To get an X-Ray

Jorgensen led her away from the stares of the people in the waiting room and into a room with bulky equipment inside. "Room" might have been a stretch, since it was more of an alcove of the hallway that lacked doors.

"Brad said he felt a dimple in one of your teeth, and I felt it too. I don't think it's a cavity, but it is best for us to make sure anyway. Please stand still and bite down on this," the dentist grabbed both of Melissa's bare hips and moved her into position, before giving her a rubber stick that smelled and tasted of the faintest dental office scent. She bit down on the stick, and Jorgensen moved the camera to the right side of her face.

Melissa was still in full view of whoever walked by in the hallway, which seemed to be quite a bit of traffic. Melissa could see people stare at her out of her peripheral vision, and even after all that had happened she was still insecure of who was looking at her. So, every time she saw a moving blur slow down at her room, she couldn't help but turn her head to face the person and hopefully get them to leave. This, of course, interfered with the X-ray, as her head motions always seemed to blur the pictures the dentist was taking.

"Melissa, please stop looking to your side. I can't take your X-ray if your head keeps moving."

"Sorry, sir," she eked out as well as someone with a mouth full could do, "I'll try not to move my head."

"Very good," the dentist continued, "I hope you succeed."