Smart girl, he said.

Very smart, Stanley repeated. Then they both smiled their slithery smiles, and I saw Stanley’s pink tongue. Lizardlike, he licked his bottom lip.

Sara, sit down, have a coffee.

They didn’t ask me why I wasn’t in school.

You wanna get your life together, then this here’s your man. He’s a very important man. Braun finds girls, Stanley said.

Where? I said, in a voice stupid and curious and shy.

Well, I find them in shopping malls and soccer fields, Braun said. He winked at Stanley. It’s a tough job.

I thought it sounded like a weird job. Driving around, finding underage girls. It sounded like it should be illegal.

Anyway, I didn’t care about modeling. Just because I was young and dull, they thought I had what it took to be a glossy good girl in magazines. Maybe I hoped so yesterday—but yesterday was a year ago. Now I just wanted to fuck things up. That was all I wanted, really.

She’s a snob, Braun said. That’s why she won’t sit down.

A beautiful snob, Stanley said, but a snob nonetheless.

They both snorted, and Braun threw me this glance that meant We’re on to you.

I’m not a snob.

You’re just creeps, that’s what I wanted to say.

Oh, you’re not a snob, eh? Then why don’t you sit down? For two seconds. Come on.

Come on, Stanley said. We’re not going to bite.

If I didn’t move soon, I would die. The heat in my body was waning, but I still felt dizzy and clammy, the way you feel waking up with a hangover or after falling asleep in the sun. How could they not tell? Fever’s invisible. Too bad I wasn’t born with leprosy.

Persuasion is a strange thing. Coercing, convincing, call it what you want. They say you should, really should, come across the street to a calm, classy, well-lit white studio. It’s there that Stanley, professional photographer extraordinaire, will take a few Test Shots. That’s all. And here’s how they try to convince you. They make you think that if you don’t go, you’re to blame for being a snob. You think you’re too good for us? Come on! Why wouldn’t you want to be photographed by Stanley here? His work’s appeared in Chatelaine and Flare. He’s top-notch. Come on! Bring your mother if you want. We’ll send your photos to Elite. You could be in New York next week.

What do I have to do?

Smile. All you have to do is smile.

It sounds so simple. To them.

But I can’t smile. Ask me why and I’ll tell you. A girl I know just got a garden hose stuck up her, and the boys who did it were my friends, my only friends.