So why me

It is 06h30pm, locked in his room, a 15-year-old teenager cannot believe that what is happening to him today is real. Sitting on his bed, unconsciously, in order to drive away the nervousness that overwhelms him, he never stops crushing the bottle of orange juice long ago emptied that he holds in his hand. Adam Clifford, has all kinds of reasons to feel so euphoric but also anxious and nervous tonight.

He would like this not to be the case, but he is well aware of the looks he receives at the High School and that his popularity rating does not exceed the ground level. A student with very average results, Adam joined the highly criticized journalism club. Both classical and popular students say that the people in this club are morons, who after being rejected from everywhere, had no choice but to fall back on what they all call, the garbage dumps. Adam would like to be able to reject this cruel statement, but his shyness prevents him from doing so and given that these shameful allegations are unfortunately true, he simply walks the corridors of his school daily with his head down.

Secretly, he always wanted to be able to be confident, like the handsome boys for whom everything is simple and to whom everything smiles. He has dreamed of it many, many times. Almost every night when he goes to bed, Adam fantasizes about it, wondering what he would start by doing if his face could be perfec. With his head buried in his pillow, aware that this pathetic dream will never come true., Adam nevertheless takes advantage of this rare moment of comfort to fall asleep with a large smile that only appears on his face at that time of the day.

Unfortunately, every morning, when Adam goes to the bathroom to wash himself, the dream ends abruptly so that his fantasies break on their own when he sees his reflection in the mirror. He doesn't really have an unpleasant face, but he doesn't attract attention. Worse, because of his lack of charisma, which is added to a lack of self-confidence, he goes completely unnoticed in the eyes of others.

Brown, brown eyes, smaller than most boys of his age, not very smiling, puny and pale, he reflects a sickly image that does not encourage anyone to go to him. Adam has always, as far as he can remember, been an extremely introverted boy. Since his first day of school, he has always been a victim, but he never played the role of the executioner. He is one of those people who do not have an ounce of wickedness in them and do not know the meaning of the word revenge or hate. At the High School, he receives many little blows and silly nicknames that hurt him more than he lets on. Never do the guys who hit him put too much force into it, however, with each blow received, it is his already almost non-existent ego, which bleeds.

Always in this altruistic perspective, on weekends as well as on many Friday nights, Adam wears more beautiful clothes than those he wears on ordinary days, then leaves home laughing. On Friday evenings and weekends, he doesn't join any parties, go to see any friends or meet any girlfriends over drinks or at the movies. During these weekend getaways, as he likes to say, he isolates himself in the solitude of a forest near his house and waits for the hours that have become days to pass. This family scam has been going on for over two years now. On weekends, lost in his thoughts, while he is depressed, Adam is sorry to be just a less than nothing who lies to his mother and to pretend to be what he will never be, a normal person with a social life.

His bottle is now in a sad state, nervously, he swallows his saliva again. It has been an hour since the phone call of the girl who makes all boys his age dream across the country, vibrated his smartphone. When he saw the unknown number on the screen, he thought it was a new joke from his schoolmates, but he replied anyway so as not to suffer their bad mood and the slaps he would get if he ignored it.

For the past hour, he, who is usually a very calm boy, has not been able to regain control of his emotions. His heart beats too fast, thinking back to the female voice that spoke a few words to him when he picked up the phone, but exceptionally he smiles tonight. These words, Adam, who is far from being a genius, cannot forget them.

"Adam Clifford, it's Jessica Benson. Listen carefully, lucky boy. From now on you're my boyfriend and I'll come by after my photo shoot so we can talk about it, so tidy up your room to welcome me properly. Bye."

After that she hung up, leaving Adam in shock. Jessica Benson, best student when they were in Middle School, hot blonde, beautiful light blue eyes, very tall, a dream body, model and actress at 15 years old and daughter of a rich and powerful industrialist. If after such a girl's statement to a guy like him didn't ask himself questions, it certainly wouldn't be the same Adam in this body.

"Adam, a young girl is coming to visit you. I'll send her up."

After his mother's scream, Adam's pale face turns red. He starts sweating with large drops as he hears noises of not coming from the stairs. Still sitting on his bed, tetanized, Adam sees his bedroom door open quickly, very quickly, so quickly, that it hits his bedroom wall, while a beautiful blonde girl with endless legs, partially hidden under a white miniskirt, enters and frowning.

"Is that what you call tidying up? Are you kidding me? What are you still doing on the bed looking at me like an idiot? You're waiting for me to join you, aren't you? Dream on, boy. Now, do me the pleasure of putting some order in this pigsty who is unworthy of me."

°°°°

On the same day, 05h25pm

"Lean a little further forward, Jessica. The customer wants these items to reflect the desire in the eyes of men."

The girl who was smiling just a moment ago is clenching her teeth. Her jaw contracts, her eyes wrinkle, then she picks up an element of the decoration. Surprising the whole team, when she straightens up, the young girl throws with rage the little green element towards the photographer who surprised by her action has no time to duck and receives it in the forehead.

"You made me open four of the buttons on that tasteless blouse and now you want me to bend over like that? I'm fifteen years old, I'll call you back and I don't accept charm pictures. If you want to play these kinds of games, you can contact my lawyers. Bye, Stephen."

The photographer rubs his forehead painfully. At the moment, he who simply wanted to do his job properly, feels a little aggrieved. However, considering the young lady who is already heading towards the dressing room at her disposal, he has no other option than to surrender.

"Sorry Jessica, I'll quickly call the customer and see what we can do about it, but please, stay there. Okay."

A glance that could kill is directed at the photographer. However, the latter don't lose his temper. He knows the young model very well in front of him. From experience, he knows that despite her many shortcomings, what she hates most is not finishing a job properly.

"You do that, but doesn't keep me waiting last three hours. I remind you, today I came to do you a favor, but I have a much more important life outside this shabby studio."

Indeed, Jessica is an authoritarian plague, too spoiled, aggressive, sometimes really unpleasant, coupled with a temperamental and moody kid, but basically he's a nice person, who has a good heart and she doesn't forget the people who helped her in the past. Stephen's not an idiot, he will not advise a legal recourse to the client. He would never make such a mistake. Behind this 15-year-old princess, it is not a lawyer who would be waiting for them, but an entire battalion, all from the best universities and the best firms all ready to dissect them and digest them in less time than it takes to say. A journalist wrote three years ago that this young lady was an industry in her own right. Although this statement was very exaggerated, however, insiders of the entertainment world could not deny these words by affirming the contrary.

Jessica is a very sought-after model but is not strictly speaking a top model. Her best-known campaign, of which you absolutely must not talk to her at the risk of getting slapped, remains the one for Diesel, of which she is still the muse. Last year, she was very upset when she saw the many online articles flattering, her (ass). Since then, pronouncing the jeans brand in her presence has meant facing her anger. A part-time actress, she has acted in eight films in the United States and two in Europe since she was seven years old. Model, Actress, are only two secondary occupations for her, the main one being advertising. Indeed, she travels the world for simple advertising campaigns, while she refuses roles in the cinema that could increase her notoriety in a more significant way.

As Jessica herself told an English journalist this year: "If I can't expose my image, I die." The sentence was said in these own words, the girl acknowledged, as a result of which, a lot of ink flowed. Some said that Jessica has an ego problem, others, on the contrary, that she lacks self-confidence and needs the recognition of as many people as possible to exist. In any case, once again, this simple sentence made her talk for a long time.

It wasn't the first time she made the buzz, because when she joined Diesel last year, caused a scandal just after the signing of her contract with the brand by affirming : "I love their jeans and with me to represent her, the firm will certainly sell twice as many."

Applause mixed with laughter and cries of indignation echoed from all sides. Her biggest success in this area remains the unforgettable : "Yes, American cinema is in trouble and it hurts me as a spectator to see so many bad films coming out one after the other. On the other hand, look at our actresses. They are bland, look silly and bring no added value to the productions. Let's be honest for once and face it. Someone like me, would change this situation, that's a certainty. Unfortunately, I'll soon be entering Middle School, so I can't be everywhere."

This remark coming from the mean mouth of a 10-year-old girl, on one of the main television channels at peak viewing time, was repeated the next morning by all the country's media, which were happy to add fire to the powder by going in the little girl's direction or protesting against these shameful and pretentious words.

05h30pm

Sitting on the seat that her staff always brings for her, her cheeks swollen, Jessica who is waiting to resume the photo session is bored. (driing driing) Her expression changes when she hears the ringer of her smartphone. She immediately grabs her bag and places it on her lap then begins to search it in search of the object that will make her pass the time. When a pink object is in sight, she quickly grabs it and carries it to her ear.

"This is Jessica Benson, who am I speaking to?"

"Not that ridiculous verse again, Jess. it's Kate. When are you going to start looking at your screen to see who's calling you?"

Jessica recognizes her best friend's voice, but she doesn't appreciate her reproachful tone. Without remorse, she takes the phone out of her ear and hangs up. (driing driing) With a smile, under the astonished eyes of the people present in the photo studio, Jessica lets six rings pass before answering.

"This is Jessica Benson, who am I speaking to?"

"Shit, Jess. Wait, don't hang up. I mean, it's Kate, your best friend who's also very happy to hear your voice."

This time satisfied, Jessica laughs low, which however does not escape her interlocutor who sighs exhausted by her friend always so childish. Despite her mental fatigue, she continues to speaks. "Jess, it's May 10th. So that means three months have passed since our bet and as I expected you lost darling."

Bet? 3 Months? Jessica tries to remember the bet in question but nothing comes back to her. Sometimes she makes bets herself in anger and they often ends in her loss because she forgets them the next moment but her best friend is happy to remind her of them when the date of the bet has expired. What did she bet this time? Going around her naked neighborhood at midnight? She already did it when they were 12. Drink ten tall glasses of her father's whiskey? already accomplished as well. Charming a female teacher? She did and her parents were summoned to the school. Jessica's digging her brains out, but she's not finding any potential leads. Once again, she begins to curse herself by thinking that, as often, she had to make this bet without thinking for a second and now she fears the words to come. Weakness is not part of her wide range of attitudes. Getting angry and screaming is not feminine, so she responds with a falsely relaxed voice.

"I don't remember very well, to tell you the truth. What was the bet and above all what is the pledge?"

A laugh that attacks Jessica's nerves welcomes her questions, which she knows are stupid. However, Kate is not allowed to laugh at her woes. When she is about to growl, her friend's answers, which arrive faster than expected, make her collapse on herself.

"You said in three months you'd finally have a boyfriend. I said it would never happen because you're far too difficult and it made you angry. As usual when you get into your little anger, you bet with me and the object of this pledge is called Adam Clifford. In your words of the time, if you didn't have a boyfriend in three months, then you'll make this creepy guy your boyfriend. Congratulations, sweetheart, you're not single anymore."

Jessica doesn't even listen to the name of the person quoted when the horror suddenly fell on her. When everything comes back to her, her eyes only express an immense loneliness, a cry for help that no one here can unfortunately decipher. It was one night in her own room. Kate doesn't lie, she said it orally by proudly inflating her chest. Jessica who now wants to slap herself can hear her pretentious words again.

"Guys are like dogs in front of me. All of them wagging their tails while waiting for a caress or a simple compliment. Three months will be more than enough time for me to find one that meets my requirements, which are not so exaggerated, by the way. I'm even going to go further to prove to you that you're talking nonsense. If in three months I am still single, it will prove that I am too difficult and therefore that you were right. However, I don't believe it for a second, but... Yes, but if that were to happen, I'd take Adam Clifford from the journalism club as my boyfriend."

At that moment, thinking back to the boy's name pronounced by her friend, her previous disgust disappears but she doesn't let anything appear.