“Smile!” My mom said through her teeth as she smiled back at me. “Why aren’t you smiling?” she said again. But

this time it was said with an angrier tone, once she realized I wasn’t budging. I just stood there with a huge grin on my face while making sure I didn’t smile with my teeth. Or should I say “metal teeth.”

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              Every young school kid knows that it’s almost like a rite of passage to be honoured with metal, coloured elastic bands, and wires all throughout your mouth to fix those god-awful teeth you were born with. Except the difference between me and most middle school kids is that I actually wanted braces.

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               Before getting blessed with the angels that fixed my teeth, my brother got his first. As soon as I saw the light reflect off his mouth of metal when he smiled, I knew I needed my own. Except his colour scheme sucked, I knew I could do better. In the weeks that followed, I didn’t have a single conversation with my parents without mentioning the word braces, or orthodontist. I just prayed for my picture to be up on Dr. Green’s bulletin board of success stories, and it was eventually … only five years later.

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             I got my first robotic wires hooked up to my teeth when I was in the fifth grade. It was also probably one of my more popular years at school, considering I was one of the first to get them.

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             “Come one, come all,” I would say as I stood at the front of the cafeteria with my lips folded over my teeth to not give anything away. Everyone at school was so intrigued by the assortment of colours I chose to display in my mouth each month. They even set up a poll just to guess which colours I was going to choose next. On Halloween I made sure to get a pattern of black and orange. And on Christmas red, white, and green. Little did I know that my claim to fame would soon grow old as more of my peers became metal mouths too, and managed to get theirs removed before me.

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             In grade seven we had our first boy-girl party. Jeremy, whom I always seemed to forget how to speak around, was hosting the party. The one where you steal your parents’ alcohol, take one sip, and act like you’ve drank the entire bottle. The one where you take that same bottle and everyone sits in a circle biting their nails, awaiting their chance to have their lips touch their crush’s. I sat across the circle from Jeremy. My stomach turned, I twirled my hair on my finger until it knotted, and I constantly shifted from sitting on my knees to my bum and back to knees. I was about to potentially peck THE Jeremy on his actual lips! But then I remembered all the random metal things sticking out from all corners of my mouth and I almost choked on my own spit.

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              It was his turn to spin the bottle. I didn’t take my eyes off the bottle the entire time it spun, and every time it spun past me, it felt like a frog leaped off my chest. As the bottle began to slowly approach me again, one of Jeremy’s friends kicked the bottle a little bit further and whispered, “Ew, not brace face!” Except, it wasn’t a whisper. I heard him loud and clear, and so did everyone else in the circle as a giggle echoed throughout the room. I looked at Jeremy. He looked back at me, but no words escaped his lips. I felt my eyes start to water, so I ran to the bathroom and called my mom to come pick me up. The closed mouth smile became a staple of mine after that. The once confident and unstoppable metal mouth, had now become the insecure, non-smiling freak who envied all those that got their braces off.

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              “Emma. Ems. Emmy, can you pleaaase smile for me? I’m not going to ask you again. It’s your first day of high school. We need photo evidence!” My mom said it a little bit nicer this time hoping I would listen. We were standing outside the front of the school. “Westmount High” was plastered across the brick walls, and people were staring at me while I awkwardly posed in front of it.

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            “But Mom, you know how much I hate pictures!” I answered with a clearly annoyed tone in my voice. All of the sudden I felt my face turn bright red, as I saw Jeremy approaching my mom and me.

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             “I’ll take a picture with ya,” he said happily as he put his arm around me. I was confused why Jeremy was talking to me and I hoped he couldn’t feel that my heart was beating as fast a clock ticks. My mom quickly pulled the camera back out knowing I wouldn’t say no to him.

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              “Smile!” she said. And without hesitation my mouth opened. I gave the camera a large, full frontal view of my teeth smile. After the photo was taken, Jeremy turned to me with a grin on his face and said, “Hey, cool teeth, see you around sometime!” As he walked away I saw them. I saw the light reflect off his very own set of metal teeth.