by BJ Bentley
I stretched my legs out with a sigh and let my arms flop over the edges of the tub. I was having difficulty with the restlessness that plagued me. I blamed Damon. He didn’t even have to be in the room. Each time I thought of him, the fidgety feeling intensified. It was hard to say what I hated most about him, but if I was forced to choose, I’d probably say his arrogance, because not only was he cocky, he had a reason to be, and that made him all the more irritating. It was supremely annoying how handsome and intelligent he was. How charming he could be. And, if my sister was to be believed, he was generous, too.
Soooo totally annoying.
It was unfortunate that the man was Trouble. That’s with a capital T. And, I’d given up Trouble with a capital T a long time ago. The stories April told at dinner were all true, of course, but they all happened years ago. I was a grown ass adult now. The days of drunken revelry and shenanigans were behind me. I was responsible. I had to be. The only thing I’d ever wanted to do was teach, and molding young minds was a huge responsibility and one I took seriously. Party Girl Sophie was forced to grow up. And Grown Up Sophie took hot, rose-scented baths in claw foot tubs. She didn’t dance on tables or flash her tits at cops to get out of speeding tickets. And she most certainly did not get involved with notorious womanizers.
I was ready for my pajamas before the water cooled. Climbing out and drying off, I slipped into my cotton pajama set that featured martinis on the pants and a giant green olive on the top. Not my sexiest look, but they were cute and comfortable, and there wasn’t anyone around to see me anyway. With a generous helping of neapolitan ice cream, I sat cross-legged on the couch in front of a Parks and Rec marathon. There was something about Leslie Knope that spoke to me.
At exactly eleven o’clock, I turned the T.V. off and rinsed my bowl before placing it in the dishwasher. Turning off all the lights as I went, I climbed into bed, pulling the blankets up to my chin, and slept.
***
“Good morning, Sophie.”
I blinked at my co-worker, not fully caffeinated and therefore not as aware of my surroundings as I should have been. “Good morning, Phil.”
“Rough night?”
Ouch. I kind of wanted to smack the sympathetic smile off his face. “Just haven’t had my coffee yet, Phil.”
“Oh. Right.” I watched with evil glee as his smile faltered.
I was feeling particularly bitchy this morning after a night of dreaming all the naughty things. Which normally wouldn’t irritate me so much except that in this instance Damon Hatch had a starring role. Still, I felt bad for taking it out on Phil. It wasn’t his fault, and he was a nice guy. I needed to pull myself together.
“How are you this morning?”
“I’m well, thank you for asking.” His smile steadied, and I felt better about my earlier cattiness. “Listen, Sophie, if you’re not busy for lunch, would you like to join me?”
Crap. The previous school year, Phil had tried asking me to lunch, but I got out of it because we were on alternate lunch schedules. This year, I didn’t have that convenient excuse. I gave him my politest smile. “Sure.”
“Oh, um, great,” he said, clearly surprised by my acceptance. “I’ll see you then.” He waved goodbye just as the bell rang, and my last student settled into his seat.
I took a cautious sip from my travel mug as I surveyed my domain. “Good morning, class,” I called.
“Good morning, Miss James!” they responded in unison, which never failed to make me smile.
I instructed them to take out their reading comprehension work books and began the first lesson of the day. By the time the lunch hour came, I had confiscated two cell phones, a pack of gum, and a comic book.
“Come on, Kyle, it’s too early in the school year to be earning yourself a punishment,” I said to the dark-haired little boy who was trying to lob spit wads at one of the quiet kids across the room.
Kyle Morris came with a reputation. As the younger brother of Kaden Morris, who had been in my class the previous year, he was already on my list of students to watch. My watchlist was similar to that of the NSA’s except my list consisted of names of students who were known troublemakers rather than terrorists, though the similarities were uncanny at times. Kaden had been a monster in the classroom, and the relief I felt at him graduating from the second grade could not be measured. I got rip-roaring drunk with April the day the classroom assignments came out and I realized Kyle would be in my class this year. And here we were, day four of the new school year, and Kyle was already showing me that I had cause to worry.
The current object of Kyle’s bullying was an awkwardly quiet girl who was new to the school this year. I didn’t know much about her yet other than the fact that her family had just moved to the school district, and according to my seating chart, her name was Tierney Buchanan. Her light brown hair was parted straight down the middle and until now had been tucked behind each of her ears. Under Kyle’s unwanted attention, I noticed that she brushed her hair forward to hide her face. I wasn’t sure yet if she was shy or just introverted, but either way, she was uncomfortable. I didn’t like uncomfortable kids in my classroom. My classroom was a safe place, so I knew I’d have to nip any issues with Kyle or anyone else early in the year before they got out of control.
“All right, class,” I called, drawing their attention, “the bell is going to ring...now,” I said just as it did so, signaling that it was time for lunch followed by recess.
The kids rushed to line up at the door, and I escorted them down the hall to the cafeteria. I watched as the single-file line split into two, and those who had packed lunches headed directly into cafeteria seating. The rest lined up at the serving station. Assured that all my students were now under the watchful eyes of the lunch monitors, I made my way back to my classroom to grab my own lunch.
“Sophie? Oh, there you are.”
Coming around my desk, I saw Phil standing in the doorway. “Just grabbing my lunch.” I held up insulated cooler I carried every day.
“Oh,” he chuckled. “Great.” He swept an arm out indicating that I precede him down the hall toward the staff lounge.
Over lunch we chatted a little about the kids in our classes and our hopes for the year ahead. Phil was a nice enough guy. Kind of boring, but nice. I knew he was a little older than me; he’d started teaching before I did. With his receding hairline, wire-rimmed glasses, and monochromatic wardrobe- the guy loved beige- I deemed him...safe.
“So, I was thinking.” He swallowed before continuing. “There’s an art opening this weekend.”
“Uh huh,” I encouraged him to continue because he was taking forever to spit out whatever it was he wanted to say.
“I was thinking, if you’re not busy, maybe you’d like to go.”
“I like art,” I said with a shrug.
“Great!” His smile was a little too bright.
Oh, crap. He meant go with him. Like a date. “Um, actually…”
His face fell with my words, and I felt like a total jerk.
“I think it sounds like fun.” I smiled. He was so nice, I just couldn’t bear to burst his bubble.
“I can pick you up-”
“No! No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll meet you there.”
He seemed disappointed, but I needed to set the ground rules. This was not a date. This was two colleagues enjoying a mutual interest in neutral territory.
“I thought we could grab dinner-”
Negative, Ghost Rider. “Actually-” I couldn’t think of an excuse that wouldn’t totally crush him, and so, feeling guilty, I gave in again. “Yeah. I mean, a girl’s gotta eat, right?”
He smiled at me again, and I knew I was screwed. So much for setting ground rules. Instead, I ate quickly and made an excuse to head back to my classroom early. On the way back, I started to feel a little guilty about bailing on him. Maybe I should give him a shot. He was nice. Educated. Liked kids. So what if there was no spark? Feelings could grow, right? Lots of rela
tionships started out as friendships. Maybe this time would be no different.
Back in my classroom, I allowed myself twenty minutes to just be. I took the lavender essential oil rollerball out of my top right desk drawer and applied a dap to each temple. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing like I’d learned in yoga. A shuffling sound had me snapping my eyes open. It was a busy building, so I never expected complete quiet, but the sound I’d heard- like in a nineties horror movie- came from inside the room.
Heaving a sigh, I got up to investigate. The back of the room was cordoned off by bookcases. I’d arranged them, so they created somewhat of a partition between the rest of the classroom and the reading nook I’d designed for kids who weren’t feeling well enough to go outside for recess or those who just preferred to stay indoors and read instead of being forced into physical activity that they didn’t enjoy. In the past, the area hadn’t gotten much use, but I liked giving my students the option.
Peering over the four feet high bookcase, I smiled. “Hey, Tierney.”
I watched her head lift slowly, like she was afraid of facing me, but once she did, she made eye contact.
“You know you’re supposed to tell me if you prefer to stay in rather than go out for recess, don’t you?” I had no problem with her utilizing the reading nook, that’s what it was there for. But I was responsible for these kids while they were in my class, and I took that very seriously. Not having one of them accounted for did not sit well with me. So, if one of them was going to be in my classroom at any given time, then I needed to be there with them.
Tierney blinked slowly before whispering, “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You’ll know for next time, right?”
She nodded.
I came around the end of the bookcase, so I was no longer hovering over her. “What are you reading?”
“The Pluto Files,” she stated softly, still looking directly at me.
When I tilted my head in question, she lifted the book for me to see. She was in fact reading Neil deGrasse Tyson’s exploration of Pluto’s demotion from planet to comet. Not exactly second grade level reading material. “Interesting choice. You like astronomy?”
She nodded slowly, giving me the impression she wasn’t used to being questioned about her likes and dislikes. Did no one take an interest in her hobbies?
“What’s your favorite planet?”
“Earth.”
I barked out a laugh at her unexpected and rapid response. “I guess that makes sense.”
She didn’t smile, but her lips twitched slightly.
“Second favorite?”
“Venus,” she again answered without hesitation.
“Why Venus?”
Her eyes darted away from me as she shrugged, and I almost thought she wasn’t going to answer. She finally swung her gaze back and surprised me. “They call it Earth’s twin, but they’re not twins at all. You can’t breathe the air because it’s all carbon dioxide and the clouds are made of acid.” She spoke softly, yet confidently.
“And that’s what makes it your favorite?”
“It’s not like Earth at all.” Her brow wrinkled with what I took to be confusion. “How can they say it is?”
“I think that’s a very good question, and you’ve raised some very valid points. You should write NASA a letter.” I knew nothing about Venus other than the basics, and it was clear I needed to end this conversation before I got schooled by a seven year old.
“I already did,” she muttered, her eyes falling from my face back to her book.
Glancing at the clock, I realized we had a mere five minutes before recess ended and the rest of my students would start filing in. “Time’s almost up, kiddo,” I said gently. “You can read again tomorrow, if you like.”
“Okay,” she said simply, sliding a bookmark into her book and carrying the book to the cubby where her backpack was stored.
Chapter 4
Sophie
The next day, just before lunch, Tierney raised her hand.
“Yes, Tierney?”
“Can I read today?”
“Of course, you can.”
Kyle Morris snickered, earning him my best Serious Sophie face.
“Tierney?” I questioned when her arm shot back up.
“Can I eat lunch in here too?”
Though I didn’t have a strict no-food-in-the-classroom policy, I knew that the school didn’t allow students to take food out of the cafeteria. “Did you bring a packed lunch from home?”
I smiled when she nodded.
“Then I think that would be alright.”
When the bell rang, I instructed Tierney to walk to the cafeteria with me so I wouldn’t have to leave her unattended. Once we were both back in the classroom, I gave her the go-ahead to grab her lunch and her book and make herself comfortable in the reading nook while I reviewed that afternoon’s lessons. My own lunch consisted of a chicken salad wrap, a handful of grapes, and studiously avoiding my sister. If I answered her text messages now, I’d feel compelled to spill the beans about my non-date (date? I hadn’t decided yet) with Phil, and I didn’t know if there was anything there. I didn’t want to bring it up just in case it turned out to be a bust.
One minute before the bell rang, ending recess, Tierney emerged from the nook and placed her book and her lunch box in her assigned cubby before returning to her seat and pulling out her spelling book. She apparently had my routine down already.
I watched as the rest of my students filed into the classroom, chattering about an epic foursquare battle that had apparently taken place between them and some kids from Mary Sanderson’s third grade class.
“Alright, class,” I called out to quiet them. “Let’s get our spelling books out and open them up to page nine.” My request was met with a chorus of groans. “Oh, come on. It’s not like it’s math.” Spelling was definitely the lesser of the two evils as far as I could tell.
“Yes, Tierney?”
Tierney pulled her hand down into her lap. “I like math.”
“Okay, change of plans. Take out your math workbooks.”
The second round of groans was louder, and I shot Tierney a wink.
“You made your beds. Open up to page fourteen, please. Let’s talk about money.”
***
I contemplated calling April for help. I’d been through four outfits already, and I couldn’t find anything that said ‘you’re an okay guy, and I like you as a friend and a co-worker, but I’m not sure if I should date you, and this might just be a waste of time, but I don’t want to crush your fragile male ego. Please pass the champagne.’
Unfortunately, calling April for help would result in me explaining why I needed said help. I blew out a breath as I fell back onto my bed. I didn’t know the artist whose work we were going to see, but I was familiar with the gallery that was hosting the showing. It was a well-established gallery with a reputation for launching some of the premier artists on the west coast, if not the country. In other words, it was a place to see and be seen as much as it was a showcase for the insanely talented.
I sat back up, deciding that I couldn’t go wrong with a little black dress. I pulled the knee-length, off-the-shoulder dress with the straps that criss-crossed around my upper arms out of the closet and laid it across the bed. Once my hair and make-up was done, I slipped into the dress and a pair of pink Betsey Johnson t-strap heels. Fabric flowers graced the center strap from the ankle to the toe. The shoes were my way of letting Party Girl Sophie come out to play.
When I arrived at the gallery, Phil was nervously pacing in front of the entrance. He gave me a look of surprise as exiting the underground parking garage and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
“Sophie!” he called, waving.
I plastered on my politest smile and strode toward him. “Phil.”
He leaned in like he was aiming to kiss my cheek but thought better of it before stepping back awkwardly. “You look, just, wow. Really pretty,” he gushed.
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“Uh, thank you.”
Again, he moved like he was going to touch me, but dropped his hand just as he got too close. His nervousness was kind of cute but also off-putting in a way. I was unsure enough for the both of us, I didn’t need a man who also didn’t know what he wanted.
“Shall we?” He gestured, indicating that I should walk ahead of him. “I’m sorry if I seem overly nervous. I just wasn’t sure that you’d come.”
I frowned, turning to look at him. “Why would you think I wouldn’t come?”
“Well, you’re you. And I’m me, so…” His words trailed off, leaving me to interpret that for myself.
“Phil,” I lowered my voice, “if I didn’t want to come tonight, I wouldn’t have accepted. But I would never stand you up. That’s rude.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend-”
“No, no, it’s alright. I’m not offended. I just don’t want you to think so poorly of me.”
“Oh, I don’t. I think you’re wonderful.” His smile was contagious even if it was just a little too bright and optimistic.
I accepted the glass of champagne he handed me with a grateful smile. I had the sneaking suspicion this evening was going to be a difficult one to get through without the help of a little bubbly. We strolled into the first exhibit, a collection of black and white photographs of a nude woman in various poses. There was nothing particularly explicit about the photos, but they were inherently sexy.
“Oh, I, um…”
“Phil? Are you blushing?” I couldn’t help but tease him. He was positively crimson.
He cleared his throat. “I didn’t expect...I’m so sorry, Sophie. We can leave if-”
