“It’s his high school graduation picture,” she said, looking up at me.
It was a picture of a kinda geeky guy with bad glasses. It looked like maybe his mom or his dad had cut his hair. Not good! Typical yearbook picture.
“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Anne said and the smile on her face told me exactly how much she was into this guy.
I just nodded.
We were looking at another picture. A guy bare-chested. Looking tan and fit and really pretty damn sexy. I could barely tell it was the same guy. But it was. I knew it was.
“That’s from a couple of weeks ago when he was playing touch football with some friends back home,” she said.
“He looks . . .” I searched for the right word. I wanted to say sexy, but that didn’t seem quite right under the circumstances. I finally managed to say, “. . . older.”