Jonah Windstrom had always left me alone. I mean, I knew the boy for what, five years, and he never said one word to me. Until my senior year. That year, he decided to make it his mission to make my life a personal hell at the Goodwin Academy of the Arts. I kept counting the days to graduation, when I would (hopefully) become an actress and he would be out of my life forever. Unfortunately, my patience wore thin, and like ice on a lake, it snapped. I insulted him and he insulted me and one thing lead to another and somehow it ended up as a bet. But not just any bet. Oh no. A ten year bet. Yes, you read that right. Ten years. The prize? Whatever the winner wanted. It could have been anything from a slice of pizza to a year of servitude. What did we have to do? Basically, I had to win the Academy Award for Best Actress before he wore the #10 jersey for America and won the FIFA World Cup for soccer. Or else I was doomed. My name is Jennifer Jakobson and this is my story. Or messed up life driven by the sole need to bring the idiot known as Jonah Windstrom because he was a spoiled, stuck-up brat. You know, whichever you prefer.