Clara sat on the floor with her back against the sofa, laptop perched on her knees.
Walt, her best friend, was sprawled out on the sofa with his digital camera, snapping random shots from the old, cheesy graduation and school pictures on the wall to the tiny holes in Clara’s socks.
“Let’s spy on people’s Myspaces,” Clara said.
“Why, you creep?” Walt asked, making a face.
Clara sucked her teeth. “Oh please. Don’t act like you never look at all the pics of random people you barely know.”
“Why can’t we just call our other friends?””
“Cause everyone’s pretty much gone for summer. We’re like the only ones who stayed home.”
Clara went on and began to click open a page. “C’mon we’ll make fun of all the losers and their pics labeled cutie, sexxi, and i know the boys want it.”