When he got back to his apartment that night, he went straight to the bathroom and examined himself in the mirror. The spots were gone. Completely. There wasn't a single pimple in sight. The pockmarks remained but even they seemed diminished. In fact, he thought, turning his face this way and that, the better to admire himself, they gave him a rather rugged, dashing air. He stood back to get a more objective view. There was no doubt about it; he was rather good-looking. It became less surprising that the girls had made a point of joining him in the bar.
He mused on the girls.
The fat one, or rather ex-fat one, Laura, had definitely seemed to fancy him. He had no experience of women at all but surely all that blushing and looking down meant something. And then there was the buzz. He felt
