Gemotions

The locker room felt cavernous, the silence amplified by the lingering smell of sweat and liniment. Coach Miller’s words echoed in Maya’s ears – “We need to make some tough choices.” Her stomach clenched. She picked at the loose threads on her jersey, her fingers tracing the worn fabric. A bead of perspiration trickled down her temple, and she swiped it away with a trembling hand. The other girls were already starting to drift away, their faces a mixture of awkwardness and pity.

Maya avoided eye contact, fiddling with the laces of her sneakers. They seemed impossibly tight, strangling her feet. She hadn't played poorly, had she? She’d thought she’d given it her all. A knot formed in her throat, making it difficult to swallow. Outside, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the court. She knew what was coming.