Rachel got her braces off today, and now she can't stop smiling in that just-got-my-braces-off way. White enamel takes center stage after nine years in a metal cage. I approach her to say that she looks great. She declines to reciprocate like she always would before. She just checks herself out in the mirror on her locker door. Me and Rachel used to be like twins. We'd cut our hair the same way. We had the same smiles highlighted with tin. We'd lie awake and wish the same wish for orthodontic deliverance. Now such a change has taken place beyond the ratio of silver present on our face. And I wonder what I should say. I can't help feeling like I'm just in the way. Introducing the new Rachel Jones to all of you in all her glory as a fledgling narcissist. Introducing the new Rachel Jones to all of you, and a farewell to the Rachel that no longer exists. Rachel got her braces off last week, and now she's more selective about with whom she chooses to speak. And I hate that I feel jealousy over tooth straightness equality, but we were best friends up until that date, and it seems the two events relate. She's chewing bubblegum tonight while aluminum strains to correct my overbite. chorus.