Gemotions

He had told me, casually, over greasy pizza, the news delivered with a shrug. "California, actually. My dad got a promotion." My fork slipped from my numb fingers, clattering onto the paper plate. A jolt shot through me, a sudden, electric shock. I felt a pressure building in my chest, making it difficult to breathe. The restaurant noises suddenly amplified, a cacophony of chatter and clanging dishes.

My vision seemed to blur, the bright lights of the pizza parlor now a hazy shimmer. My palms began to sweat, and I found myself fumbling with my napkin, wiping them again and again. A cold sweat was starting to coat my skin. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. *California*. The word echoed in my mind, a desolate expanse separating us.

"That's... great," I managed to stammer, my voice sounding thin and reedy. The pizza suddenly tasted like ash in my mouth. I wanted to scream, to lash out, to stop him from saying anything more. I desperately wanted to run.