My mind went on full alert. My body didn’t even miss a beat. I made a hurried but confident bee-line for the step stool in front of my classroom sink. “Sink in your bathroom is a little high, actually,” I lied.
“Yeah?” my coworker asked. I was gambling that she didn’t pay attention to how tall or short the sink was. Like the toilet, it was something that was largely ignored in her class.
“That and I didn’t want to take soap from your classroom,” I added. “Your guys need soap too.”
My gamble paid off. “Nah,” Mrs. Beouf waved my remark off. “We stick mostly to wipes and hand sanitizer in my room. Mrs. Zoge and I are the only ones who wash our hands, and we use the bigger sink.”
I figured as much, but the faux consideration made the lie more believable. Beouf was talking to me like I was a person again; not a doll.
“Where do you want these chairs to go?” she asked.