Middle School Nicknames

Oh thank the Lord above! It was finally over. Getting those colorful and very annoying little squares off my choppers means a new age for me! No more of the dumb nicknames. No more Railroad Tracks, Steel Smile, or Metal Mouth. Those idiots in me class can’t call me that anymore. Three years of being slave to the orthodontists’ antics. Three years of middle school finally behind me. Three years that became the most awkward era of my life are in the past. People say that going through puberty sucks, but I had it worse than most. I had a hell of an experience. About the time I had my first period, I had something called The Expander put in my mouth. What it did was have me screaming in pain as that bridge of death tried to stretch the roof of …show more content…
Since service was bad at the school, I many times had phones shoved into my personal space bubble. They thought my teeth could get signal like a tower if I smiled. I stopped smiling and never showed my toothy grin. When that stopped bothering me, the boys tried their hand at messing with my metal. They tried to get me outside so I could smile during a thunderstorm. I was also the Lightning Rod. They didn’t try because they were scared I would become a walking circuit with my new bra’s wire and my brace’s wire completing the two ends. I never thought they were very …show more content…
With one week until I am a freshman in high school, my braceface phase was behind me. I felt pop after pop as the dental assistant got those annoying cubes off my teeth. A buzzing from the automatic sander came afterward, accompanied with a smell that usually comes from using one of those battery-powered nail buffers, and then the gluing-on of a permanent retainer. (It’s just a wire like what went across my braces glued to the back of my bottom teeth.) Then, it’s time. After doing a final check to make sure my teeth didn’t decay around my braces, the younger and better looking of the men of the family practice hands me a mirror. My mom had taken pictures of my smile before the removal, and she’s standing there, ready to get the reaction of my first straight smile. It feels weird to me. It’s almost too smooth as I glide my tongue across. Brackets aren’t cutting it anymore. Then, I smile, and I can’t help but giggle a bit. I am a high schooler now, a high schooler with a stunner of a