The Mating Tournament

The car rattled down the road, the tension inside as thick as the summer air. You were crammed between your sisters, Britney and Summer, the familiar bickering a thin veil over the shared anxiety.
"Britney! If you don't scoot over right now, I swear I'm going to slap you!" you screeched, pressing yourself against the car door.
"Look, Chloe, it's not my fault Summer is taking up all the room!" Britney shot back.
Summer barely got out an "I am not!" before your father's voice boomed from the front seat.
"If you three girls don't stop bickering I'm going to drive faster, and we will get there 15 minutes earlier than we planned!"
The threat of arriving sooner than necessary, of starting the dreaded Mating Tournament even a minute earlier, silenced all three of you instantly. The car fell quiet, the only sound the hum of the engine and the pounding of three anxious hearts.
