She was dyed, permed, and backlit. Two of her fingers were curled and poking into the inside of my cheek. She tipped her head in front of the light, changed her angle. “When’s the last time you flossed?” Careful not to bite her, I told her I always brushed twice a day. “Do you ever floss?” she asked. I shook my head and licked some chalky mint off the backs of my bottom teeth. She tightened her fingerhook. “How many cavities?” None, I said. “That’s gonna change, you know. You’re nineteen. You’ve never had any reason to be afraid of coming here. But good teeth don’t last forever. Start flossing.”
Jake de Grazia is Trop's Musical Theater Correspondent.