Gemotions

"Oh, it's *fantastic*," Bethany said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Sarah's hosting a gala. The *same* day as my bowling night." She threw the invitation down on the table, the glossy paper sliding across the surface. Her eyebrows were knitted in a permanent frown.

She’d spent weeks painstakingly organizing the bowling, the competitions, the playlist. Now, all her effort felt diminished, overshadowed. She could picture it now: Sarah, draped in sequins, surrounded by well-heeled guests. Bethany clenched her fists.

A headache began to throb behind her eyes. "Well, I guess I'm canceling it," she said flatly, her voice devoid of any enthusiasm.