“How did you know it was me?” I said in my normal voice. Shane pounded his chest with his fist and dislodged a greasy burp. “Oh, please,” he said. “Who else has ankles that skinny?” “You recognized me by my ankles?” “Yeah.” He shrugged. “Well, that and the Hogg’s Doggs thing. I just put two and two together.” I wanted to say, “You can put two and two together?” but a guy dressed like a hotdog really shouldn’t tease anyone about anything. “So why didn’t you mention it?” I said. “In front of that Brooke girl?” Shane squinted one eye and shook his head. “I didn’t want to embarrass you. I have a heart, you know.” That would have been touching, if he hadn’t chosen that exact moment to yank a wiry red hair out of Frank Lee’s head and use it to pick something from between his back teeth. “Ah, gee, thanks, Shane,” I said. “So…I, ah, don’t suppose you know where she is now, do you?” He shoved another Burrito-Bit in his mouth. “Nah.
