Chapter One
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I am in more trouble than I ever imagined possible. I
have always been very goal oriented and very much in
charge of my life. Or at least I thought I was. I knew
from an early age that I wanted to work with troubled
kids in some capacity. I excelled in school and I was
on the honor roll from the first grade until I
graduated from school. I always took the tough subjects
and my grades were perfect so I had no problem getting
into the university that I had my heart set on
attending. Even if my father had not graduated from
there I would have had no problems getting in.
I carried a 4.0 grade average throughout my
undergraduate studies and it seemed like I breezed
through my post graduate work in my chosen field. It
was so easy it scared me. Really! When it was all over
and I had my Doctorate I kept thinking, "Is that all
there is?" I had a nagging fear for a while that they
were going to send me a letter some day and tell me
that I forgot to do something to meet some requirement
and they had just discovered it.
For years people kept trying to convince me to change
my goals, to study medicine or law or to get into
computer science and become the next Bill Gates.
Everyone who knew me seemed to think that I should go
for the money.
I wasn't interested in the money. That may be because I
had never really needed money. My father saw to that.
He had inherited some money from his father and after a
very successful business career he had entered politics
and was a well respected and very senior Senator now.
I wouldn't say that I had been spoiled. Well, maybe a
little. But I had always had to keep my grades up,
which was no problem, and be active in my community and
just generally be a good citizen.
The things that my father stressed more than anything
else though were having high morals and maintaining a
spotless reputation. He was proud of me and what I had
achieved academically, but it had always been clear
that he was more concerned that I never did anything to
attract negative attention.
I suppose that I knew in the back of my mind that the
reason for that was more to protect his political
career than out of any concern for my moral
development. It didn't bother me though. His reputation
was extremely important to him and always had been. I
understood that and I didn't have a problem with it. I
had, after all, been raised to be, and had indeed
become a moral person.
All of that makes it so hard to understand how I got
into the mess I'm in now. I guess I should tell you a
little about myself. I just turned twenty-five. I am
5'2", and weigh one hundred and five pounds after a big
meal. I have a slender figure and my breasts are kind
of small, just barely a B cup. I have bright red hair
and what is often referred to as porcelain skin. My
skin is this white for a reason. I have to stay out of
the sun or I turn into a freckle factory.
I am very physically fit. I run several miles a day and
up until I started working full time last year I used
to go to the gym three times a week. I keep intending
to start back once I find the time. I never seem to
have the time for that anymore though. Still, I keep
busy and I watch what I eat. I would have to say that I
am in excellent shape.
I am very happily married to Dennis Hall. He is two
years older than I am. We met when I was in grad
school. He was a year ahead of me but we didn't meet at
school. We lived in the same apartment building just
off campus. We met at the pool and for as long as he
lived there we never went out on a date. We would meet
at the pool or do laundry together and we invited each
other over for lunch or dinner fairly often as we got
to know each other better. But it was a platonic
friendship and nothing more. Dennis was as devoted to
his studies as I was to mine and we didn't have a lot
of time or energy to devote to our love lives.
After Dennis got his Doctorate he quickly found a
prestigious job. It had an unbelievable high starting
salary, it was in his home town, and he just couldn't
turn it down. We were both sad when he had to move to
the other side of the state. I missed him so much when
he left that it surprised me. The funny thing was, we
had not thought of our relationship as a romance. Not
until he was gone and I realized how much I missed him.
As it turns out, he missed me too.
He started calling me in the evening and when he had
the time he would drive down to see me and we both
thought that it was funny that we didn't have our first
real date until he had moved away. When I first
realized that he missed me as much as I missed him I
can't even describe how happy I was.
Dennis is a very handsome man and we are intellectual
equals, which we both think is important. We have a lot
in common. We like the same books and movies and music.
Our fathers are both prominent. Dennis's father is also
very involved in politics and is considering running
for Governor in the next election.
The only thing that has ever been a bone of contention
between us is that Dennis is much more religious than I
am. He thinks that religion is important and insists
that we attend church every Sunday. It isn't just that
he wants to be seen at church either. He really enjoys
going and thinks that it is important.
I have a different perspective. I believe in God, but I
don't think much of religion, or at least I don't think
much good of religion. I actually believe that the
world would be a better place without it.
We have had some heated 'discussions' about that, but
to keep peace in the house I let him drag me to church
on Sunday. I hardly even complain about it, but he
knows how I feel.
Neither of us was a virgin when we married. Who is in
this day and age? But we were both pretty inexperienced
and when it comes to sex I guess that you could say
that we were both pretty naïve.
After I graduated I had dozens of job offers to choose
from. My perfect grades, my academic credits and my
experiences in community service were, I hope, the
determining factors in my selection. I would hate to
think that I was selected solely because my father was
one of our state's two Senators, though I would be
surprised if that wasn't a factor.
When it came to choosing where I wanted to work it
wasn't even a contest. I was offered the perfect job in
the same town that Dennis was working in. I had a very
comfortable starting salary and a modern, well equipped
office. I even had an assistant and a secretary!
To be honest, I was surprised that I had been chosen
for the job. The man who was in charge of the hiring
was a prominent member of the other political party and
he and my father had, over the years, had some very
bitter disagreements.
I had been interviewed for the job twice and at first I
assumed that I had gotten the job despite my father. I
was starting to wonder if I had gotten the job because
the man that hired me, Superintendant Ross, wanted my
father's daughter under his thumb for some sort of
future leverage. Fortunately, we didn't see each other
often. But when it we did he wasn't very nice to me.
I went out of my way to make it clear to him, and
anyone else that I felt it necessary to convince, that
I was apolitical and had no intention of being a pawn
in state politics. Not in national politics either. I
was just well informed enough to vote my conscience.
Other than voting I stayed completely out of politics.
My job turned out to be everything I could hope for. I
was working with troubled kids and it was just as
rewarding as I had imagined it would be. I worked at
one of the largest high schools in this corner of the
state. They had a pretty good mix of students. There
were kids from every socioeconomic level.
Of course, I seldom came into contact with the children
of the well to do parents. I had only slightly more
interaction with the vast majority of the student body,
the children of the middleclass. I worked almost
exclusively with the underprivileged children in the
school. That isn't a complaint. That is just what I had
in mind when I chose this profession.
Right now you are probably thinking "What could that
spoiled brat have to complain about? She has always
gotten everything she wanted?!"
Well, you would be pretty much right about that, except
that I don't think I am spoiled. I always thought that
I had a pretty good grip on reality and I have always
worked hard for what I got. Granted, I was much loved
and well cared for as I grew up.
Despite my privileged upbringing I never looked down on
anyone because of their economic circumstances. I never
treated anyone different because of their race. I was
not 'stuck up' and I don't think that I am conceited.
Actually, I suppose that I am one of those 'bleeding
heart liberals' that my father always rails about. I
truly believe that a society should be judged by the
way it treats the neediest of its citizens.
Now, back to my problem. I got into the mess that I'm
in because of a combination of circumstances. The first
has more than a little to do with religion. Well, it
has to do with religion and sex. I have never had to
try and explain this before. I hope this doesn't get
too confusing.
I dated a few times in high school. I am reasonably
attractive and I have a nice sexy figure. I am a little
more compact than some men like but I have all the
right curves in all the right places. I also have a
pretty face, a friendly smile and a nice personality.
So I was asked out as much as any other girl in high
school.
I had boyfriends throughout high school and once I
started falling for a guy I got into kissing and
petting and I enjoyed the hell out of it. I enjoyed it
so much that I probably would have been promiscuous if
guys could have kept their mouth shut when they got
lucky. The only reason I said no as often as I did was
to protect my reputation. I said no a lot of times that
I desperately wanted to say yes.
I loved being kissed by a boy and being touched. I
still do. That is a large part of the problem. My
husband, it turns out, is not a very good lover. That
wouldn't be so bad if he were open to change. In his
mind, however, the primary reason to have intercourse
is to procreate. He requires little or no foreplay and
once he has an erection he is ready to make love in the
missionary position for only exactly as long as it
takes for him to achieve orgasm.
As it turns out, that isn't very long. I get the
impression that in his mind I should not even have
needs and the mere mention of it is very disturbing to
him. He believes that any decent woman has sex only
because it is her duty to please her husband and to go
forth and multiply. These are some of the warped values
that he has picked up from his Holy Roller church. And
people wonder why I have a low opinion of religion!
So the upshot is that the only one in our marriage bed
receiving sexual satisfaction was my husband. It was
enough to make me cry, and it did. I had loved the all
too few sexual experiences I had had and I had so
looked forward to being married and having a good,
satisfying sex life. The problem was that any time I
tried to raise the subject I got a lecture on how lucky
I was. Despite the fact that I had not been a virgin,
which meant that I was not a good candidate for
marriage, Dennis had forgiven me and didn't hold that
against me. Bless his heart!
I swear that I had no clue that he was so screwed up
about sex when we got married. He had tried desperately
to get in my pants once we started dating and sex was a
frequent topic of conversation with him. I never once
got the impression that he felt the way that he did
about it.
That was the first, and probably the main reason that I
ended up in the mess that I'm in now. I was desperately
horny.
The second reason was Nathan White's big, soft,
wistful, expressive, brown eyes that seemed to look
right into my soul.
Nathan was one of my students. I saw him twice a week.
He was right on the edge of being lost and I thought
that I had a real chance to get through to him and save
him from a life of ignorance and poverty.
He is sixteen years old but looks older. He is six feet
tall and very muscular. He is only an adequate student
but from talking to him I know that he is incredibly
intelligent. His mother is a single mom and she doesn't
know who his father is. She pays almost no attention to
Nathan and once he leaves the school grounds in the
afternoon I have been told that he hangs around with a
really bad crowd.
From the very start I made Nathan one of my special
projects. I was certain that I could save him from a
life of poverty and prison. He was teetering right on
the edge and I knew that it would be horrible if that
soft spoken, attractive, intelligent young man were to
lean the wrong way. I was sure that I could get through
to him and save him from the life that seemed to be
waiting for him if no one stepped in and showed him
that they cared.
So I took Nathan under my wing. My door was always open
to him and he frequently dropped by my office after
school just to talk. I really thought that I was
getting through to him. He would look at me with those
big brown eyes and my heart would melt. He seemed so
vulnerable and so sensitive. If I could have I would
have taken him home to live with my husband and me.
One of the many things that broke my heart about
Nathan's life was that he was always home alone. I
figured that if he had a parent at home he wouldn't be
spending so much time with boys that were going to get
him in trouble. We had talked about it and we both knew
that it was inevitable.
I knew it was wrong but every now and then, when my
husband was working late I would take Nathan out for
dinner. Usually that was just a hamburger and fries,
but sometimes we went out for a real meal. I had the
impression that he got entirely too few healthy meals
at home.
After several months I began to meet him at the library
to help him with his homework. I have to admit that the
feeling of satisfaction I derived from helping him was
nearly enough to make up for the lack of sexual
satisfaction in my life. Nearly.
I knew that I was stepping over the line but I was
convinced that it was for a good cause. I just knew
that when this was all over I would have done something
special. I would have saved a young man from a life of
poverty and criminal behavior.
I had been mentoring Nathan for months, much to the
dismay of my husband. He objected strongly to the time
I spent with "that young hoodlum." I had started out
being open and above board about it. However, the
constant warnings and the constant criticism from
Dennis had led me to stop mentioning Nathan and the
ways that I was helping him.
Actually I was feeling pretty smug about it. Despite my
husband's extreme Christian outlook on life he was not
one to help his fellow man or see people as equals
despite their differences. In fact, I was dismayed when
I finally came to the realization that he was a bigot!