Turn 4 of 26

Dr. Prewitt Starts going over problems as everyone writes down the same thing in the same handwriting. Dr. Prewitt Then calls on one of the girls whose name tag says Megan. She answer with a lisp and you notice the braces in her mouth. Dr. Prewitt keeps writing more problems and calling on more girls who all speak the exact same, with a lisp and braces messing up their speech.

"Problem four," Dr. Prewitt says, and writes it out in chalk with the patience of someone who has done this a thousand times.

"Megan. Walk us through it."

The girl three rows down stands, chair scraping in unison with nothing else in the room. Her name tag says MEGAN in careful capitals. She's heavyset and pale like the rest of them, pigtails stacked high, and when she opens her mouth you catch the glint of metal — a full set of braces, wired and rubber-banded, crowding her teeth.

"Firtht you isolate the thcalar on the left thide," Megan says, and the lisp pours through every word, the S's whistling against the brackets. "Then you thubthtitute back into the thecond equation."

"Correct," Dr. Prewitt says. "Class, write that down." Twenty-nine pencils, and yours, move together.

"Priya. Problem five."

Priya stands. Priya lisps. A girl named Danielle stands, and Danielle lisps, braces flashing as she mangles the word "subspace" into something with four extra S's. None of them stumble on the math — only on the words — and every answer earns the same unhurried "Correct" from the front of the room. You begin to understand that the braces are not a coincidence of this class. They are the uniform. The lisp is the voice the uniform comes with.

Your stomach tightens in a way that has nothing to do with hunger. Your tongue keeps drifting up against your own teeth, and you freeze, cataloguing every surface — smooth, smooth, smooth — until you catch yourself doing it and stop, heart tapping fast. For now, there's nothing there.

"And our newest member," Dr. Prewitt says, chalk pausing mid-stroke.

"Emma. Problem six. Stand up and speak clearly, dear — the room wants to hear you."

Your chair scrapes back. Your legs lift you. And your mouth opens, your tongue already pressing up against your teeth on its own, reaching for the first S.