Gemotions

Sarah adjusted her visor, the plastic feeling strangely cool against her forehead. The hot summer sun beat down on the court, but she barely noticed. Her heart was thrumming in her ears, a steady, rhythmic pulse that echoed the pounding of her sneakers. She’d outplayed them all, every single drill, every single match-up. The coach had to see it. He just had to.

She saw the coach beckon her over after the final game of the tryouts. He was holding the clipboard. Her stomach twisted, but it wasn't fear; it was pure anticipation. She could taste the sweetness of victory.

"Come on in, Sarah," the coach said, his voice unusually gentle. "Have a seat." The chair creaked under her weight as she sat down. She kept her gaze fixed on the floor, suddenly shy, the energy that had fueled her performance now concentrated into a single, intense point. The wait felt like an eternity.