John was trying not to be seen as he stared out the window at his next-door neighbors. He‟d push the drapes to one side, take a quick peek, and then let the drapes fall back into place, before doing it again. A voice from the couch asked, “Who are you spying on?” “I‟m not spying on anyone,” Cooper said as he walked over to the couch and plopped down next to his best friend, Ethan Moore. “Uh-huh,” Ethan answered, not lifting his eyes from the issue of Sports Illustrated in his hands. Damian Marsala, who was sprawled across a brown leather armchair, playing a handheld video game, murmured, “Were you checking out girls? Maybe some hot girls?” “Maybe I was,” Cooper said. Damian instantly pulled his eyes away from his video game. “How many were there?” “Five.” Damian pumped a fist in the air. “Score! One for each of us! What did they look like? Details. I want details!” “Have you decided which one you want?” Ethan asked, eyes still glued to his magazine.
