Who Ordered A Hot Dog? 6. WHO ORDERED A HOT DOG? I wake up at the crack of ten fifteen a.m. the next day. I could barely get to sleep, but once I did, I went ahead and got nine and a half hours. Nevertheless, I’m rested, and I know what needs to be done. I’ve got to ride up to school and work out with my boys, and then immediately apologize to Abby. I throw on some shorts and a T-shirt, slam a protein shake, and tell my dad that I’ll be back in about an hour to help him with the stupid deck. He took the day off of his real job to work on this junk, so he’s fired up and tries to show me his drawings and explain why he’s strung this yellow string all over the backyard, but I tell him I’ve got to get moving. It’s a perfect summer day. I’ve regained some of the feeling in my face, and I’ve got all of my lines memorized for the big audition—three days early! As soon as I knock out this apology, and Abby and I get back on track, this summer is going to be kicking ass! Rolling into the parking lot, I see my boys’ bikes locked up to various trees and signposts.
