Gemotions

He had the audacity to offer her a handshake. A goddamn handshake! Her hands, usually so steady, were trembling. The air around her prickled. Mark’s eyes, normally twinkling with mischief, were now flat and unreadable. He looked at her with polite confusion, like she was a telemarketer.

"You're… uh… Jessica, right?" he’d ventured, eyebrows furrowed in a way that screamed he didn't care. Jessica. Not Jess, not her nickname, not anything that marked a connection to the girl who used to swing from that very tree in his backyard.

She let the handshake fall to the wayside, letting her hands fall to her sides. She felt like spitting. “We built a fort together, Mark! Remember? The one with the secret code and the… the whole damn world was ours!” His expression didn’t change. The sheer, colossal disconnect was a physical blow, a punch to the gut. The world swirled for a moment. She wanted to scream.