shushed Bryce. He grabbed the remote control for the television and hit the
power button and the down volume button in quick succession. Then he
turned to channel three, fed the tape into the VCR, and hit fast forward.
What seemed like an eternity later, Henry pressed play amid stifled
commotion from Bryce and Justin alerting him that they had reached the
scene. The two of them were lying on their stomachs in sleeping bags facing
the television with their chins stilted on top their palms. “Shh,” Henry said
over his shoulder. He knelt next to the VCR and paused the tape to look up at
the screen.
“Fuckin’ A,” Justin whispered.
“They’re okay,” Bryce said. He rolled over to look at them upside down.
“They’re better than okay,” Justin said in protest.
“Jenny McCarthy’s were bigger.”
“So what?” Justin said, a little too loudly.
“Quiet, guys,” Henry said. “My dad will hear.”
Justin said, “You’re just jealous because I had the idea and you didn’t.”
“Nuh-uh,” Bryce said. “I don’t even care about that. I just like Jenny
McCarthy’s boobs better.”
Henry shushed them again, but Justin and Bryce paid no attention.
“What makes you the expert?” Justin asked.
“Because I’ve cybered, like, a million more girls than you,” Bryce shouted.
Henry exploded in a hiss. “Shut up, both of you. You’re going to get us in
trouble when Dad wakes up.” Bryce and Justin turned to look at Henry as he
kept talking. “You didn’t even have JM as long as I did, Bryce. You think