“Orange? The epitome of sarcasm? Come on!”

“I thought Garfield was an American president.” Innocently honest.

“You need to read more.”

“I read all the time.” This in protest.

“You know what I mean.”

“Not really.” Alby mutters, slapping the timer to initiate another round and clicking the reader. I watch in amazement as he clicks again, then yet again, rapidly cycling through words.

“What the heck are you doing?” The pace of the timer increases as it beeps.

“I don’t know any of these!”

I grabbed the reader from him and glared at the tiny screen.

“You don’t know what – "

Innuendo

“…means.”

The timer is panicking now.

“Just – Would you turn that off please?” I practically shout, pointing.

He slaps the pink button again and the room is quiet, all sound is absorbed by overstuffed furniture, thick carpet, and curtained windows.

“Val, maybe we could play without the timer,” he offers hopefully.

I level my gaze into his inexperienced eyes. “You don’t operate well under pressure, do you?”