Young Writers Society

Jo followed her parents into the spacious beach condo - manor, really. She looked around, and was not impressed. It looked like every other boring party she'd been dragged to on this stupid vacation, except this house was bigger.

"Bill, this is my oldest, Jocelyn," her father was saying. "Jocelyn, this is Bill Moyer, the founder of--" Jo had stopped listening. She just nodded and looked at the balding man with the little potbelly as her father continued to talk. Like she cared. This would be the only time she'd ever see the old guy anyhow.

"Nice to meet you," she said automatically, and shook his hand.

"Ah, she has your eyes, Larilee," Bill said jovially. "Aren't you a pretty young lady?"

Jo cracked the barest of smiles, thanked the man, and quickly extricated herself from her parents' presence, promising to catch up with them later. They hardly noticed, though; they were too busy mingling. Jo set a beeline for one of the many refreshment tables set up around the main entrance of the house. Food first, escape later.

Ruby

"This is the place," The pilot declared in a neutral, monotone voice.

"Really?" Topaz asked sarcastically as she rolled her eyes at her younger sister. Ruby smiled in return and thanked the pilot as they were escorted off the private jet by their flight attendant Joey.

"Goodbye girls. We'll be here when you're ready to return," Joey called.

"How about now?" Topaz called back, only half joking.

"Come on Topaz, maybe we'll find some guys to talk to."

"Who aren't bald and over fifty?" Topaz raised an eyebrow as she stared at all the adults who were drinking and socialising.

"Let's at least get some food, I'm starving."