Houlihan lingered overeach shot for several minutes. He had never faced this situation before in his life. He was enraged and shocked and totally turned on. He had a thing for young girls, and even being in his mid twenties, never seemed to show interest in anyone his own age. He despised slutty women, yet the more reserved women who crossed his path bored him. Women should be saints everywhere except the bedroom, that was his theory on things. Girls like Monica enraged him because he was well aware of their power and so were they. He had wanted what he termed the “better quality” girls but ended up with the looser women. He tolerated them, but they were not interested in the type of games he wanted to play. He was well acquainted with frustration and humiliation and having to eat dirt to get somewhere in life. Women like Monica would have an easy time of it in life; from wealthy, loving parents to a wealthy, loving husband. Houlihan hadn’t had that. His parents didn’t understand the value of a good education, and that was part of the reason why they were poor. Early in life he knew the way out was through school, and from fifth grade on he made nothing but As. Because of his study habits, he rarely dated, and his father assumed he was gay. Houlihan wasn’t, but because of too many trips outside to be paddled (usually for minor infractions) spanking became an obsession. almanbahis It got worse when he joined a fraternity. During hell week, he was spanked for not dropping to his knees and squealing whenever one of his frat brothers blew a whistle, and other stupid things. He joined a fraternity to get valuable connections. At times he loathed it, but he figured it was just one more thing in life he had to do in order to get where he wanted to be. And now he had this good-paying job helping the sons and daughters of the town’s movers and shakers (the Catholic ones, at least) get into good schools and prosper. But he also was allowed to steer the wayward onto the right path. And Monica was thumbing her nose at convention. There hadn’t been anyone like her at St. Veronica’s, not ever. In time, Houlihan became obsessed with her. The pictures were tantalizing. Presumably, Monica had goals after high school. Houlihan decided to have her in for a little chat. Perhaps he could get what he wanted. He was not above bribery. * * * Monica was a little surprised when she got the note in Spanish class summoning her to Houlihan’s office after school, if she didn’t have any other obligations. Her last class was World History, and it was there that she took the note out again and looked at it. Gabriel Houlihan. It was impossible not to have noticed the handsome new guidance counselor; she’d almanbahis yeni giriş heard some girls in the locker room talking about him. She merely listened; she hadn’t had anything to say about him. But she was intrigued. He didn’t seem very old. She hadn’t talked to him at all; it was still early in the school year. The one-on-one college meetings wouldn’t start up for another month or so. So she was definitely wondering what was going on. Her grades were impeccable. So what was it? Monica thought carefully. There was a girl that she’d been mean to, starting last spring. She was brilliant, but unpopular. Not very good looking, either. Brenda Hartley would make a good nun, except she wasn’t headed in that direction. She wasn’t popular with the boys at all, and had a couple girlfriends, but that was about it. Brenda seemed very conservative and judgmental about things, and since Monica had no qualms about flaunting her body, it pissed her off. Monica enjoyed making Brenda feel bad about herself, and it was obvious she did feel bad. The plain face, the heavy body, both of those things were strikes against her. Yes, she was very smart too, and would probably get a good paying job somewhere. A good college was definitely in her future, but she struck Monica as one of those teenagers who seemed in their forties already. And not a good kind of in their forties; almanbahis giriş no, this was work your ass off until you die kind of forties. Not like her parents, both of whom had successful careers and had invested their money carefully. They seemed to enjoy their jobs and had enough money to be happy and have a few of the nicer things in life. Monica couldn’t imagine Brenda in a nice house twenty-two years from now; she seemed like the type of girl to deny herself the finer things in life, just because she could. Monica could tell Brenda was the kind of girl who thought behaving would earn her brownie points. If she only knew! Monica and Brenda were the same age, but in many ways, Monica was much older. So far, she’d been lucky in her choices. She’d wrapped the boys around her finger, and she lorded it over the girls. She picked on Brenda because she was such an easy target, and why not? It was fun. After world history, she went to her locker and figured out which books she should take home. She was actually tempted to buy extra copies of her textbooks for each of her classes so she could have a set at school and a set at home. She supposed the extra weight of her backpack was making her strong. They had a gym set up in the basement at home, where Monica worked out regularly. She was obsessed with her body and her grades. She would make them work for her. She made her way to the administrative wing, which was in an older building. As the school got more and more successful and popular, it was imperative that it had to make room for the students, whose numbers seemed to grow bigger almost every year.