Gemotions

The invitation sat on Amelia's fridge, a gleaming beacon of potential disaster. Leo's party. Laser tag, arcade games, the works. It was the same day as hers. A casual brunch, just friends, she’d thought. Now, the thought of it made her stomach churn.

She ran a hand through her hair, the strands catching on her lip ring. Maybe she should call it off. The thought flickered and died. She’d already sent out the invites, reserved the small, sun-drenched cafe. Canceling felt like admitting defeat.

Later, as she carefully arranged the pastel macarons she'd baked, each one a perfect, sugary circle, a tremor went through her hands. The frosting smeared slightly on one. She swore under her breath, a sharp sound in the otherwise quiet kitchen.