Writing Prompt

After a big fight on Christmas Eve, Lola and her boyfriend Eric decided to break up with each other, but then they got snowed in and they are stuck in the same house while being broken up and still fighting 

In a twist of fate, three characters who despised each other found themselves embarking on an outrageous holiday together. It all began when a travel agency mistakenly booked the same vacation package for them, unaware of the deep-rooted animosity that existed between the trio.

First, there was Lucy, a witty and sarcastic woman with a penchant for causing mischief. Her sharp tongue and quick wit often left others outraged and offended. Then there was Max, a gruff and no-nonsense businessman who had a talent for rubbing people the wrong way with his blunt honesty. Lastly, there was Emily, a dramatic and attention-seeking actress who thrived on creating chaos wherever she went.

As they arrived at the tropical resort, tension hung thick in the air. Each character was determined to make the holiday as unpleasant as possible for the others. They engaged in a series of outrageous pranks and petty arguments, each trying to outdo the other in their quest for dominance.

Lucy, known for her mischievous nature, filled Max’s suitcase with sand while he was out. Max retaliated by secretly replacing Emily’s sunscreen with mayonnaise, leaving her with a hilarious sunburn. Emily, in her dramatic fashion, staged a fake kidnapping to frighten Lucy, only to reveal it was all a ruse later.

The situations that unfolded were both funny and dramatic, leaving the trio in a constant state of chaos. They found themselves in absurd predicaments, such as getting stuck in a zipline mishap or accidentally swimming with a group of mischievous dolphins that seemed to take great joy in splashing them relentlessly.

As the holiday progressed, however, a strange thing happened. Amidst the outrageous pranks and dramatic outbursts, the characters began to see glimpses of each other’s vulnerabilities and hidden depths. They discovered that behind Lucy’s sharp tongue was a heart that cared deeply for her loved ones. Behind Max’s gruff exterior was a man burdened by his own insecurities. And behind Emily’s attention-seeking antics was a woman yearning for genuine connection.

Slowly but surely, their animosity transformed into a begrudging respect for one another. They found themselves laughing together, sharing stories, and even offering support during unexpected moments of vulnerability. Their differences became a source of amusement rather than irritation.

On the final day of their holiday, as they lounged by the pool, a realization washed over them. Despite their initial hatred and the outrageous situations they had endured, they had formed an unexpected bond. They had learned to appreciate each other’s quirks and accept their flaws.

With a newfound sense of camaraderie, they toasted to their outrageous holiday, laughing at the absurdity of it all. They realized that sometimes, the most unexpected friendships could be forged in the most outrageous circumstances.

As they bid farewell to the tropical resort, the characters left with a mix of fond memories and relief. They knew that their paths might never cross again, but the lessons learned and the laughter shared during their holiday would forever remain a testament to the power of unlikely friendships and the ability to find humor in the most outrageous situations.

Chapter 1

Colonel Hogan’s words kept running through his mind as the train rolled along the tracks. He was headed back to Stalag 13 after a very unsuccessful escape. He glanced across at Colonel Klink, who looked nervous and smug at the same time. And why not? His escape had been thwarted so Klink’s no-escape record remained intact. He then glanced at the third man in the car, a certain Major Hochstetter. The Major was from the Gestapo and was the one who caught him just outside Hammelburg.

He coughed but tried to hold it in. Both of the German officers looked at him.

“What? A mate can’t cough when ‘e’s got a touch of the flu?” Newkirk asked innocently.

Hochstetter scowled. Klink looked out the window.

Newkirk returned to his view out the window. Colonel Hogan’s words came through his mind again. The man had been Senior Prisoner of War for not yet a month, and he already had practically the entire Stalag under his thumb, but not Newkirk. Peter Newkirk wasn’t one to listen his supposed superiors… unless they had earned his trust. He watched Hogan breeze in and take over, suddenly instituting a ridiculous no-escape plan.

Newkirk wouldn’t have any of it. He had been a prisoner for about a year and all he wanted was to get out. Either go back to London or back to fighting, but sitting on his arse wasn’t part of his plan. Sure, Colonel Hogan ordered him to cancel his escape and he hadn’t listened, despite having a horrible chest cold. How badly he wanted a cigarette right then, but Hochstetter had insisted he be chained, hands and feet. He couldn’t reach his mouth if he wanted to.

Newkirk let out a somewhat shaky breath. He was indeed a miserable sight. Since he couldn’t reach his mouth, he couldn’t reach his nose with his handkerchief. He could feel his nose running. His pursed lips kept it from running straight down but still…

Newkirk sneezed hard, jerking forward. Hochstetter immediately reached for his gun.

Klink came to the rescue. “Major, it was just a sneeze. Corporal Newkirk has been dealing with a nasty chest cold. I saw the Medic’s report myself.”

Hochstetter holstered his gun. “Very well, then.” He sneered for all to see.

Suddenly, the train screeched to a halt.

“What’s happening?” Klink whimpered. He was about to continue when Hochstetter glared.

“I hear rumbling,” Hochstetter stated.

Newkirk’s brow lifted. Colonel Hogan had mentioned a mission to blow up a bridge and the train with it. He then realized he was on the train Hogan had mentioned. Well, at least it wasn’t blown up…

Clacking noises were suddenly heard to one side of the train. The three men looked out the window to see millions of small rocks sliding down the hillside, landing against the side of the train. The train would not be moving anytime soon.

Hochstetter growled. “I knew we should have confiscated a car.”

Klink wavered. “But, Sir, you said the train would be quicker after I suggested a car—“

“Shut up, Klink!” Hochstetter roared.

Klink did as told, pressing his lips together tightly.

Just when Newkirk thought things couldn’t get worse, the lights went off in the car, plunging them into darkness.

Hochstetter groaned. “Clearly we aren’t getting anywhere tonight. We passed a house about half a mile back. We’ll go there for tonight.” He glared at Newkirk, even though it was dark. “No funny business from you, Corporal.”

Newkirk opened his mouth to respond but all he did was cough.

Hochstetter made an irritated noise and stood. “Klink, get the prisoner and lets go.”

Klink took Newkirk’s arm and pulled, though not too hard. Klink didn’t want to hurt him.

The trio stepped out into the cold night. The freezing air set Newkirk off on a whole new coughing fit, which Hochstetter did his best to ignore. Klink frowned, knowing the young Corporal’s inability to avoid illness.

As they walked, the only sound was Newkirk’s coughing. He had briefly wondered if Colonel Hogan had known he was on the train or simply didn’t want to risk blowing it up without knowing. For that matter, why would Colonel Hogan even spare him? He’d gone against his orders…

“All right, get him inside,” Hochstetter said, holding a door open.

Newkirk was surprised they were there already. He supposed he had distracted himself between his coughing and thinking about the Colonel’s orders.

Klink pushed the Brit inside as Hochstetter found the lights. The house was small and hadn’t seemed abandoned but it’s interior proved otherwise. It looked like it had been ignored for likely a year or so. The inside was dirty and paint was beginning to peel.

Newkirk sneezed as the dust invaded his already irritated sinuses. They found a living room and Klink settled him on a couch. Klink crouched to open the shackles.

“What are you doing, Klink?!” Hochstetter roared.

Klink froze and whimpered. “I wanted to remove the shackles…”

“I can see that! Why would you want to do such a stupid thing?” Hochstetter yelled, towering his short stature over Klink’s crouched form.

Klink just blinked owlishly and frowned. He had wanted to be the humane Kommandant his men knew him to be.

Newkirk moaned. “Sir… please…”

“Quiet unless you’re spoken to!” Hochstetter roared. “Leave him chained, Klink, or I’ll chain you up, too!” He spun on his heel and went to search the house.

Klink sighed and stood. “I am sorry, Corporal, but you heard the Major.” He paused, then pulled out his own handkerchief and held it in front of Newkirk’s face. “No tricks?”

Newkirk nodded, then spoke nasally, “No tricks.” Klink pressed the handkerchief to his nose and held it while he blew. He sighed when finished. “Danke.”

“Bitte,” Klink replied, nodding at the Corporal’s respectful response. Considering this, he knew the Englander was still sick. He sighed, they needed to return to the Stalag sooner than later, if for no other reason than to get Newkirk somewhere warmer.

Klink paused and listened to Hochstetter’s footsteps clomping around. The corner of his mouth twitched. For a small man, he certainly made loud footsteps. He turned back to Newkirk but found his eyes closed. He decided to let the Brit rest. Perhaps he could, too. He settled on the other end of the couch and closed his eyes.

-HH-

Colonel Hogan sighed. He was down in the radio room of the tunnels. He was still at times, even after a month, amazed that the men had managed such a tunnel system. Since Klink had been installed as Commandant shortly before Hogan arrived, Hogan had made the no-escape clause to keep the spotlight off the Stalag and thus have the ability to use the tunnel system freely when necessary.

When Hogan had contacted the Underground about the train, he was adamant about not blowing up the train itself. He hadn’t wanted to offer that Newkirk may have been on the train, even if he was quite sure he was.

Corporal Peter Newkirk had been a thorn in Hogan’s side since day one. In addition to stealing his wallet on day two, he had been a nuisance. Newkirk clearly walked to the beat of his own drum and seemed to have a loathing for officers.

Yet, Hogan found something rather endearing about the Englishman, even if Hogan wasn’t quite sure what that was. At least, that was until Newkirk announced he wanted to try another escape. Hogan told him that he had agreed to the no-escape clause. Newkirk had scowled and turned on his heel. That had been the end of it… until Newkirk turned up missing at roll call.

Klink had been beside himself. He sent Schultz out with a search party and made phone calls from his office.

Hogan had made his own call then to the Underground to ask them to not blow up the train, just in case.

Klink met with Schultz when he returned without Newkirk.

That’s when Hochstetter arrived. Klink begged the Major to let him help search and save his multi-month long no-escapes record. The two officers left in Hochstetter’s car.

“Sir?”

Hogan turned at the voice and found it was Kinchloe. “Yeah, Kinch?”

“The tracks were blown, but no one was on the train.”

Hogan sighed. “Get back on and see if the Underground can search the area. I take it Klink nor Hochstetter have returned.”

Kinch nodded. “They have not returned.”

“We need a munitions man…” Hogan shook his head. “When you finish on the radio, get LeBeau. Bring your heavy coats. We’re going out to find them.”

“How, Sir?”

“With the help of a Schultz.”

&&&&&

Chapter 2

Klink was fretting about his record during the drive out in Hochstetter’s car. They had tried the Hammelburg train station and gotten nowhere.

Headed back to the Major’s car, Hochstetter threw an arm out in front of Klink. Klink was about to start blubbering when the Major shushed him. There was movement inside the car.

Suddenly the car came alive and flew backwards out of the parking spot, then it flew forward and got hung up on a curb. Newkirk cursed and hit the wheel. It had simply been too long since he’d driven a car, though he realized he still had a heavy foot. He made a move to get out but entered into a sneezing fit first.

The car door opened and a hand reached in holding a handkerchief. Newkirk sniffed and followed the arm up to a sneering Gestapo Major. He recognized him but couldn’t remember his name.

“‘Ello, mate.” Newkirk paused, noticing Klink cowering behind the Gestapo man. “It would seem I found a right bit of trouble…”

“Yes, it would.” Hochstetter yanked Newkirk’s arm, pulling him from the car. The Major scowled at the car. “We’ll have to take the train back now.” He moved around to the boot and removed a set of chains. “Klink! Put these on the prisoner!”

“But, Major…!” Klink simpered.

“DO IT!” Hochstetter bellowed. He waited until Klink got the chains on Newkirk’s ankles before disappearing back into the train station.

“‘E’s in a ruddy bad mood, ain’t ‘e?” Newkirk commented. “‘Ey, Commandant, is this really necessary?”

“Yes, it keeps me from being sent to the Russian Front,” Klink replied. He snapped the wrist chains on. “I am surprised you did this with that cold of yours and the freezing temperature out here.”

Newkirk lifted a shoulder. He wore his greatcoat but was currently sweating in it. He knew he was feverish but didn’t wish to share that with Klink at the moment.

Hochstetter returned. “We’re getting on the train. It runs just beyond Stalag 13 where we can get off, then, Klink, you will call for a car to take us the rest of the way.”

Klink nodded as Hochstetter grabbed Newkirk’s arm and shoved him, nearly causing him to stumble due to the chains. They headed back into the train station.

&&&&&

“KLINK!”

The Colonel snapped awake and nearly jumped. “Yes, Major?” He quivered beside the couch where he had dozed off.

“You DARE sleep with a dangerous prisoner beside you!?” Hochstetter roared.

Klink turned to the silent Newkirk. He slept right through Hochstetter’s yelling. Klink’s brow creased. He noted the RAF Corporal looked flushed and seemed to be shivering in his heavy coat. “Uh, Major—“

“I don’t want to hear it, Klink!” Hochstetter sighed, scowling at Klink. “Stay awake and watch him. I am going to sleep for a few hours.”

“Yes, Major—“ Klink began, but Hochstetter was already out of ear-shot. Klink sighed and sat back down on the couch. He looked over at Newkirk again. As if the Englander could be any trouble in his current state.

&&&&&

Hogan drove one of the trucks from the camp motor pool. Schultz sat beside him. Kinch and LeBeau were in the back.

The truck followed the train tracks as best as possible. Hogan wasn’t completely sure what he was looking for but the map had shown a minor amount of promise.

Schultz fidgeted nervously in his seat. He just wanted to collect Newkirk and return to the camp.

Kinch and LeBeau kept watch from the back just in case.

Hogan slowed the truck and stopped. “There’s the train.”

“Looks like the rocks slid down and stopped it,” Kinch said.

“I wonder where they could’ve gone?” LeBeau asked rhetorically.

“Hm,” was Hogan’s only response. He knew there was a safe house around nearby but didn’t want to give away his knowledge of it. Instead he simply decided to drive in that direction.

As they neared the house, they found footprints, though much too many for only one person. Hogan groaned internally. He stopped the truck just as the house came into view.

“I’ll pull in closer. Schultz I’d like you to go in there. Meanwhile, we’ll set up back here as though you’re alone. And you are alone.”

Schultz nodded nervously. “Jawohl… uh ja, Colonel Hogan.”

Hogan finally parked the truck right outside the house and sent Schultz to his errand.

Hogan sighed. “I have an idea Newkirk is in there with Klink and probably Hochstetter, too. We’ll have to stay out of sight. Now, find a decent hiding place and get comfortable.”

Had Hogan known that Hochstetter wasn’t involved, he was sure they could’ve gone in too and just given Klink a story. He didn’t wish to take the chance. It was bad enough Newkirk tried to escape.

Eventually, Schultz returned with an angry Hochstetter, a cowering Klink, and a nearly passed-out Newkirk who was unceremoniously thrown in the back of the truck. Schultz was told to drive with Hochstetter taking the passenger seat. Klink climbed in the back since no space was allowed him in the front.

Hogan and the others watched Klink settle beside Newkirk who had passed out again. He was still shackled. Klink leaned over and surprisingly stroked Newkirk’s head in a fatherly manner.

Hogan was impressed. Klink actually was humane as he so often claimed.

&&&&&

Once back at camp, Hogan did a bit of fancy footwork and finagling as he quickly joined the small group in Klink’s office and took responsibility for his man.

Newkirk kept his head bowed, though he coughed and sniffled.

Hochstetter, disgusted with the entire thing, slammed his way out of the office with a resounding “BAH!”

Klink relinquished Newkirk to Hogan without any cooler time.

Hogan began to walk Newkirk across the parade grounds towards the barracks.

“Sir?”

“Yes, Newkirk?”

“I shoulda followed yer orders. I’m so used ta trying ta get out of here…”

“I know but listen, we have a lot to do here and I want you to help,” Hogan said.

Newkirk sneezed.

“But first, we gotta get rid of your cold,” Hogan said, smirking.

-end-

Not her and goodness him. How did this happen. How to begin. Fighting not in fashion.

“ You know, out of the whole place in this damned world, I rather be in the deepest pits of hell than here with you.” Her tone was filled with venom, snapping at the petite woman beside her.

“ Pfft, sure sure. Empty threats don’t scare me, Skylar.”

The woman- or Skylar, snarled, huffing and puffing. The other woman, who put on a brave face is named Creed. No one knows why her family named her that, or if she truly has a family.

Lastly, in the corner of the room is our youngest-Shane. Shane is the quiet of the bunch, but always…brooding so to speak.

“ So…why are we here again?” Creed speaks, her tone low. Skylar makes no retort, or movement to the grey-eyed female. Creed gives Shane the side eye, standing up.

“ Well, you all are so fun to toy with, sorry to cut the party short but it’s best to leave.”

Creed strides towards the door, grasping onto the handle and twisting. And twisting, and twisting.

“…Sky dearie, what the actual FU-“

“ Don’t you dare blame me for this situation, albino. I played no part.”

“ Of course you did you prick! You caused us to be in this stupid, damp room for one of the most valued holidays in the world. If you weren’t getting so hansy with that bast-“

“ Hansy? Hansy? You really going to say I’m hansy when you shamelessly flirt with every single bachelor out there? Especially him? You have no dignity, spreading your-“

Shane was used to this bickering. Both Creed and Skylar always tried to kill each other, no matter what. They threw insult after insult, slurs and phrases that shouldn’t be even considered.

And to think we were all friends at one point, Shane thought.

Shane didn’t understand when they went wrong, or even if they did. They used to playful bicker, but what happened?

Maybe it was the Prince that tore them all apart. Prince Rowan of Welsh, the kingdom that they we’re currently in. Welsh all toyed with their hearts, especially Shane’s.

Sometimes, she can still feel his touch lingering. Shuddering, she clears her through, grabbing the attention of the two toddlers.

“ We won’t be leaving this room anytime soon until we get it together. You both know that. “

Shane’s voice was calm and collected, yet it was so misleading on the inside. She burned with rage, desperation and fear of what these two women could do to each other. To her.

“ Did we ask for your input, whore?” Creed snarls out, glaring at Shane. If looks could kill, Shane would be long past dead.

“…Whore? Why are you calling her a damn whore when she barely touches anyone. Honestly, check the mirror Albino. You’re the whore here-“

“ Ah yes, how I could forget. Your precious little Shane, always defending her dignity. She owns a damn strip club for Rowan’s sake.”

No matter how hard they yell, Shane can’t help but flinch. No matter how far she tries to hide from her past, it always catches up to her, and bites her right back in the ass.

‘We used to be so close, so kind…kinda. Did Rowan plant seeds of doubt in all of our minds, to separate us?’

‘That had to be it. I mean, looking at the scene in front of me- Skylars going to rip out someone’s throat…for insulting me…’

Skylar’s eyes maroon shimmer with wrath, her grip tightening on the hilt of her dagger. Yet, she makes no move.

Shane stays quiet, partially afraid of what will go down. It seems like whenever she uses her voice, someone comes to take her down.

Skylar breathes, her fingers easing off the dagger.

“ Okay…listen you two. None of this will be resolved with us insulting each other.”

“ Ha, says you. You started this whole-“

“ Creed, for once in your life shut that mouth. Can’t you see Skylars just trying to make things right?”

Creed stares at the youngster, sighting.

“ Continue, Sky.”

“ Thank you…listen. We all are pissed about being played by the prince. It’s like he wanted to split from the start, since we oh so heavily rely on each other for support. So, let’s play him back. Forget all that we witnessed. It is the most important day of the year- Lunea Solice. Ruining this day will tear him down to the meer pegs he left us. However…”

Skylar flicks her hand out, pointing at Creed.

“ Apologies, and I shall do the same.”

Creeds mouth is agape, startled. ‘Since when is Skylar calm and empathetic,’ she thinks.

“ Shane, home girl…I’m sorry for calling you a whore, a slut- all the things. That damn prince really played us, huh?”

Shane nods, mumbling a quiet acceptance.

“ As my end of the bargan, sorry for calling you an Albino, even though you are one-“

“ you jerkwad-“

“ it’s the truth, I mean it as not a insult this time.”

“ then say that, Sky.”

Skylar smirks, shrugging. “ you’ll just have to hear it from me another day. Now with that being said-“

Skylar pulls her dagger out, it’s metal gleaming in the dark cellar they were placed in by the sergeants long ago.

“ Who’s ready to destroy that royal to nothing?”

I was surprised to receive an invitation to a Christmas party at my family home. It used to be tradition in the Jameson family home for us to throw a huge Christmas party for all the witches in the community. But that stopped five years ago after Daddy passed away. I moved out of the house shortly after that.

Pulling my coat closer around my neck and face, I knocked on the front door. I heard shuffling before my mother opened the door. Her smile was big as she glanced at me.

“Vera!”

She gestures for me to come inside. I step inside, shrugging off my coat and putting it on the coat rack.

“It’s cold out there! Come in the kitchen and get a cup of hot chocolate.”

She hurries off for the cup while I glance around at my former home. Nothing has changed and yet everything feels different. Photos from our annual camping trips still sat in their frames on the shelves framing the fireplace. The scent of my mother’s floral scent perfume hung in the air. And yet the absence of Daddy was everywhere I looked! Like how there was no jazz music blaring from the speakers. Or how there was no scent of his fancy cigars in the air. His favorite chair by the fireplace sat unoccupied. It was hard being here! I missed him so much.

Whipping a tear from my eye, I made my to the kitchen. The scent of apple pie hit my nose making my stomach grumble.

“Where’s Treyvon?” I asked as I took the hot chocolate from her.

I haven’t spoken to my brother much since I moved out. There was tension between us since he didn’t like the fact that I blamed our mother for not doing enough to prevent Daddy from passing.

“He’s still upstairs in his room.” she said shaking her head.

“Treyvon, come dow the stairs and say hi to your sister!” she yelled up the stairs.

A few minutes later, he came shuffling into the kitchen. He wore a red suit with a black shirt underneath. The red tie he wore to match hung loosely around his neck.

“Sis!”

He leans casually against the kitchen counter, a bored expression on his face. I look closer at his face. There were dark circles under eyes like he hasn’t been getting much sleep lately.

“Hey!” I gave him a small smile.

Despite how everything’s been between us, I really did miss. We weren’t the close since I was the oldest, but we did use to get along. A part of me we really wished we could get back to that!

“Boy, fix your tie and button up that shirt!” my mother scolded him.

“Why? What does it matter what I look like?”

I stared at my brother in shock. He never raised his voice at our mother. I was the trouble child, always talking back. And he was always the good one, rarely getting into mischief. Which made it clear to me that Daddy’s passing had more of an effect on him than I had realized.

“It’s important for us Jamesons to look presentable.”

“For who? It’s not as if the other witches are here! I don’t even understand why we’re having this stupid party in the first place! What even the point of it if Dad isn’t here?” he finished in a long breath.

A heavy silence fell over the room. My mother didn’t seem to have a response to that. And honestly, neither did I. What was the point to all of this? Daddy wasn’t here! Nothing about our Christmas party would ever be the same without him again. So why was our mother insisted on having it? It didn’t make any sense! After a few minutes had passed, my mother finally spoke.

“Why don’t you two take the rest of the food into the dinning room while I pull the apple pie out of the oven.”

Gathering the remaining food, we headed to dinning room and sat down Trey too his spot across from and sighed. He looked twenty years older than me, anger still visible in his features. I dropped down into the chair, my body feeling heavy. It hasn’t even been an hour yet and I already wanted to leave. We sat in an uncomfortable silence, not really sure of what to say to one another.

A few minutes later, my mother walked into the room with the apple pie in her hands. She sat it down on the table and took her seat. I glanced at the seat at the other end of the table where Daddy used to sit feeling an ache in my heart.

“Why don’t we say prayer before this food gets cold!” she said.

We said prayer and made our plates. I poked at my food while silently listening to the sound of metal scraping plates from them eating. Since no one else was going to talk, I figured I’d try to break the uncomfortable silence.

“So how’s senior year going Trey?”

“Fine.” he said without even looking up from his plate.

Great one word answers!

“Have you decided on where you want to go after graduation?”

He finally looked up at me, annoyance in his eyes.

“You don’t have to do that!” he said.

“Do what?”

“Pretend to give a shit!”

“Language!” my mother yelled at him.

“I don’t even know why you invited her. Especially after the way she acted when Dad died. She blamed you for not saving him. And then she just left like the rest of us didn’t matter!”

“It was her fault! She could of asked the elders to let her use a necromancy spell to bring him back, but she refused. And now Daddy’s dead because of her!”

“You know those kinds of spells are forbidden V!”

“I have cancer!”

We stared at our mother in shock. Cancer! No this couldn’t be happening. We can’t loose her too!

“Great. Just great.” I shut the blinds so fast they nearly break, yanking the curtains practically off the wall in an attempt to cover up what lies outside.

“What is it, Zeussical the musical?” I can feel the sparks begin to scamper across my skin, electricity raising the hair along my arms. Ever since I had that one-off with a bloody middle school drama teacher, Poseidon has added that moniker to his arsenal of nicknames for me.

“We’re stuck you idiot! In a snowstorm!” I throw up my hands.

“No way,” Hades drawls from the living room. His eyes are glued to his mobile, even though there’s no service up here. Probably playing some kind of offline game. Between the hideous posture, the eyeliner, and the dark gray hoodie, he looks like the grumpy lil’ gremlin I always knew. It makes me want to put him in a headlock because I know how much he’d hate it.

“Are you done sitting in the corner being emo?” Poseidon sneers from the kitchen, where he’s trying and failing to cook salmon properly.

“Shut up,” Hades spits out, then pauses as if to rethink his response. “And if anyone’s the emo cousin in the family, it’s Apollo.”

I look up at the ceiling, and back at my brother, and sigh, the wrath bleeding out of me. “Touché.” I slump into the couch just as I hear Poseidon let out a stream of swears.

Hades gets up and I’m suddenly reminded of how freakishly tall he is. I sit there as he walks over to argue with Poseidon over blackened fish.

For a moment, my heart swells. We never get to have this. Ever since we cast lots for which kingdom we’d each get, a kind of divide appeared between us. We were so close knit when we dethroned our tyrannical father, but all that’s shifted. Hades’ line of work hasn’t exactly helped his depression, and Poseidon and I are both trapped in failing marriages. My kids have been pushing for Hera and I to get a divorce for centuries.

Marriage can be too complicated sometimes.

But now we’re all here, together. (Persephone’s idea by the way. She wanted the three of us to have some kind of family reunion in this snowy cabin in the middle of nowhere. Thought it might take some of the stress and pressure off of Hades if he had a little vacation with his closest [read: most hateful] siblings.)

And somehow, I think Persephone was onto something. Maybe this weekend can be a way for us to look past differences and insignificant—

“Zeus!” Poseidon roars in between curses. “Get over here!” I groan, readying myself for the argument I’m about to join.

(But underneath it all, I think I’m smiling. Just a little bit.)

Who could say no to little Suzie. She’s a mixture of a feyling and a halfling with a whole lot of heart. She’s got the small stature that reminds you of little adorable children you have to keep happy. As a half giant, names Greg, I can’t help but spoil her any way I know how. She’s got the innocent puppy eyes that you know will make you feel guilty when their sad. Sheel’a, our rouge, has got such a soft spot for those eyes, it’s no wonder we have so many dire wolf companions. She’s also got a lot of firepower, and an unexpected knack for tracking down strays. Terlek, our warlock, more than respects her for that.

That’s our party. The one thing we all share along with our love and respect for Suzie, our hatred for each other. Seriously, we’re barely a party. Sheel’a tries to take all the reward money. I will admit, I don’t trust warlocks. And Terlek…he just doesn’t seem to like anybody. The only thing keeping us together is the job, and Suzie. So when Suzie said we were all going on holiday, we grumbled but gave in. When Suzie said she had errands to run and wouldn’t be there, there was a whole lot of hullabaloo. Until Suzie pulled out her staff and the world seemed to go dark as she told us that the three of us were going on holiday together “and that’s final!”

So we’re going on holiday. The three of us. Any bets on how long this will last or who will die first?

On winter break, nearly everyone at Afterglow Academy traveled to Snow Beach. So named because the sand at Snow Beach was white as snow and the city was the coldest in Afire, though never cold enough to warrant a jacket.

Students from Afire traveled with their friends or families. Students like Clove who were new to Afire traveled with the school.

Clove spent the majority of her time on her vacation at Snow Beach in her hotel room, studying so that she could get better grades than Oleander and become this year’s August Witch. She rarely left her room. She rarely saw her roommate Allspice who only returned to the hotel room to sleep. Clove felt that her vacation was very enjoyable.

But Clove made the mistake of leaving her room one day to get the hotel breakfast. And she ran into Regina.

“Hi, Clove!” Regina said. “It is so good to see you! We’re doing a craft today, and I’d really like for you to participate! Don’t you love scrapbooking! I think you will just love this craft!”

“Hi,” Clove said.

Regina stepped closer to Clove and whispered in her ear. “This will be a good opportunity for you,” she said, “to prove that you can get along, to prove that you have what it takes to be an August Witch.”

Clove stared at Regina.

“Well then!” Regina said. “I’ll see you there!” Then, Regina walked away.

Clove had had no other choice but to go to the craft event.

But she had shown up, and the plans had changed.

“We were going to make a craft,” Basil said, “but now we’re using magic to build towers. The goal is to build a tower that could never stand up without magic. There’s your group.”

Clove looked at her table. “Uh uh,” she said. She flinched as if to turn around and leave.

But then she saw Regina watching her.

She turned back toward the table and walked toward it with her chin up. She pulled back her seat and sat down. She grimaced at Oleander.

“I guess I’m on your team,” she said.

Oleander and his girlfriend Ginger were gluing googly eyes to their robot.

“No,” Ginger said.

“Excuse me,” Clove said.

“Pick another table,” Ginger said. “You’re not wanted here. After the way you’ve treated Oleander, I can’t believe you show your face here and dare to sit at our table. Go away, please.”

“I was sent to this table,” Clove said.

Ginger glared at Clove. “We don’t need you,” she said.

Clove looked anxiously around the room and made eye contact with Regina.

Regina smiled at Clove.

“I could seal the robot at the end,” Clove said.

“Show off,” Ginger said.

“Excuse me,” Clove said.

“Aren’t you showing off your sealant magic,” Ginger said. “Usually, you downplay it even though anyone at Afterglow Academy would love to have the advantage that you have.”

“Oleander,” Clove said. “Will you accept my help? We could work together this once?”

“I would like to enjoy my holiday,” Oleander said.

“Oh, just go,” Ginger said, “you’re just an orphan.”

“I have a great family,” Clove said.

“Well, where are they?” Ginger laughed.

Clove lunged at Ginger. Then she remembered Regina and stopped herself. She looked over and saw Regina engaged in conversation. She sighed. She lost balance and fell into the robot. The robot toppled to the floor.

Oleander groaned. “All of our hard work,” he said.

“I can’t believe you did that!” Ginger cried.

A few of Ginger’s friends gathered around her to comfort her.

“How could you?” they said. “You’d better watch your back at Afterglow Academy after this. We stick together.”

Clove just stared at them.

She thought about apologizing or coming up with an explanation.

Instead, she gritted her teeth. “I think you’re the ones who will need to watch your backs,” she said.

Erika’s mood was as bleak as the rain threatening sky. In her ice blue negligée, she unconsciously struck a pose highlighting her lean long legs. The help was humming “Last Christmas” as she washed the dishes. Thomas watched her with hungry eyes. He turned away angry at himself for still wanting such a craven creature.

Thomas stabbed the tremulous fire and only succeeded in killing it. If I had wanted a fishwife I would have stayed married to Helene, he thought. His knees ached and he felt like the 63 year old man that he was. Under thick lashes Erika watched Thomas not looking at her and tighten her silky robe. Pretending to admire the scenery, she turned her back to the living room. The clatter of the dishwasher being loaded irked her. Erika flicked her platinum hair.

Coming to Aspen for Christmas was a mistake, she thought. At least in New York or LA there was shopping. Erika looked at elegant mountain top lodge, all modern leather furniture, original artwork, chandeliers, fur rugs, live in maid, and shrugged. Sighing she thought of Alexander McQueen vintage purses.

From the kitchen the help was humming “Blue Christmas.” Thomas tossed down the poker and stomped to the bar. He poured a double Scotch and drained it. Hearing his wife sigh he turned to watch her be gorgeous in the moonlight. Over his second double Thomas thought about the first time they’d met at Alexander’s cigar bar.

Erika’s mind flexed from purses to her monthly allowance to their prenup. Grimacing Erika considered how Thomas took judges on golf vacations and was the president of the Bar Association. The kitchen sounds made Erika think of the hard years as a cocktail waitress flirting with old men to pay her rent. She snagged against the curved floor to ceiling window.

Thomas wrapped himself around her from behind. Erika sank into him.

“I’m sorry babydoll. I’ve been so tense with all these civil suits. I snapped at you and terrible things were said. Every podunk D.A. wants to win elections by coming after us. We make drugs not addicts. As if our company is responsible for every junkie hillbilly.”

The crash of glasses thundered from the kitchen.

“Sorry, sir. Sorry, ma’am,” said a thin voice with a heavy Appalachian drawl. “I’ll tote this mess away in a paper poke and get out from under yar hair. So sorry.”

Thomas scrowled. Erika rolled her hips against him smoothing away his irritation. He trailed wet kisses down her neck and untied her robe. The light rain turned to a silvery flurry of snowflakes. The maid cleaned up the glass in silence, turned off the kitchen lights, and walked through the slush to her room over the attached garage. She began to hum “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas,” but stopped in case the guests overheard her.

Erika faced Thomas and allowed her robe to slip to the floor in a sensuous heap. She brushed her lips over his lips and lovingly stroked his balding head. Erika tucked his combover behind his ear.

“Oh sugar you never have to say you’re sorry.”