Gemotions

The invitation felt like a slap. Amelia had the audacity to schedule her elaborate garden party – the one with the string quartet and the imported champagne – on the same afternoon as Maya's humble bowling alley bash. Maya gripped the paper so tightly her knuckles were white.

A flicker of heat flushed her cheeks. “Well, that’s just… perfect,” Maya muttered, the saccharine tone doing nothing to quell the simmering feeling inside. She crumbled the invitation.

Maya called the bowling alley. “Make sure the music is extra loud,” she instructed, the smile tight on her face. “And maybe… maybe we can get some extra balloons. Really, really festive.” She pictured the look on Amelia’s face, the slight surprise, the way her perfect smile might falter.

The afternoon arrived, and Maya was a whirlwind. She flitted around the bowling alley, ensuring every detail was perfect. As Amelia's guests, in their expensive outfits, struggled to hear themselves speak at the garden party, they wouldn't hear Maya’s name; they wouldn't even think about her.