The waiting room of the orthodontist’s office was filled with people, all with crooked teeth, and Celeste was one of them. Now, at age eleven, her parents insisted on braces. But, she was rebelling. Why would she want to straighten the things that most appealed to her—crooked teeth? And it was not only human crookedness that was fascinating to her, but in the animal kingdom as well. Whether it was an overbite, an underbite, one tooth out of line, or all of them—it fascinated her. In her own mouth, her ‘eye tooth’ protruding and short, gave her character when she smiled. And her bottom row of teeth wavered up and down. Charming features. Why would anybody want to alter them?

“Mom, are you sure this is necessary?” Celeste always asked as the minutes ticked away in the waiting room. Dr. Hardley would want to tighten the purple-colored wires on both the top and bottom today, she knew it. Last time he had an emergency and had to leave the office, so only the top row was adjusted. Today, it was sure to be both top and bottom.

“You’re getting your teeth straightened, Celeste. There are no two ways about it,” Mom chortled.

“You don’t get it do you, ma?” I like my crooked teeth.”

Celeste wasn’t kidding. Her dreams included visions of future boyfriends with crooked teeth and quirky smiles. Maybe with a slight lisp, too. These defects could help establish the beginnings of a solid friendship—malalignment would mean the world to her. She thought about Charlie from up the street with his missing tooth—never grew in to the left upper space meant for an incisor. Some genetic defect, perhaps. This intrigued her. The more he smiled, the better she liked him.

“Mom, you know Charlie has a tooth missing?”

“I’ve never noticed it,” her mother replied.

“His mom has the same thing, too. Do you think it’s genetic?” Celeste asked.

Her mother was distracted with waiting room eavesdropping and wasn’t paying close attention.

“Celeste, your turn,” Dr. Hardley’s nurse called out.

Maybe if I ignore her, she’ll go away, Celeste thought. But, she persisted.

“Your turn, dear.”

Sitting now in the dental chair, Celeste’s thoughts turned to her absolute most favorite arrangement of crooked teeth—on a puppy in her neighborhood. The tiniest fragments of puppy teeth, mismatched top and bottom, and nipping at her arm, would leave small, irregular teeth marks on her skin. She liked to run her fingers along the ridges of the dog’s mouth to feel these irregularities of form.

“Are you brushing and flossing?” Dr. Hardley asked.

“Yup.” Celeste answered, lying through her teeth.

“There are a few more sessions to go here until you’re ready for the braces to come off and the retainer to go on.”

“Can’t wait for that,” she replied.

The retainer idea was a good one because she could plan to hardly wear it (mostly not at school) and then her teeth and mouth would resume the flavor of what they used to be—were meant to be.

“You’ll have to wear a special night guard, too, you know.”

Night guard best left on the night stand, she thought.

While Dr. Hardley was pulling the purple wires taut, Celeste closed her eyes to create a somewhat uncomfortable mental picture of all the straight teeth he had produced. She never really shared with him her true feelings about her zest for malalignment and of the intense dislike she had for purely straight teeth. Secretly, she wanted to disclose the stories of the humans and animals she’d developed a fondness for if their teeth did odd things, like produce ridged rows that flashed ragged—top and bottom. Real teeth. But she knew Dr. Hardley must be proud of his straightening accomplishments, so she spared him the true confessions of an eleven year-old girl in the dental chair.