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"I got Busty Girls, Tattoo Tramps, and Dark Chocolate. Which one d'you want?"
Beecher sneers at the selection spread on Keller's bunk. "You were supposed to pick up my book today."
It's much too late now. He'll spend five hours reading the back of the toothpaste tube.
Keller shrugs. "Said I'm sorry. It was either the library or-"
"A rerun of Miss Sally, yeah, you told me already," Beecher interrupts. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and leans against the bedframe.
Keller's fingers twitch against a glossy, airbrushed breast.
Beecher grunts, defeated. "Fine, which one is the least sticky?"