Odilie paused by her own car, lifted a hand in a wave. “You know you shouldn’t be smoking right after the whitening. It can reverse the effects.” It was a cloying, prudish thing to say. But there was something about this woman, the way in which she carried herself, that provoked Odilie, made her want to engage. She couldn’t put her finger on why.

The woman rose up from her awkward position, her black tank top rising with her, offering a sliver of toned stomach. She took another drag of the cigarette, exhaling the fumes in Odilie’s direction. “Thanks, hon. You would know best.” She smiled then, her eyes squinting ever so slightly with the effort. Odilie saw the crinkle even from two cars away. “Have you ever smoked? Or do they bar you from working at a dental office if you have?”

“Maybe once or twice in my heyday,” Odilie answered, surprised by her own quip.

“You’re barely twenty years old,” she said, not unkindly. “Well, how about thrice for good measure? It’s a whole lot more relaxing than that gum you’re chewing.” Odilie paused her rotating jaw and spit the gum into a wrapper. Was it that obvious? She really should be getting home, especially if she wanted to have that drink before heading to her parents’. But maybe a cigarette would suffice, would ease the blooming tension she already felt in her chest at the evening ahead.

She circled her car and joined the woman by the Alfa Romeo, its bumper gleaming in the setting sun. “Peri,” the woman said as she stuck out her hand, long nails digging into Odilie’s flesh as they shook. “But you should know that already. Since you were just looking inside my mouth.” Peri plucked out a cigarette and handed it to Odilie, lighting it for her as Odilie brought it to her lips.

“I love the dentist. It’s so relaxing.” She flicked some ash by Odilie’s foot. Odilie tried for a scoff. “You think I’m kidding? That’s why I made this appointment out here in the first place. I missed the dentist. All I want to do is lie back in a chair and have people make me prettier. The pain is worth the gain. That’s a cliché, but it’s a true one. Especially for women. What’s your name?”

Odilie told her.

“Wow, fancy. You don’t hear names like that in these parts.” She eyed Odilie’s burning cigarette, the ash sticking to the filter. Odilie self-consciously flicked it. She didn’t want to inhale again, afraid she would cough.

Then Peri reached out, grazed one nail gently down Odilie’s cheek, the gesture so quick, so light, that when Peri took her hand away Odilie felt, for a moment, like she’d imagined it. She shivered, despite the heat, her gaze dropping to the corner, to the car’s tire.