Gemotions

The invitation, a garish flyer advertising a “potluck and board game night,” landed on my desk with a thud. I stared at it, my mouth twisting in distaste. It was exactly what I expected from Olivia. Predictable.

I imagined the rubbery casseroles, the forced laughter, and the endless rounds of Monopoly. I felt a wave of nausea rise in my throat. My own party was going to be a high-stakes poker tournament with a live band.

I could already imagine Olivia’s surprise, her slightly bewildered expression when she discovered what I was up to. It would be a delicious moment. The realization that she'd been utterly outdone.