Gemotions

A wave of heat crashed over Liam as he stood on the pitcher's mound. The midday sun beat down, and the crowd blurred into a hazy hum. His coach had called him over earlier, telling him to learn to play center field. "We need more speed out there," he had said, clapping Liam on the back.

Liam dragged his feet, his pitching arm feeling like a dead weight. The thought of running laps to get into shape for an entirely different position made his stomach churn. The curve ball felt alien in his hand, and he found himself staring, feeling strangely detached, at the baseball in his hand.

He kicked at the dirt, wishing he could just sit down and be silent. The game felt like a marathon, and the prospect of playing in a new position was more than he felt he could handle.