He perused the pages reverently, like a priest reading the bible, or a sixteen year old studying a driver’s manual on the day of the test.
Blanketing each page, the bony CMYK limbs of lithe girls spread before him, mostly arms akimbo, mostly smiling at someone off the page, mostly brunette, mostly flat-chested, mostly wearing jeans and v-neck sweaters.
Charlie kept a careful mental count, noting which girl he would take to the movies, which one he would see in another carol at the library and pass a secret note of affection, and which one he might sleep next to – clothes on – in her parent’s bed, while they were away for the weekend.