The Imitation Game ✓

FIVE | LEVERAGE

Cora wasn't always so anxious. On the contrary, she was usually a little bit excellent at putting herself out there in social settings.

Such an instance was the night she met Siena. That night had come a couple of years ago, at a time when Cora was just coming out of a long spell of not seeing any boys. It wasn't intentional at first—she was just so busy with auditions that she didn't have the time and energy for much else. Then, once she'd realized that she was doing just fine without a man to ruin her day, she'd decided that she didn't want to make the time and energy for anyone else. She was in a committed relationship with herself.

That worked well for a little while and then it didn't work so well. All the thoughts of me, me, me began to feel more draining than empowering, especially when she wasn't getting any callbacks. So she decided that maybe it was time to find some company.

That night, she was meeting up with a guy she matched with on Bumble, which she regretted thoroughly in hindsight. But the carelessness of it felt liberating at the time. She put on her shortest dress, painted her lips wine red. She could be whoever she wanted for one night—he didn't know her in the slightest.

They went to a club. He couldn't dance to save his life.

That alone certainly wasn't a dealbreaker for her. She swore her dear Simon had two left legs. But this boy's personality was worse than his dancing, which she probably should have predicted. His name was Chase, for Christ's sake. And he just wanted to watch her be hot. Cora wanted to be hot, but not at the cost of having no conversation, no connection whatsoever with her date. She wasn't just a sparkly, shiny object to be looked at.

So after a while, she ditched him. And she made it obvious that she was ditching him because he deserved to know that he was being an ass.

Her feet carried her across the street to the closest bar. She wasn't ready to completely give up on tonight just yet, even if she might have to fend off some creepy men in the process of enjoying her drink. But this was a spot that lots of people her age frequented, many of them women, so she felt at ease as she settled onto a barstool and ordered an Old Fashioned.

"Is this seat taken?" a voice asked from off to her side just as the bartender was bringing her drink.

Cora's gaze shot to the girl who had just arrived. Even at a short glance, she was striking. She was long dark hair and grayish-blue eyes. She was sharp angles, arched eyebrows and the elegant lines of collarbones above the low v of a dress. She was magnetic, electrifying, a thunderstorm.

And Cora was intrigued. "Not at all."

The girl slipped into the spare seat and requested a glass of red wine. When the bartender walked away, she then turned to Cora with a look of repressed exaggeration on her face, and for a brief moment, she thought that this girl was somehow angry with her. But then she started talking.

"Do you ever just–" she started, gesturing vaguely with her hands, but then stopped herself when the right words weren't coming. She tried again. "You know when men–"

Cora couldn't help it—she laughed. "Yeah."

The girl cracked a smile. "You come here with anyone?" she asked.

Cora took a sip of her cocktail and shook her head. "I was at that club across the street with someone, but he turned out to be kind of the worst. I left."

It was the other girl's turn to laugh. "Seriously? I just left a guy, too. I was explaining that I'm trying to get a doctorate in Literature someday and he said that it was a useless degree—that I should really try my hand at medicine if I'm gonna bother going through that much school."