Second Best

"Could be worse." She strapped the gas mask around her head, "I could be dying."
"How are so sure you're not?" Her friend asked from across the room, staring aimlessly out the dirt fogged window.
"My hair isn't falling out yet." She snapped the straps around her neck, not bothering to pay any more mind to the girl than she would the grass if it still grew.
"And here I thought you were second best at everything..." She said. Her fingers raked through her limp hair pulling out clumps of long lifeless strands from under the leather straps binding the mask to her face.