They shoot the skinny girl first. She dips her head back, letting her golden hair ripple down her shoulders. A hand reaches above her head, delicate fingers pointing to the sun. Click. She brings her other hand to her collarbone, brushing the netting of the latest bikini from Victoria’s Secret. Click. Hold it. The light might be better now. She closed her eyes, feeling the waves wash gently over her feet. She wonders what the photographer would say if she turned and jumped in. What would he do if she went under, letting the salt dry out her hair and the foundation roll of her cheeks in milky drops. Click. The hand drops to her face, letting a teasing finger linger at the corner of her mouth. Click. Click. Click.

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