Gemotions

The chipped mug in Liam’s hand rattled against his teeth. He hadn't been able to drink the coffee; it sat cold and forgotten on the kitchen counter, but the feeling of something solid to grip steadied him. He traced the faded floral pattern on the mug again and again, his thumb rubbing furiously. Across the small kitchen table, Sarah was telling him about the apartment she’d found. Sunny, she kept saying, with a view of the mountains. He swallowed hard, the muscles in his throat suddenly tight.

“That’s…that’s great, Sarah,” he finally managed, his voice sounding thin. He felt a wave of heat rush to his face. He quickly looked away, focusing on the intricate dance of dust motes in the sunlight streaming through the window. He wanted to ask how they'd get to the movies, or who he was supposed to go to the park with, but the words were stuck.

He stared at his hands, watching them tremble slightly.