Gemotions

Liam stared at the oversized mitt, a foreign object in his hands. He was a speedy outfielder, a natural at stealing bases and tracking down fly balls. Now, the coach wanted him to try first base. The lump in his throat threatened to choke him as he imagined the pressure of receiving throws, the close plays, the responsibility of holding runners.

He practiced catching ground balls, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. The other infielders called out instructions, but the words seemed to fade into a muffled roar in his ears. He felt a hot flush creep up his neck.

During the team dinner, he picked at his food, barely touching the pasta. His teammates chatted and laughed, but Liam could only manage a weak smile. He felt a profound sense of isolation, a sudden distance between him and his friends.