Over the spanse of only a few months, Catherina had become an obsession for Jack.

She was different from the other girls--perhaps it was the way she wore her perfume, or her confident swagger, or the silkiness of her long hair. Perhaps it was the deepness to her voice, that added maturity and intelligence. Perhaps it was her vague answers, her sun-kissed skin, or her come-hither stare. Whatever she had, it was clear the other girls did not have it.

The other students weren't stupid, they noticed the way Jack lingered at Catherina's desk when passing out papers, or how she would always accidentally drop something and brush against his hips. They saw his blush and her lip-bites. They half-hated, half-worshipped Catherina. She wasn't incredibly gorgeous, there were prettier girls in that class. But it was extremely clear that Catherina held something in her palm, under her loosely buttoned shirt that stretched over the sloping curve of her chest, and in between her long and willowy legs--she just had something that other people didn't.

At least, she had something that Jack wanted.