Orthodontics in the Zombie Apocalypse

11. Angel Tells Her Story, Then it Rains (2/2)

I wake to a sharp jab in my side and grumble rude expletives. "What?" I finally say coherently.

"Did you want to leave early today?" Mikah asks.

I try to sink further back into the plump pillows. Maybe he'll go away. "Yeah."

"It's half past eight."

The horror must be plain on my face because he waits, foot tapping. "You overestimate my idea of early. By that, I meant nine--nine-thirty, even."

"Angel and I are ready when you are, anyway. I made breakfast and packed some food to go, too."

"Well aren't you something special," I mock. "Gets up at the butt crack of dawn to make a balanced breakfast and pack some healthy snacks."

"I got up at half past seven and toasted some frozen waffles. And I packed chips and canned nonperishables..."

I roll my eyes behind thin skin shields. "Still."

He doesn't move even when I make an obvious attempt to continue sleeping. I hear him shift from one foot to the other. "Are you getting up now or not?"

"Not. It's the zombie apocalypse. The least I can do is take advantage of the fact that I don't have school or a job or any other responsibilities that might require me to wake up at some ungodly hour."

"Are you sure? The longer we wait, the less likely we'll make it to my uncle before something happens..."

My eyes pop open. "Fine!" I groan, throwing off the covers in a theatrical manner, and jump out of bed.

Mikah takes in my skimpy choice of PJ's--namely the fact that it's only a shirt and undies.

"What? I got hot last night."

He merely shakes his head and backs out of the room.

I fish my torn and bloody dress out of the garbage before we leave, having reminded myself that the thing has pockets, and grab the pack of mint gum from within the depths of soft fabric. I also grab my cellphone, which has been largely forgotten and entirely useless without a compatible charger.

"What on Earth do you need that for? There's not even cell reception!"

I shrug at the little girl. "I found a charging cord. And I have games I like to play. Don't come to me asking for relief of boredom if you're going to knock it."

Angel shakes her head in disbelief.

"We need another car," I announce once we bid Shaniya and Sean goodbye and step onto the front porch.

Mikah lifts a hand to feel the drops of rain pouring down. We exchange glances.

"On second thought, we should just leave tomorrow. As much as I want these braces off, I'd rather not get blisters from walking through puddles in heels until we find a decent car."

The other two nod vigorously in agreement.

"Sean, they made it back already! So, girl, how are the teeth? Smooth and pearly?"

I glare at Shaniya. "Your disregard for my life struggles is disgusting."

"Oh, I bet your life has been tough, Little Miss Privileged White Girl from the Suburbs!"

My hands clench to fists. "I've been in braces for years and the zombie apocalypse started the day I was supposed to get them off!"

"Wow, that really sucks. Hey, Sean, I guess we should feel lucky that we were never allowed to get braces." Sean grunts in response. "And lucky that we moved from foster home to foster home because our parents were racially profiled and given unjust sentences for crimes we're not sure they committed, and none of our foster parents wanted to pay for orthodontics."

I cross my arms. "At least your life sounds exciting. I had monthly ortho appointments and the same routine every day. And I had to live with the same people because my family was your typical, middle class, white family with two kids that lived in the suburbs. But I couldn't get a dog to complete this typical existence because Charles was allergic."

"Sounds rough. Sean, do you remember the Eu Clare's dog? That beast of a Rottweiler?"

Sean nods.

Shaniya stares me down as she continues. "That awful mutt attacked Sean when he was playing outside and nearly took off his right arm."

"At least you had a dog," I mutter.

"You are unbelievable."

"It's not my fault my parents are white, stable people who weren't caught in the vicious cycle of racist socioeconomics dating back to the Civil Rights era! And, sor-ry that I didn't have to live in foster homes or have a dog that tried to kill me. It's not my fault that my life isn't as interesting as yours!"

Shaniya looks at Mikah. "Is that really why she's upset? Her life wasn't as interesting?"

Mikah side-shrugs. "You've met her before, haven't you?"

My eyes narrow. "Oh, don't worry, everyone! I'm fine. I'm happy that my privileged life has left me with the most lasting problems now that the zombie apocalypse has leveled the social hierarchy. I'm sure you're all happy too!" I march up to the bedroom Angel and I shared last night--which I only found out this morning that she had been on the floor after she told me.

"Foster kids, huh? I was too, for a while." Mikah's considerate voice drifts annoyingly through the crack under the door.

"Yeah. We both joined the military as soon as we could to get out of the situation. Got two years of free education out of it."

I drift off to sleep again as they talk about their sad, exciting lives.

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A/N
Hello, my dear readers! Thank you for sticking with Orthodontics in the Zombie Apocalypse! I hope you're enjoying the crude humor and satirization I can't help writing into this story.

My apologies for humor you may find offensive! (But not really. If you were so offended, you shouldn't have kept reading this far.)

Please drop a comment (or five),  hit that little orange star button, and share with your friends if you think Piper
should have more support in her quest to get those darn braces off.

Now, I'm curious, what has been your favorite part of the story so far? What do you want to see in the future?