Gemotions

Sarah paced the length of her bedroom, the worn carpet a familiar comfort beneath her feet. Her mother's words from earlier hung in the air: “Coach Peterson wants to see you tomorrow.” She had a knot of unease tightening in her stomach, a physical manifestation of her apprehension.

She kept checking her phone, expecting a call, a text, anything that would give her a hint of what was coming. The silence was the worst part. She ran a hand through her hair, pulling at the strands. She hated the feeling of not being in control.

She'd poured her heart into this season, sacrificing parties and sleep for grueling practices. She’d given it everything. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, seeing a pale, tight-lipped version of herself staring back.