Gemotions

The invitation sat on Amelia's fridge, a gleaming beacon of sugary fonts and cartoon characters. Liam’s party. The little blighter was turning seven, and naturally, Amelia’s own bash was scheduled for the very same Saturday. A small, simmering anger bubbled in her stomach as she stared at the card. "He knew," she muttered, her jaw tight. "He *knew* what day it was." She crumpled the invitation and tossed it into the recycling bin with unnecessary force.

Later, Amelia, arms crossed, refused the suggestion of a bouncy castle, despite it being her stated dream. Her mother sighed. "But honey, all the other kids will love it!" "Fine," Amelia said, her voice clipped, "then they can go to Liam's party."

The cake, a masterpiece of buttercream roses and edible glitter, sat untouched on the kitchen counter. Amelia poked at a rose with a fork, then dropped the utensil with a clatter. "This is *my* party," she thought, her teeth clenched. "I should be the only one enjoying my day." The thought spurred her to eat it all up, the sticky sweetness a comfort against the internal storm.