She looked up, her face pink as a Christmas ham. “You ever try chasing down a car?” she gasped. “I’ll one-up you. I gave Scott my hot dog and asked if he’d go to Summer Solstice with me.” “What does the hot dog have to do with anything?” “I said he’d be a wiener if he didn’t go with me.” Vee wheezed laughter. “I’d have run harder had I known I’d get to see you call him a wiener.
Becca FitzpatrickListen, Patch, I don’t want to be rude, but—” “Sure you do.” “Well, you started it!” Lovely. Very mature.
Becca FitzpatrickGosh, it was nice talking to you, but I’ve got a lot of things I’d rather be doing. Like sticking my hand in the garbage disposal.
Becca Fitzpatrick