Gemotions

My hands were clammy as I paced in the cramped office. The clock on the wall seemed to tick louder, each second a hammer blow against my skull. Coach Ramirez was running late. I gripped the worn leather of my coaching binder. I kept re-checking the roster, circling the name I dreaded.

The knock on the door made me jump. I forced a smile as Coach Ramirez entered. He looked weary, lines etched deep around his eyes.

"So, the cuts," he said, his voice flat. He pointed towards the chair. I sat, my stomach churning.

“I know what this is about, Coach,” I said, trying to sound confident, but my voice wavered. My own mind was racing. Each word of the sentence would be a blow.

“It's a tough decision, but…” He trailed off. He opened the file, and I knew. My name. The same name I had circled. My insides dropped.