The Promotion

Nothing happens for the rest of that week. The mundane happens, of course—she wakes up, jogs around the park circuit, plays the role of dutiful, loving wife and responsible, efficient English teacher—but no Brad Silverstone. His seat remains empty. She knows why—busy with stuff more important than what her classroom contains—and yet each morning she couldn't help but stare at his seat and imagine he's there, smiling that beatific, knowing smile.

Mr. Frome is also keeping her busy—that is, if making her wish that Mr. Frome chokes on his own saliva each time he encounters her on the hallway and chirps, "Good morning, Katy Perry!" counts. Sure, it's a nice compliment, but whenever something like that slithers out of Mr. Frome's mouth, the string of words feels like it's covered with green slime that stinks of whatever effluvium emanates from the depths of that man's throat.

At one point, she doesn't exactly remember when or how, thanks to this continuing daze, Sophia finds all the teachers at the lounge staring at her when she appears for lunch. Guy Mendes promptly stands up, shakes her hand and says, "Congratulations!" The others responded to her sheer expression of bafflement with, "Congratulations, Miss Masterson!"

"Me? What about?"

"Aren't you replacing Carol?"

Sophia looks at each of their faces searching for a clue that this might be a prank, but even Mrs. Reyes—incorruptible, no-nonsense Mrs. Reyes—is clutching her hands to her ample bosom with an expression that says "You're so lucky!"

"I—I'm not sure what this means."

"We just heard from the grapevine that the school owners are seriously considering you," Mr. Frome says, a steaming mug of coffee in hand. "Drink to that?"

"Thank you," says Sophia, "but I'd rather…" I'd rather smash that mug on the floor and stab my neck with the shards, is how Sophia would like to put it, but she smiles and shakes her head and whimpers, "Well, uhm, there must be a misunderstanding. I'll clear this up with Mister Yasuhiro as soon as possible."

The lunch that proceeds leaves her more bloated than full. The other teachers chirp about the Carol Smith Era as if it were an important, distinct epoch in the history of mankind, complete with personal anecdotes about how trashy Carol was or how Mr. Pope even saw an inkling of the tremendous evil Carol was capable of. Sophia cringes each time Carol's name is mentioned—the joke's too soon. Guy Mendes keeps reaching over the table, touching her hand and whispering, "I'm so proud of you, Sophia." If this had been a different time—before all the confusion—she would find this mildly amusing, to say the least. But not having any clear grip on where she actually stands, right now, on things is not exactly causing a surge on her pheromones.

After her classes are finished that afternoon, she couldn't take it anymore and decides to pay Principal Yasuhiro a surprise visit. Ken Yasuhiro has been a dear friend of her husband—they go a long way, as Derek would describe it. Yet Derek has not brought up the dildo incident at home—it seems Yasuhiro has not informed the husband about it, or maybe he considers the topic too delicate to discuss on the phone—probably Yasuhiro's just waiting for a chance to have a sit-down with Derek about what happened with his wife.

Sophia barges into Principal Yasuhiro's office. She finds the principal reasonably shocked when he sees her, not because of the explosive way she barged into the office, but because he's holding a dildo against the light of the windows.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sophia," Yasuhiro makes that I-have-nothing-to-do-with-this-dildo gesture while still holding the rubber toy. "I have been meaning to return this to you."

"Oh," Sophia says. "No need for that. I just—" Sophia sighs—"I just don't want to see that again.

"But this is yours. Err, I mean, this was the item of contention. Surely, you need it as some sort of a remembrance, right?"

"You can keep it, Ken."

"Are you sure?" Yasuhiro holds the dildo to his bosom incredulously. "You're giving this to me? This big, veiny rubber cock?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you!" Principal Yasuhiro quickly slides the dildo into his desk drawer, an inscrutable smile on his face. He pats his coat and rearranges things on his desk and hums a song. He jolts when he sees Sophia standing there, as if seeing her for the first time.

"What can I do for you, Sophia?"

"It's about the assistant principal position. I'm not sure if you've—"

"Ah, yes. I am placing you in that position that has been regrettably hastily vacated by Miss Smith."

"But I can't accept it!"

Yasuhiro's face crumples in a millions furrows. "But why not?"

"I don't feel good about it." Sophia looks around, as if searching for words on the walls. "I just don't want to have anything to do with Carol Smith, past, present or future."

"I don't follow."

"This position, this was Carol Smith." The silence in the room grows louder. "I'm happy to continue teaching in the same capacity, Ken. The offer is generous—very generous, indeed, considering I have been teaching in this school for less than a year—but I'm sure someone else deserves it more than I."

Yasuhiro says nothing. He looks into her eyes and gently rubs his chin. "I see. But you should know, the order comes from the very top."

Sophia shrugs. "Perhaps the very top doesn't really know what's going on at the very bottom."

"Maybe so." Yasuhiro falls silent. He looks at her, but doesn't really see her. He squints. "Would you have anyone in mind?"

"Off the top of my head? I'd choose Mrs. Reyes. Or Mr. Mendes."

"What about Mr. Frome?"

Sophia couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, Mr. Frome. If you want to run this school down to the ground."

Ken Yasuhiro, always a reasonable man, laughs, too. It's a delicate task, this business of finding the right person. He had been delighted when someone from the Silverstone office called him up about giving Sophia Carol's former position—"damage control", they said, to discourage Miss Masterson to sue the school or anything. Although Yasuhiro's sure that such a bribe isn't needed, he was happy to oblige. Now he'd have to find someone else—some of the candidates make his stomach turn.

"Will you say hello to Derek for me?" Yasuhiro stands up and shakes her hand, too formally to be completely unnecessary.

"Sure, Ken."

Sophia has been gone for a long time yet Ken Yasuhiro could still smell her perfume. He opens the drawer and, sure that no one else would barge into his office at this late hour, takes out the dildo again and admires it from all angles. He wonders how sexy it could have been if this rubber thing was actually owned by Sophia Masterson—that this dildo used to be inside her. He couldn't even wrap his mind around it. It's too goddamn hot to contemplate. He's just too happy to own the next best thing—maybe this used to be inside Carol Smith, and he could settle with that thought.

Alone in her car, unwilling to go home to an empty house (Derek would be at the office, again, "finalizing the details and what-not"), Sophia just sits there, not even wanting to turn on the engine. Her hand gropes inside her bag and finds a mobile phone. She stares at it. Her thumb scrolls down the list of contact names, and before long, she stops at B. Brad. This is crazy. This has to stop. Sophia decides that if she could speak with Brad and talk about what happened there at the elevator, then everything would be alright. She presses the Call key. She waits for the other end to ring. Three rings and he doesn't answer, I'll… The first ring reverberates across time and space. Her heart races. Blood pounds in her eardrums. A faint click, and Brad's voice—soft, cool, eager—is music to her ears. "Hello? Sophia?" It's too much to bear. Sophia abruptly hangs up. She tosses the phone into her bag and drives out of there, her head filled with the sensual memory of that kiss.