Youngsters appear in many of Ramona Stewart's attractive stories, usually in more threatened circumstances than here where Vickie and Trude, fourteen, vacationing in: Key West, have a pact to have sex before August and commit suicide before forty. This, without all that macrobiotic static, is a more cheerful reminder of Herlihy's Season of the Witch -- these girls have intrepid imaginations, ambitions and stomachs -- snitching jays and smoking them on top of custard cones. They also just about move in with Lambert, alumnus of three books and three marriages. Trude finds him marvelous and actually he doesn't deserve what's going to happen to hint before he's through with all this teenybopper jailbait. A sassy, snubnosed diversion.