Young Writers Society

CHAPTER ONE

“Tanya!” Mom shouted from upstairs, “Tanya! Are you ready?”

“Yes, I mean, no!” I yelled back, and I could hear mom groan from her room.

I swiftly grabbed the chips off the kitchen counter. Food, clothes, and various papers were strewn about the kitchen. The white counters were covered by passports, bills, and my dads’ work papers. I stuffed the chips into my bag and returned to the entryway.

The sound of my parents walking down the stairs echoed through the room and catches my attention. I turn around to see Dad walking down the stairs, carrying mom’s suitcase. Mom was following closely behind him.

“Ready to go?” Mom said, touching up her hair. She stopped to look in the mirror and applied another layer of lipstick. Just by looking at mom, you can tell why dad married her. She isn’t the most intelligent of people, but she is beautiful and makes a good stay-at-home mom. She always had to look perfect, from her head to her toes. Today, her dress and accessories were probably worth $200, and that doesn’t count her shoes.

“Yup! My bags in the car.” I replied, moving towards dad. Mom mumbled something about how it was “yes” and not “yup” while I asked dad, “Why can’t you come?”

“I told you hun,” Dad patted my head, “I have to work. Baron Business Center isn’t going to run itself!”

I nodded and opened the front door. My dad was given the BBC by his father when he retired. Dad worked long hours and went on multiple long business trips a year, but apparently that’s part of being a CEO.

“Bye James,” Mom kissed dad on the cheek and hugged him.

“See you soon,” Dad pulled out of the hug and handed mom her bag. She opened the front door and motioned for me to go to the car. I walked down the asphalt driveway and entered the passenger seat of mom’s sedan.

I fling my carry-on bag behind me and wait for mom to enter the car. She and dad hug one more time, then she starts moving to the car. Dad calls after her to call him when we arrive and she gives him a thumbs up.

She opens the door and sets her purse in between the seats. Mom throws her bag next to mine and starts the car.

“Let the adventure begin!” She exclaims, “Hopefully we don’t miss the plane.”

As mom pulled out of the driveway, I waved to dad and asked, “What type of plane is it?”

“It’s some old private jet,” the car turned a corner, “Fits about ten people.”

“And why are we taking it across the ocean?” I opened my chips.

“Normal airplanes are nasty, even first class. There’s no legroom.”

xXx

“We’re going to be late!” Mom said as we dashed through the airport.

“Maybe it’s because we stopped for Starbucks,” I mumbled, but mom didn’t hear me.

“There’s Terminal C!” We turned and came to a stop. The airport windows let plenty of light in, nearly blinding us. Through the sunlight, I can see a white and gold plane. It looks as if it couldn’t even carry two people, let alone ten. The exterior is aged and paint is flaking off.

“Mom, that plane looks like sh*t.” I said, “There’s metal about to fall right off!”

“Don’t say that word! It looks fine.” Mom replied, walking to the ticket lady. She quickly scanned our tickets and rushed us to the plane. We entered it, which seemed to be straight out of the 1970s: stained red carpet, cringe-worthy furniture, and the only stewardess is dressed in hideous colors.

The only perk was that the seats were facing each other, like booths at a restaurant. I take a seat across from mom and buckle the seat belt.

“Isn’t this neat?” Mom grinned, “This is what planes were like when I was your age. At 14, I had been on only one plane, but it was fantastic. Look! There’s a table!”

Mom shook the table as if to show it off to me.

“Cool, mom,” I said, looking out the window, “How long is this trip?”

“The plane ride is six and a half hours, then our stay in Greece two weeks. I can’t wait!” Mom was smiling from ear to ear, “I can’t believe Janice is getting married! Oh, I remember when she was little, and you were just a baby. You both were just so cute.”

“Apparently. I can’t remember anything until I was 7, so I guess she was 17 then.” I pulled my hood over my head as the plane taxied to the runway, “I’m going to take a nap, wake me up when we get there.”

“Goodnight, dear,”