The cold wind whipped across the lush landscape the only response being the dancing of the oak trees and the quivering of the bushes and grass. Joslyn Jayne Park adjusted the flash on her camera, making the bright light diminish into a soft dim. She crouched down low, her khaki-clad bottom nearly touching the prickly grass. She snapped the photo with a press of the glassy black button, biting her lip at the impressive click it made as a masterpiece was formed. One out of many of her cameras, the Canon© Megapixel Digital SLR Camera took pictures brilliantly, every scene that Joslyn snapped turning into a work of art. The impressive camera had cost her seven-thousand dollars and it was worth every penny. She stood up in Mrs. Hallstead’s yard, quickly captured a billowing leafy tree and spun towards the house. She took the porch steps two at a time, gently scooping up the camera bag as she passed, which held memory cards that stored over five hundred pictures of Mrs. Hallstead’s family, their sprawling backyard, and their Rottweiler, Hardy. She opened the large back door, walked inside the kitchen, and waved good-bye to their cook, a stout woman named Clara. She wondered around, looking for Mrs. Hallstead or her husband, and finally found the woman chattering on her mobile in the office.
Mrs. Hallstead was a thin woman, with a tall frame and a muscular body. She somewhat resembled a giraffe, not in relation to her neck, but more so to her tendency to move around slowly and cautiously, as if she was on stilts. Mrs. Hallstead was decent looking, with wavy (probably dyed) blond hair and fierce blue eyes. Mrs. Hallstead had her cell phone pressed to her ear and she was waving her other arm around frantically. “Oh Monique, she takes the best pictures, I swear if she was older I’d hire her to follow us around and snap action shots. . .” After a short pause, she insisted, “Certainly, Monique! I swear you’ll love her! She’s brills, Mon, but listen I’ve got to run. I’ve got a massage. Oh of course you can come, Mon! Alright, meet you there! Bye-bye!” Valerie Hallstead closed her phone with a plink, and she instantly stared down at Joslyn, who was somewhat shorter than her. “Hello dear, wonderful pictures! Listen, my friend Monique Burns wants to take pictures with you on the fifteenth at seven. That’s in two days, dear. She has four kids, Stanton, Preston, Johan, and Jonah. They’re cute kids, I promise. Can you be there?” Slowly, Joslyn nodded, hoping to end the conversation as quickly as possible. “Wonderful, dear,” Mrs. Hallstead gushed, and then asked, “What do you need?”
“I’m finished, Mrs. Hallstead,” Joslyn said, exhaling swiftly. “I need my sitting fee money, and I’ll get you your pictures by next week.” The rest of the discussion involved one ‘wonderful’, three ‘fabulous’, and four ‘dears’, plus a much-needed three hundred and fifty dollar check. Needless to say Joslyn was glad when she finally climbed into her two-door cobalt blue Jeep and drove over to Scarlett Skye Bruins home. Scarlett Skye Bruins was her best friend, her favorite manicurist, and her most valuable possession, because she was after all, priceless. Scarlett Skye Bruins was not a hippie, but her mother (Rain Shine, although in reality it was Reagan Shines) had gone through that phase when it was hot, had Scarlett Skye, and then dumped her with her non-hippie businessman father, Angelo Bruins. Angelo had remarried to a blond bombshell, had five more kids, and let Scarlett Skye call herself whatever she wanted. Despite its hippie-esque manner, she stayed Scarlett Skye, which came in handy during her modeling shoots, because Scarlett Skye was about as unusual as you got model-wise. You were normally stuck with names like Brittany, Ashley, and (more embarrassingly) Paris. To say that Scarlett Skye Bruins was beautiful would be an understatement, because she was more than just a pretty face. She was made to model, it was if she was created for that specific purpose, like Cupid himself had seen Angelo Bruins and Rain Shine and said; ‘Well, I’ll be, they’d make a gorgeous model-baby’ and zing shot his love-arrows straight at Angelo and Rain’s butts. Scarlett (which is what she preferred, although most adults called her Scarlett Skye still) had hair like rain, it fell in a wavy blond sheet down her back, all the way to her very-small bottom. She was tall as well, although not like coltish Mrs. Hallstead, because Scarlett was graceful, with legs that stretched on forever in a long tan line. She had incredible eyes the color of crystal blue, so clear and sparkled it was like she cleaned them in a bottle of alcohol every day. She was thin too, only weighing in at ninety-five pounds even though she was eighteen years old. Joslyn, on the other hand, weighed five pounds more (although that was strictly muscle) and was an inch shorter. They were a striking pair, Scarlett Skye at five-foot-ten with all that hair and Joslyn Jayne at five-foot nine with her golden blond hair that hung to her mid-back, although hers was straight. They looked like sisters, although Joslyn always said that Scarlett was the pretty one, although she herself was a sight. Joslyn had great eyes too, but hers were a stony gray with a sleepy-alertness to them that caught you off guard. They’d been best friends since Pre-K.
Although Scarlett at the age of six decided to model, Joslyn had always chosen swimming and cheerleading. Nothing was better than diving into a crisp blue pool and swimming so many laps that your arms ached and your head spun and all you saw was the wall ahead of you. Quite honestly though, Joslyn was addicted to cheering as well, she strictly did competition, and she loved it. She was the lightest one on the team, the one that was thrown up in every single stunt, the one in the middle of the cluster of stunts, and the one who perfected the most intricate tumbles. Between cheering and swimming, Joslyn’s schedule was packed tight. In sixth grade, she got into photography, although she only took pictures for family photos and occasionally caught a few on vacation. It was a hobby, not an after-school activity or sport, though she enjoyed it. A lot of pride came from being able to collect a memory forever; a quivering landscape, a laugh that rumbled off the walls, a smile that filled someone’s whole face; that was wonderful. She lived for that too.
Joslyn drove dutifully to Scarlett Skye’s house, keeping her eyes on the road although her thoughts kept traveling somewhere else. Her life was busy, she knew, as she ran through the list of things to do. Pictures with the Burns, download Mrs. Hallstead’s pictures and erase them off the memory card, buy new goggles (speedo only), buy new laces for cheer shoes, practice routine, go over to Scarlett’s for a sleepover on Friday, meet Thayer for lunch at Subway on Thursday, eat dinner with the family on Sunday night, swim practice tomorrow (Wednesday). So many thought clustered in her brain that barely focused on where she was going, or why. She knew that Scarlett wanted her over for obvious reasons, but Scar’s voice had seemed a little urgent on the phone, and even a tad irritated that she couldn’t drop what she was doing and just come over already! She sighed with relief as she pulled into Scarlett’s massive driveway, parking behind a Corvette, a Porsche, a Lamborghini, and a Cadillac. Joslyn hurried inside, rushed upstairs to Scarlett’s room, and threw open the door with a boom.
Scarlett’s room was a sight. It was designed by her stepmother who was an interior designer, and Scarlett loved it with all her might (although she claimed she couldn’t stand her stepmother). It was huge, that was certain, the room shaped like a large rectangle, with little squares jutting out for the bathroom and closets. On one wall it had just windows, giving Scar a fantastic view of the backyard and its many notable features which included an enormous pool/hot tub, a basketball court for Scarlett’s half-brothers, and a zip line that was strung between two lofty oaks. The opposite wall had only ten floor-to-ceiling pictures on it, spaced about a two feet apart, and at least ten feet tall. The pictures were of Scarlett and her best modeling gigs, the first a Teen Vogue shoot at age eleven where she posed with striped Vans on her feet, the second an actual Vogue picture of her in a long, elegant dress, and so on and so forth until Joslyn’s personal favorite, one of Scarlett on the beach, her thin bod dressed in a lime green Roxy bikini and matching sunglasses, her nails painted the exact shade of green. She was sixteen in the picture and she was blowing a kiss at the camera, her clear-blue eyes making the whole picture breath-taking. Joslyn’s favorite part was that she had taken the picture and the editors of Teen People liked it so much they printed it on the front cover of the magazine. Scarlett’s bed was white, king-sized, and made up in a black and white striped comforter with a white with black polka dots sheet. Her whole room was black, white, hot pink, lime green, neon blue, blazing orange and electric yellow, the bright colors mostly expressed by the splatter paint on the wall opposite her bed or the fluffy pillows that were stacked on her couch and bed. There were a couple of rugs in those colors too, and the bathroom showed the explosion as well. On the wall opposite her bed was the ‘living room’ as Scarlett called it, with its two white couches, the seventy inch flat screen, and the mini fridge stocked with sodas, snacks, and Jell-O, Scar’s main vice. Despite the fact that she was a model, Scarlett Skye had never once starved herself, always eating the most out of anyone. She had the fastest metabolism Joslyn had ever seen and wished she had. Scarlett’s bathroom was gorgeous, modern, and brightly dressed as well, but the oddest thing was her second closet. She used her first one for her millions of clothes and the second, simply because it was enormous enough, as her hide out. It housed her desk; the wall covered in posters, pictures, and medals, a Mac, a large armoire filled with trophies, and several dazzling bean bags. From the ceiling hung vivid paper lanterns in all colors, making the room cozy and intense. Joslyn envied Scarlett’s room so much that once, when they were in third grade, she stayed there for a week. Thankfully her parents had left her with a slacker babysitter so they had no idea, or else she would’ve been fried. Her parents were extreme.
Mr. Park was a gym coach at Joslyn’s high school, most unfortunately. He taught all of the outdoor activities, ranging from soccer to ultimate Frisbee. It pained Joslyn every time she had to trudge outside, onto the flourishing green field, and see her father in his silky basketball shorts he purchased at Dick’s Sporting Goods. He often embarrassed Joslyn, although few students actually put it together; that he was her father and she was his daughter, which was all the better. He wore black framed aviator glasses, constantly had a stern expression on his face, and always had a cinnamon toothpick stuck between his teeth. At home, he was completely different, all laughs and no glasses, with contacts instead. He was smiley too, his white teeth showing the whole time and he never chomped on those ridiculous toothpicks. Mrs. Park was a balmy woman, or as Mr. Park constantly droned a boring woman. She was mild and gentle, with haggard looking brunette hair and weary dark eyes. She liked to go to the club, all done up, and play Hand and Foot with her friends. She thought photography was a waste of time and only bought Joslyn the cheapest camera on the market. The only thing her parents agreed on was that she and her sisters, Piper and Ivy, needed the best grades out of anyone at their schools. Joslyn was a senior at Ridgewood Prep and Piper and Ivy were in sixth and eighth, respectively, at Oakley Academy. Joslyn was pushed to be her best, forced to swim more than she needed to, and discouraged from photography, which (according to her parents) would get her nowhere. Piper was the good child, who joined student council and was on the basketball team, while Ivy was the rebel, always slacking off on her grades (B’s were not acceptable) and only did gymnastics (another waste of time). Sometimes, Joslyn just wanted her family to be normal.
Joslyn stepped in the room to find Scarlett curled up on her bed, her luminous face streaked with the remnants of tears. Her blonde hair was piled haphazardly on top of her head and her eyes were puffy and bloodshot. She wore a black spaghetti-strap tank top and a pair of denim short shorts, her feet clothed in knee-high shock-red socks. She sat up abruptly on her king-sized bed, stared at Joslyn for a second, and then beckoned her over. Joslyn walked over, calm as can be, and sat on the bed next to Scarlett who looked like she was about to burst into tears. “Oh, Jossy, I’m so glad you’re here!” Scarlett wept, calling her the name that only Scarlett used. Although some called her Joss, Scarlett was the only one to call her Jossy. Joslyn gently wrapped her arms around Scarlett and patted her ever-so –lightly on her back while Scar sobbed. “Oh, Jossy,” Scarlett cried again, sniffling and running a small, dainty hand through her hair. “Jossy!” she yelled, her voice cracking and Joslyn stood up, pulling Scarlett up with her. She struggled as Scarlett only wanted to slump back down, finally just hefting Scarlett up on her back. Joslyn walked, with Scar on piggy-back, to Scarlett’s bathroom, where she plunked Scarlett down on a comfy chaise. Joslyn rummaged through Scarlett’s drawers until she found a brush, then she took Scarlett’s hair down and brushed through it until it was soft and fell smoothly down her back. Joslyn dabbed at Scarlett’s face with a Kleenex and applied eye shadow on her lids. Then, she swooped a lip wand across Scarlett’s pouty lips and dusted glitter across her cheeks, until she practically glowed. Joslyn tugged on Scarlett’s arm, causing her to stand up, still slouchy, and led her to her ‘living room’. Joslyn sat across from her on the white couch, and then stared at her with a look she had learned to mimic from her father. Her eyebrows knit together, her eyes narrowed, and her lips pouched out, which made her look like and angry turtle. Scarlett stifled laughter, and then quickly covered her mouth.
“Scarlett? What’s wrong this time?” Joslyn inquired, with that same faux-angry face. She was used to Scarlett Skye Bruins and her temper tantrums, not to mention her unbelievable knack for crying over the dumbest things that even she realized were stupid after she came to her senses. Scarlett rested on the couch, closing her eyes as if she couldn’t remember why she’d been upset. Joslyn racked her brain for the reasoning behind Scar’s fit, only coming to the conclusion that she hadn’t gotten picked for a modeling shoot. Joss bit her lip, a habit she had formed who-knows-when, and peered at Scarlett, who was lost in her own thoughts. Joslyn stared out the window at the pool, wanting nothing more than to change into one of Scarlett’s many bikinis and jump into the cool water. Maybe after she got Scar to calm down, they’d go swimming. Before Scarlett had time to say anything though, her door opened with a boom, and there stood her father and step-mother.
Angelo Bruins was a lawyer for such athletes as Michael Jordan and Kobe Bryant, he was that swift. He was deceiving and clever, with a face to go with it. His black curls were normally cut very short and slicked back with a dot of gel. His eyes were dark and piercing and his lips were pursed as if he was forever thinking about something severe. He was a tall man, with broad shoulders, and a flat stomach, which was how he’d gotten his first and second wives. His first, Scarlett Skye’s mother, Rain, was in love with him because he was a rebellious twenty-three year old man that said ‘forget the man, I do my own thing’. Only later did she learn the Angelo’s ‘man’ was his father, a doctor, who had wanted him to follow in his footsteps and become a surgeon. Angelo was a businessman, Rain learned, and disliked him for it. After giving birth to his child, she left with a hippie named Spruce Oaky (really Bruce Samuels) and left Angelo with Scarlett. Angelo remarried two-years-later to Zara Stone, and they’d popped out five kids since. The oldest being twelve and the youngest only four, Scarlett Skye didn’t like any of them and they weren’t fond of her either. Angelo burst into the room in his suit, as if he was about to go to a meeting. Joslyn glanced at her watched. It was only 10:45, he must be leaving soon, she thought with relief. Angelo was far too harsh and grim for her taste. Zara Stone stood next to him, in a mini-skirt and tight tank top, looking smug. She was five years younger than Angelo and had fallen in love with him for his looks and money. Zara smacked her gum as Angelo scoffed, looking angry.
“God, Scarlett, get over it. You’re such a baby for overreacting like this!” Angelo barked stalking over to where Scarlett Skye was lounging. Zara followed, her high heels clacking against the hardwood flooring. Joss flinched at his cruel words, but Scarlett looked unbothered. She hunched forward slightly and glanced up at her father, who plopped down stiffly on the couch opposite theirs. Zara collapsed with him and she smiled at Scarlett. Finally, by some act of relief, Scarlett spoke.
“I’m overreacting? My forty-one year old father and his thirty-six year old wife are pregnant once again and with twins this time!” Scarlett’s voice rolled on the walls and lingered in the air like cigarette smoke. She put extra emphasis on the ages, causing both Angelo and Zara to flinch. Sitting up straight she glared at Zara. “And you!” She yelled, rolling her eyes at Zara’s expression, “I thought you were getting fatter! I mean really! Five months pregnant, Jossy, and they tell me now!” She smacked Joss’ arm, hard and quick. Joslyn wacked her back and they held back laughter. Joslyn went stone-still as Angelo glowered, looking at them both with daggers in his eyes. This somewhat reminded her of the time in fifth grade when she and Scarlett had bedazzled all of his belts, shoes, and ties. That had been fun while it lasted, but when Angelo got home, they were both sent to Scarlett’s room without any of the double chocolate cake that their cook, Anya, had baked. At eleven, Scarlett was sly and had even attempted to blame it on her then five year old brother Michelangelo, but that had been foiled when her father had found the initials SSB and JJP = BFF on a pair of his boots. Even then, though, Joslyn realized he’d never been this mad.
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"Oh, Scar-Lot,” Zara drawled, her voice tinged with what remained of her British accent that she acquired in the five years she had lived there. “Please, realize, we luff you either way, no matter how many siblings you have,” Zara said, trying to comfort her, “We’ll always luff you dah-ling.” Scarlett opened her mouth wide and jabbed her pointer finger towards her throat and in an un-lady like way she fake vomited. Angelo rose from the couch with fire in his eyes, pulling Zara up with him.
“Come along, Zara, we needn’t waste our time on her,” Angelo said in his gruff voice, his face turning bright red as Scarlett still falsely retched. He was almost out the door when Scarlett spoke in a relieved voice.
“Finally, they’re leaving,” Scarlett said a little too loudly, and Angelo stormed back in and pointed his finger at Scarlett.
“That’s IT!” He mustered and shouted, “Four weeks, Scarlett, and you’re out of here! The end of school comes and you have to move out!” A wave of concern washed over Scarlett’s face, but she quickly covered it with an expression of joy. Angelo, confused, looked as if he wanted her to get down on her knees and beg to stay.
“Woo-hoo! I’ve been wanting to leave this place since we got here!” Scarlett enthused and Angelo, looking flustered, left immediately. As soon as they did, Scarlett turned to Joss with pleading eyes and said in her sweetest voice, “Can you drive me to Gianni’s?”
Definitely keep writing, and post more! PM me if you do 
