A brand new story for the holidays. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Helena and Marissa.

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For Emily there were about a million things she'd rather do, then come to these business conferences. Shaving her legs with sandpaper or washing her hair with mustard and ketchup, to give you some idea. Just the thought of a long wooden table, water bottles and papers full of notes made her skin crawl. These holiday ones were better, though but not by much.

One of Edmonton's best hotels was holding the conference, and was decorated in your typical, Christmas style. Bright green and red streamers were hung around the pillars while the silver tinsel that gets everywhere, was thrown on all the fake potted plants pilled around the room. It made it look like the Amazon Jungle got vomited on by glitter. A large gold banner with the words "Merry Christmas Editors and Editor Juniors" printed on it was hung over the food tables.

Emily's boss and all the other people on the board decided that the best way to spend the annual "Editor Bash" was to have it include the kids in the area that were wanting to become editors. That way they could talk to real people who worked the job everyday and decide if that's a job that looks interesting to them. In Emily's opinion, it was a load of bullshit that they could throw out there to make themselves look better.

But a free trip to a big city with hundreds of shopping malls with thousands of shoe stores was a hard thing to pass up.

"Who are you picking?"

Emily shifted in her seat, her black curls bouncing, to look around the table for her best friend. Helena had worked with Emily since she started at Blush and Things, a small magazine based around make-up products that were natural and good for the skin. It wasn't exactly glamorous, but it paid the bills.

Emily tilted her head. "What are you talking about?"

The strawberry blonde rolled her eyes. "Stop day dreaming. I asked which one of these tykes you're going to go after. Tom is getting ready to head up on stage, and when he does, we all have to match up with one of these kids and talk about our jobs." She shuddered at the thought.

"Worried that they'll find out you don't actually put any effort into your work?" Emily teased, smirking at the girl. Helena just scowled.

"Just for that little comment, I shotgun that kid." Helena's long finger nail shot out as she pointed at a short boy with freckles and Harry Potter glasses sitting a few tables away from us. He gulped and gave a little wave in our direction, but Helena was already back looking at me.

Emily scoffed, "You only chose him because he looks smart."

"It doesn't matter why I chose him. It just matters that now, you'll have to choose quickly and," She spoke the word with unnecessary volume that cause other editors to glace over at our table before getting back into their own conversations. "There are only girls left."

My eyes opened wide and I scanned the room, looking for some child sitting at a table that I hadn't heard someone call "dibs" on already.

"What about him?" I pointed to a boy at a table on the other side of the room. His blonde hair was getting in his eyes and he kept blowing it back; his arms crossed over his chest and blocking most of the gamer logo that was printed on the shirt.

Helena grinned widely. "Jason from that terrible Auto Magazine already called him."

Sometimes, I really hated her. Helena was very competitive about everything, mostly because she grew up in a very sports centered home. Her older sister, Hannah, was captain of the University volleyball team. Helena did track and participated in basketball when she was attending high school. When she first told me this, I looked at her tiny figure, trapped in a tight skirt and low cut blouse. Her nails done to perfection and hair placed in a neat bun at the top of her head and didn't believe her. But the next day when we happened to be in the washroom at the same time, she stood there when I opened the stall door smiling.

"I so beat you!" She did a little jump in her high heel shoes, clapping her hands.

I shot her a look and headed over to the sink. "Beat me at what?"

"Going to the bathroom." And with those final words, she turned and walked out. I finished washing my hands before I followed her. I never really understood how we became friends, but ever since that day, she's been the one girl I go to with every crisis I have. It doesn't matter if it's about a guy, our boss or the coffee pot in the lounge that spits up. Helena has an answer for everything.

I glanced around the area once more, scoping out anyone that didn't look taken. See, the thing is, most girls here were in that awkward stage of adolescence and were so immature when it came to this sort of stuff. They ask dumb questions and pop their gum and smile you this smile that looks so fake and forced. Boys at least try to think of polite things to say, when they're not staring at your chest.

"How about her?" The woman to my right, Sophie asked. I peeked over her shoulder at a young girl who had too much lipstick on and a bright green tank top.

"Meh."

"You're going to have to pick eventually, Em. This is what happens when you get out of the race to day drea..." Helena was cut off by loud feedback. I winced, resisting the urge to put my hands over my ears. Tom, a large man who was one of the central people on the board, smiled at us. His large face looked alien in the neon coloured lights booming on to him from the stage. Sweat was on his forehead and he used the back of his sleeve to wipe it off.

"Good-evening editors!"

We all chorused back to him.

"I hope you're all as excited as we are about the new addition to our little annual program. This is such a great opportunity for all the editors in training." He winked at the crowd and Helena and I sunk back into our seats. One of the big flaws of these meetings was that Tom always showed up and flirted with anyone wearing heals and a dress. Disgusting.

"Now, I would like all the editors to sitting at the tables to my right, to make their way up and find an editor-to-be on my left. Sit with them, talk with them, become they're friend, mentor and idol. But most of all have fun and learn a lot. Go get 'em, editors!"

I never understood why he always addressed us as editors, we were people too. I felt myself standing up anyways. Miss. Green Tank Top was talking to someone beside her, and I found myself looking around for a hole to jump in. Anything to get me out of this situation.

"Hello, Miss. Davis. You look wonderful, like usual." I smoothed out the bottom of my red, strapless. I felt like grabbing the bottom hem and stretching it out, pass my knees. Why did I let Helena talk me into buying this?

"Hi, Tom." I gave him a quick smile, peering around the room now full of movement, for some sort of escape. That's when I saw her.

"I'm going to go grab some punch." I left Tom standing there with his mouth hanging open like he was about to speak and hastily made my way across the room. I doubted he would follow me, even if he could; his roundness is often his biggest downside.

When I got to the table, the girl was still standing there. Her back was to me, but I could tell she was only in her teens. She was wearing a dark green dress that looked to be quite expensive. But the one thing that I noticed the most, the one thing that really brought me over here, was her hair. Her hair, curled and let down past her shoulders, was the colour of auburn yet warmer, somehow. The same hair that my last, serious boyfriend in high school had. Derek Venturi.

It had been quite a few years since our big graduation where we all wore those tacky caps and gowns. I remember how happy I was back then, what with the perfect boyfriend and popularity finally within my grasp. Then Derek, claiming he didn't do distance, broke it off, saying in the long run, it was better to do it now. I agreed with him at the time, although my heart felt like it was breaking slowly from the inside. I never cried when he told me this, but as soon as I got home, I collapsed on my bed.

I tried talking to Casey about it but she just shrugged it off. "You're putting me in a tough position, Em. Derek's family and you are my best friend. I don't want to hurt either of you." I did eventually get over the fact that I would never be Derek's girl. Nevertheless, it's hard when you're in your thirty's, and still haven't been in a real relationship since then. It's the work that keeps me so busy.

"Hello?"

The girl jumped a little before turning around. Her face looked familiar, and I felt an odd twinge when I realized her nose and chin looked a lot like Derek's. The other parts I couldn't pin point who they belonged too, but I did recognize them.

"Oh, hello." She cleared her throat. "I'm not actually part of the Junior Editor program; I'm just here for my friend. She didn't want to come by herself."

I gave her my friendliest smile. At least she wasn't a ditz.

"That's alright. I'm Emily."

I held out my hand.

"Marissa."

She took it and we did a brief shake.

"I know you're not in the program but would you mind being my partner? Everyone else seems to be matched up. We don't even need to talk about editing."

Marissa glanced around the room for her friend, I'm assuming, before drowning the last bit of punch in her glass and placing it on the table.

"Sure. Let's go sit down at my table."

I followed her through the crowds of people, to a small table in a back corner. Marissa sat down and I sat across from her.

"Okay," She seized her purse off the floor and reached inside, digging a little before finally pulling out a small notebook and pen. "Since I'm the one suppose to ask questions, would you mind if I just got a background on you first? It would be great to know how you decided that an editor was what you wanted to be and how your childhood growing up affected that choice."

I blinked.

Was she honestly going to take notes?

Marissa nodded at me to start talking so I took a deep breath and swallowed before speaking.

"Well, I was born in Toronto, but when my Dad's job backfired, he found another one that was similar in a smaller community in Ontario. My parents packed everything up, and when I was two, we all moved into London."

Marissa looked up from her writing and gave a half smile. "My Dad was born in London. In fact, my grandparents still live there."

I smiled back at her. This was getting interesting. Maybe meetings weren't so bad after all.

The end of chapter one. I hope you all enjoyed it. Merry Christmas! Please review and Santa will put something extra special in your stocking this year! :)

xoxoTaraxoxo