Gemotions

The champagne flute trembled slightly in Amelia’s hand, though not because of any nerves. Across the crowded bar, she caught the eye of the woman she’d been texting all week. A little smile played on her lips. She raised her glass, a silent toast to her own cleverness. He'd been so sure they were a couple. Ha!

Her phone buzzed. A message. "So glad I'm the one," it read. Amelia almost laughed aloud. She’d outmaneuvered him, not just with her own date but by getting a date for the new date to see too. All the texts, the carefully crafted stories, the shared inside jokes, had been worth it. The feeling in her chest was like a balloon, steadily inflating.

Later, as they left the bar, arms linked with both of her dates, she let out a small, satisfied sigh. The night air was cool against her flushed cheeks. One of them squeezed her hand and she squeezed back, content with the knowledge of her superior strategy. Tonight, she held the winning hand.