The Wedding Game

by Meghan Quinn

“I would like it to be known, after we won our first challenge, right out of the gate, I still spoke with you. It wasn’t beneath me to have a conversation with you.” Conversation or argument? “Fine, you don’t want to talk? That’s your choice. But just so you know, I actually was going to pay you a compliment.” “Ha!” I exclaim before I can stop myself. “That’s why you started off by insinuating I was paying the judges.” After the words have fallen past my lips, I remember what Farrah told me to do. “I mean . . . woof.” “Woof?” Alec’s brow furrows. I clutch the folder to my chest and face him now. Trying to look as snarly as possible, I go at him. “Woof, woof, woof.” I use my best baritone impression of a Saint Bernard. “Bark, ra-ra-ra-ra-roof. Bark. Woof.” “Uhhhh . . .” He scratches the top of his head. “Woof.” I take a step forward. “Woof.” One more step. “Woof.” He stumbles backward. “Are you barking at me out of choice, or are you experiencing some kind of psychosis and need me to call someone?” “Bark. Woof. Woof.” “Psychosis for sure.” I move past him and am starting to walk away when he calls out, “Hey, as long as you don’t lift a leg and pee on me, you can keep barking all you want.”