AAAAAAAAYYYYYYY BOYS!
It's been a hot minute since I've had the inspiration for one of these! Let's have some fun!
Chapter 1
Two years. Two whole years of boring college courses and all I had to show for it were a few pictures in local newspapers and a damaged mouth. I'll be the first to admit that it was kind of my fault. That hulking refrigerator of a football player wouldn’t have slammed into me if I hadn't signed up for cheer-leading that starting semester, I wouldn't have hit my mouth on the metal framing the drum major was standing on if I hadn't been out of formation, and I wouldn't have to travel so far to meet my parents in a completely new city if I hadn't suggested they move after I went away in the first place!
I'm perfectly willing to take complete responsibility for my current condition, and I am VERY grateful for my parents' near instant willingness to completely cover my recovery costs, but I have to draw the line at what Mom was "just suggesting". I DRAW THE LINE AT BRACES.
Even the word makes my teeth shiver in the worst way possible. I remember seeing some poor girl and her friend get their faces shrouded in aluminium a few years back, and they NEVER stopped lisping. All the drilling, and scratching, and metal, NOPE. NOT FOR ME. And that metal bar they had locked into their mouths? How was that even ethical? GOD just thinking about it makes it worse. I don't care how bad my mouth happened to heal, I don't care that I "kind of needed them years ago", I DRAW THE LINE AT BRACES.
Pulling into the city was an event of its own. I had left campus early in the afternoon with everything packed. Since the University sent all of my work over the internet, there was no reason to stick around since I couldn't cheer with my face the way it was. Hopefully this is gonna be fast.
It was already dark by the time I was halfway there, and google maps wasn't giving me consistent directions. After finding the right exit, I could see fewer and fewer stars as the clusters of city lights grew in the distance. After crossing a really long bridge, I was at least in the city. Finding my parents place would be another challenge. Sections of the city were underground, and some portions were on top of these man-made hills, where it's own university stood. After driving around a bunch of obviously faux French architecture, I found the street Mom sent in the text. After giving the man at the gate the passcode, I was allowed to meander through dozens of hilly roads surrounded by all kinds of well kept plant life. Don't get me wrong, it was nice, but I was imagining what a pain it must be to navigate this for a day job. Just getting around this place felt like some buggy arcade racing game.
Finally, the place Mom described came into view. The massive, white concrete walls, the incredible lawn dotted with sprinklers, with sidewalks surrounded by flowers snaking it's way through to the front driveway, it was all exactly how she said it would look. I pull up close enough to see the name on the house. "Celeste". Yup, this is it.
I have to guess they heard me pull up, since write as I shut the car door, the front door swings open, and with it Mom runs out in casual jeans and a T-shirt, sporting a sweater, I'm guessing since she was waiting to come out and hug me. After a few minutes of hugging, her asking how my mouth was doing, and how my trip up was, Dad saves me by reminding Mom that I should probably come inside. As she leads me by the hand to give me a tour of the property, Dad kisses my forehead and starts getting my luggage from the car.
The house was a lot to take in. It was definitely bigger than what we were living in before I left. Dad always liked for us to live modestly growing up, but with their last kid out of the house, I'm guessing he wanted to make sure Mom was comfortable as they grew old together. Thoughtful as ever. I could see his touches of gardening in the front of the house, as well as in the hanging gardens behind the pool in the back. They liked to have close friends over for book clubs and grills, and the spare rooms weren’t usually empty, since most of my siblings would visit with them while travelling and bring their kids to get spoiled by Grandma and Grandpa. They were happy, and it made me feel way better to know that they were happy. I remember how much it hurt Mom to see her last baby leave for college, and Dad telling me they'd be fine, and that no matter what I wanted to do, they'd support me.
After the tour, Dad pulled out leftovers from the dinner they made the night before. It was some kind of loaded potato casserole with all kinds of different things like bacon and cheese, so of course Mom expressed her concern about my ability to eat with my mouth having only just recovered.
"I know you said it wasn't bad, but the physician at your college said some parts of your mouth hadn't heal properly. Can I just take a look?"
Crap, the physician ratted me out. I could tell my teeth weren't the same just by how everything felt, but I was willing to live with it! If it meant I could avoid.. you know what.. I was fine with a few crooked teeth, and the pain wasn't near as bad.
"I'm fine. I'm taking the painkillers just like he said, and they're feeling a whole lot better."
Dad looked at Mom expectantly, like he was waiting for the need to intercede. Mom met his glance and waited for me to start eating. Then it hit me. Crap, they wanna see me eat. Even though most of it was healed, I didn't wanna tell them that just chewing, opening and closing hurt. The painkillers weren't doing much anymore either.
I reluctantly held up the spoon. It was mostly soft potatoes, with only small bits of the crunchy stuff like bacon. If I could maneuver around the bacon and just swallow it whole, maybe. OW CRAP ow. I GUESS NOT. This was the first time in weeks I'd had something that wasn't blended up or in a smoothie. Judging by my loving parents' concerned reactions, I think I botched that pretty well. Mouth still full, I mustered, "Iwm fwyn."
Dad stood back as Mom leaned in closer to say exactly what I DIDN'T want to hear.
"Sweetie, I have this friend who's and Orthodo..."
"No."
Dad finally spoke up stern yet calm "Alecia."
Mom continued, "Baby we know how you feel about this stuff, but I feel really good about this one! I know her very well, and she's got this program made exactly for people who are afraid of... dental work, just like you! Please, just give it a chance?"
They could see it before I could; I was shaking in my chair. Dad walked over from the other side to comfort me. Still calm as ever, "It's just temporary. We're gonna be right there with you, and you can stay as long as you need. No ones forcing you to do this, but your mom and I know that this is hurting you, and we know someone who can help. Give them a chance?"
Who knows, maybe I'll get lucky and they'll present surgery to me as an option.
I nod.
Mom pulls out a contract for "Frontier Dentistry and Experimental Orthodontics". I shudder reading those words. So this is what they were willing to cover for me. I can't bring myself to read past the first paragraph and just sign the bottom without a second thought. Somehow, I'm not anymore relaxed than I was before. As Mom calls her friend, who I'm assuming runs the place, and sets up an appointment for two days from now, Dad pulls a bunch of fruit out from the fridge and makes a smoothie for me so that I don't go hungry. After that we lay on couches in the living room, watching old movies they have on VHS, and Dad is quickly out like a light in his chair. After I'm showed my room, I just can't sleep. Braces?
! At my age?
! I loathed the very idea. I was still holding out hope for another option. ANY other option.
Monday came and went way too fast for my liking. Mom and I had gone into town to buy clothes to wear to the appointment to help ease my nerves. Imagine my surprise when that did little. Okay, I guess it helped a little bit. It was nice to spend time with Mom again, and we found some cute tops and a pair of shorts with all kinds of flowers stitched in along the pants and back. I decided I'd wear them to the appointment.
Tuesday was here and I was not about it. After downing another smoothie and carefully rinsing my still sensitive mouth, Mom brings me into town near her friend's orthodontic clinic. After sitting in the car for 3 minutes composing myself, Mom leads me into what looks like a massive shopping mall. From the wide, multi-colored tile floor, you can look up to see walkways on higher levels, connected by other suspended walkways above pillars. Every inch of wall that wasn't adorned with those 90's looking multi-colored tiles was drenched in advertisements, from every kind of perfume and cologne, each with evermore ridiculous names, to more brands of clothing than I'd ever be able to keep track of. We continue straight through behind the center entrance and pass a variety of chic, modern looking shops with prices up in the ozone layer. This might make for some fun window shopping later.
After exiting one section of the building, I can see that the entire mall is one massive donut, with tons of space and smaller shops along the inside, marked by massive colorful tarps stretching downward to provide shade for and mark the entrances to the different shops. After more walking, we come to the clinic. It's got a modern, white exterior with massive floor to ceiling windows in the waiting area and treatment rooms. The whole thing feels very open.
Mom motions for me to check in with the lady working the desk. I walk up to this woman a little older than me, who greets me with a warm smile sporting, you guessed it, braces. These long metallic scopes stretching from her top teeth to her bottom ones flex and stretch as she talks.
"Checking in sweetheart? What's the name?"
Meekly I mutter "Alecia Celeste..."
She picks up on my blatant phobia, and sympathetically motions me past the waiting room doors. I glance back at Mom, who's already found herself a seat with a magazine. She smiles encouragingly, signaling she won't be going anywhere.
I'm led down a decent sized hallway to a well lit office, with a light blue carpeted floor, where I sit in front of a old looking desk and am asked to wait for Dr. Sinclair. I'm guessing Mom's friend?
A minute goes by and another door opens. A tall woman, who looks to be in her 40's, with a smile to rival that of any actor's, enters and introduces herself as Dr. Renee Sinclair. She looks composed, yet relaxed and in her element. She sits and explains that she's been made thoroughly aware of my case, and received dental scans and x-rays from my physician back at the University. She also has the run down of my phobia of orthodontics. She tells me she's confident that the program she has me down for will work wonders for me.
Crap she's building up to something. I thought we were just gonna talk about options and do x-rays, but they're already done? She already has something ready? I really should've read that contract I signed.
She sees me already starting to tense up, and reassures me that it's a very fast process that'll help alleviate the pain in my mouth, and that I'll feel completely relaxed the whole time. I decide to go with it. I'm already here.
I'm led to an open, well lit room with the same big windows looking out at the park inside of the donut mall. I'm seated in the cream colored chair in the room's center as it's slowly lowered to a panic inducing position. Dr. Sinclair dawns a mask and places a clear, hissing one over my face. This is all happening really fast.
Aaaaand now everything's moving slower. She says something to her assistant about a "compliance case", and "behavior modification". She brings this big light over my face with a picture or pattern or something on the glass. Dr. Sinclair says to look at the center dot and to keep my eyes on it. I feel super dazed but I can at least keep my eyes on the dot and don't even question her. The whole room smells like soap and berries. The light starts flashing randomly, and different times as Dr. Sinclair says stuff I can't quite make out. At some point everything goes dark after the shapes of the room start to merge together.
