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right?” added Ogden.
    Mrs. Mobilio was not popular; she was visited by students infrequently and flattered even less. “It is one of the hats I wear,” she murmured.
    â€œAre you going to do anything?” asked Hugh.
    â€œThe term is almost up. Do you think you can live with this situation for”—she turned several pages on her desk calendar—“three more weeks?”
    â€œThen are you gonna fire her?”
    â€œI don’t have any such powers, and furthermore, I explained to you about fairness and due process here at Harding.”
    â€œHis grandfather’s a trustee,” said Hugh, pointing to Ogden. “Plus, his father and all his uncles went here.”
    â€œThey could’ve named the new science building after him, but he likes to give money away anonymously,” Ogden said.
    â€œYou’re crazy if you don’t call him,” said Rufus. “I think he’d love to know that a teacher called you a shithead inside the building he paid for.”
    â€œAre you gonna talk to Miss Batten?” asked Hugh.
    â€œShe’s fucked,” Rufus mouthed to his roommate.
    Hugh added, “I mean, she’s nice sometimes, but most of the time you can tell she hates us.”
    â€œNo one at Harding hates anyone,” said Mrs. Mobilio.

    â€œThey’re lying,” Sunny told her chairman, Fred Samuels, who was sporting his trademark bow tie and buzz cut.
    â€œMore than one reported it.”
    â€œWho were they?”
    â€œI promised I wouldn’t say.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œThe usual fears—that you’d find out and they may have to face the music.”
    â€œMe?” asked Sunny. “
I’m
the music?”
    Samuels picked up his pen. “I need to ask your version of events.”
    Sunny looked down at her lap. She’d been called out of practice and was still wearing a glove on her left hand.
    â€œThey say you called them names,” he prompted. “They said epithets were hurled—”
    â€œThey used that word?
Epithets?
”
    â€œI need to know your version of events,” he repeated.
    â€œThis is not a version—this is the truth: I came into class and someone had drawn a naked man lying on top of a naked woman on the blackboard, and both were waving golf clubs in the air.” She took off her glove and stuffed it into the pocket of her chinos. “Not to be confused with the man’s erect, anatomically correct shaft.”
    â€œI see. And what did you do?”
    â€œI erased it, and then I turned around and said, ‘You’re like real-life clichés of nasty boys in movies about prep schools.’ ”
    â€œThey said you swore at them.”
    â€œI called them nasty, spoiled brats.”
    â€œIs there any chance you used the words
little shits
or
shitheads
?”
    â€œNone.”
    â€œAnd if they reported that, they’d be lying?”
    â€œCorrect.”
    â€œStill—it’s unusual for students to go to Mrs. Mobilio and complain about a teacher not having any control over the class.”
    Sunny said, “Mrs. Mobilio? That changes the complexion of this matter slightly, I would say.”
    Mr. Samuels’s face reddened.
    â€œClearly, you grasped the significance of the golf clubs.”
    â€œHard not to,” he murmured.
    â€œI don’t know what you’ve heard, but I am not having an affair with Chuck Mobilio.”
    â€œI was quite sure of that,” he mumbled.
    â€œIt’s a stupid rumor based on the fact that he coaches varsity and I coach the j.v. and we happen to share an office.”
    Samuels put his pen down and lowered his voice.
“Entre nous?”
    Sunny nodded.
    â€œChuck may have had a dalliance or two in the past, before you came here. There may be a problem between him and Nancy in the trust department.” He put his fingers to his lips. “You didn’t hear this from me.”
    Sunny