Speechless
ON NIGHTS BEFORE speech team practice, I dream about rodent teeth. They sprout beneath my upper lip and there’s no stopping them. They grow until I’m left with not fangs, or anything vampire cool, but huge Bugs Bunny teeth. Sadly, not even in dreams do I have Bugs’ way with words.
Besides, I hate carrots.
Every morning, after one of those dreams, I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, never sure what’s the dream and what’s the reality. With a finger, I press my front two teeth, hard. They feel naked without the braces. Four years of tasting metal. Four years of expense that could probably fund an Ivy League education. Not that I’m Ivy League bound. Not that I’m anywhere bound.
I’m the girl who never smiles in school pictures. I’m the girl who never talks. Problem is, colle
