“Wake up!” it was Jorge’s voice, not Edward’s. “It’s way too late.” Daniel buried himself inside his sleeping bag. “Leave me alone, dude. What’s the damned hurry?”“I want you guys outta here on the double,” Jorge insisted. “In your uniforms.”Daniel stuck an unkempt head out of his sleeping bag—a red mane of frizzy curls. He scowled. “In our uniforms? Don’t screw with me, dude.” Jorge opened the tent’s flap and stuck his head inside. He glared at Daniel. “Stop being a fool, Daniel. Today is the 4 of July. Abe’s old man will drive us to the parade. Any problem with that?”Daniel stretched, yawned, and scratched his naked torso. He lifted his upper lip. “The parade, of course. I forgot. Excuse me for not being a smartass like Edward and you. That’s why you guys are our leaders.”“Don’t be a smartass yourself, Daniel, and put your uniform on. You’re cooking breakfast again.”“Me? That’s not fair. I cooked breakfast yesterday.”“I know you did, that’s why I said again.”
