13 The women's war

Friday, April 11, 2014

07:40pm

In the living room, a little repelled by the smell of her boyfriend, Jessica makes a superhuman effort to get close to him. She puts her mouth near her ear, then directs her mocking eyes to Mrs. Clifford who grinds her teeth.

"Adam, I left my keys at home, do you think I can sleep with you tonight? I know you have a single bed, but don't worry, I'll hug you all night long."

"Sleep with you. Sleep with you. Sleep with you." These are only three simple words spoken in English and yet, for some reason, Adam, whose spirit floats several miles above the ground, finds them to be the most beautiful words he has ever heard. Adam is certainly a sick introvert, but he is still a healthy 15-year-old teenager whose flourishing imagination is currently overflowing his brain with images as splendid as they are exotic.

When forced to come down to earth by an intense discomfort that accumulates in his lower abdomen, Adam, whose arched suit pants don't hide much, quickly finds himself confronted with two pairs of inquisitive eyes. Demonstrating a rare alertness of mind to get out of this bad step, he turns to Jessica who is already more than 16ft away from him and who, very embarrassed, hides her eyes with her hand.

The girl often plays the grown-up role, however, she is just as pure as Adam and in front of the big hump that her boyfriend offers her as a meal, she blushes, then runs away into the kitchen, under the laughter of a Mrs Clifford very happy to see the ringworm so uncomfortable. Nevertheless, she only laughs for a moment and when she turns around to her obsessed son, who has the natural gift to shame her, her expression becomes much less pleasant.

"So this is how my son behaves outside the house? Hide this and go take a shower, you smell worse than a goate."

As Adam, who covers the object of the crime, prepares to leave the dining room under the reproving gaze of his mother, from the kitchen, an urgent voice reaches his ears. "Yes, take a shower, Adam, because I remind you that we have a party and I won't take you away under these conditions."

At an age when boys' brains are full of various love fantasies, their hormones are on fire and their underwear seem too much to them. On the girls' side, except for the underwear, it's not so different. In the kitchen, sitting quietly in a chair, the one who usually can neither close her mouth nor stay in place, is currently experiencing it bitterly. What a damn bump of pants, she thinks, both angry and very interested, not being able to get the image out of her eyes.

Until now, she had never really thought about it. Jessica had always fully focused on her multiple activities and work and apart from her best friend, her professional and family contacts, her social life was not so rich. As for her love life, it was a void, but she didn't think much about it.

As if to annoy her a little more, a cruel woman enters the kitchen. After opening the fridge and taking a bottle of soda, she turns to Jessica. Chuckling, Mrs. Clifford shakes her hand in front of her face and then exhales.

"It's so hot, don't you think it's, little pest? The happiest of us is certainly my big boy who at the moment has probably taken off all his clothes and is relaxing with a good shower, which I am sure will relieve him of all the emotions he has experienced today. Well, it's not all that, but I still have to prepare the meal for my big boy in great shape. I'm not inviting you to stay because tonight I was planning to make lamb, but I suddenly changed my mind and finally, I really want to make pork."

Jessica watches this bad woman laughing low and turning her back on her. When Jessica gets up from her chair, her face extremely determined, she swears she won't lose in front of her. Jessica starts smiling as she takes her pink smartphone out of her pocket. In front of Mrs. Clifford's inquiring eyes, she slowly dials a number, then she approaches her smartphone to her ear.

"Yes, it's Miss Benson. Tell the cook to prepare 2 portions of the meal prepared for tonight and have them delivered to 28 XXXX XX in Cheirfield. Yes, of course, that foie gras for the first portion will be fine, however, for me it will be a tomato salad with scallops as a starter, thank you."

"Bitch"

"Bon appétit with your pig. You lost again."

Mrs. Clifford looks at the back of the plague, which withdraws laughing and swears that one day her body will be buried in the garden. When she thinks about it a second time, she shakes her head. She went to great lengths to make this garden what it is today and it would be a victory in her death to destroy the fruit of her efforts to bury the plague there.

Adam in his shower fears that the two women left alone downstairs are not able to contain themselves and jump to each other's throats while he takes a shower. He would like to go faster, unfortunately this smell is particularly tenacious and Adam may rub, but it has trouble disappearing. Tonight his mind is cluttered with many thoughts. The fight of the 2 furies worries him, but that's not all.

Adam has never socialized with anyone and he sees this party as a kind of insurmountable step to take. Chasing away this already terrifying vision, another much worse one immediately replaces it. For the last two days, Jessica walked him here and there. There were no dead times, so he didn't have a moment to think about it, but the deadline is getting closer and when he went to his room, he couldn't avoid his gaze from landing on his suitcase prepared entirely by Jessica. His heart is racing and his mouth is drying up at the thought of leaving his city, his country and everything he knows to cross an ocean full of danger, without even knowing what awaits him on the other side. In reality Adam is terrified, but he also knows that as long as he does not leave his small comfort zone, his personality will never change, certainly significantly hindering his future personal development.

08h10pm

"A little more Bresse Poultry Supreme with white wine and morel mushrooms, my Adam?"

"How about some spaghetti pork, darling?"

"A little squeezed peach juice this morning, my handsome boyfriend?"

"Do you want your favorite orange juice, my little boy?"

It's not 8:30, but Adam's sick of it. These two women are wearing him out. They go so far as to feed him personally in turn. He has an unbearable stomach pain after eating two full plates and they start again. Adam opens his mouth to talk but already two forks are slipping inside.

"Thief, he's my boyfriend."

"I carried it in my belly for nine months, so when you will be able to look at a man without blushing, we'll talk about it again, little girl."