Stuck on the puzzle

Very subtle

"Good morning, miss Martin! How do you do?"

"Phoebe, sweetie! How do you do? You grew up to be so pretty and feminine and... beautiful! Come give me a hug!"

Isaac's mom said she would drive us to the airport. They came to pick me up at 10:30. Our plane was at 15. I haven't seen her in about half a year. Lately, she has been traveling around with Isaac's stepfather in his business trips. She had to leave for work at 11, but she promised she'll help us find a place to wait for the plane. Isaac obviously called me at midnight again to remind me what an important day this will be. We chatted all night on skype. We were both so anxious we couldn't sleep. Anyway, as I hugged miss Martin, Isaac mimed from behind her a sickened figure that was ready to throw up on all this fake cuteness of his mom's It made me chuckle.

Isaac helped me lift the trollers in the trunk, putting them over his, pushing them in. The 2 other bags sat next to me in the back seat.

"What'd you do with Benny?" Isaac asked, putting his seat belt on.

"I left him at Thalia's. She has a boy, Ryan, who offered to take care of him."

"Cute. I thought you sacked the poor thingie, because you are such a heartless evil queen. Kidding."

Isaac puts his sun glasses on and turns the volume to the maximum. His mom scolds him for doing such a thing but she gives up eventually, saying that you travel with your best friend to America only once in a lifetime and that you have to make a special day out of it.

"TALK DIRTY TO ME, TADAM DAM TADA TADADADAM!" Isaac started imitating Jason Derulo, who was currently filling our ears.

"Phoebs, sing with me! ...BUT YOUR BOOTY DON'T NEED EXPLAINING WHEN. YOU. TALK DIRTY TO ME"

"I got lipstick stamps on my passport.." I mumble, not knowing the order of the lyrics.

"NO! IT'S FIRST CLASS SEAT ON MY LAP, GIRL."

Jason Derulo was, in fact, singing something else, neither of us being right about the order.

"At least you tried, kids." Isaac's mom said, laughing. "Phoebe, is he always so cheerful?"

"Nah, I think it's because of the fresh air."

We stared at Isaac who was doing some sort of Macarena in his chair with the seat belt and his sunglasses on. And Isaac was no good dancer, so the whole movement made him look like a worm. Or like Stephen Hawking, somehow.

"Women, I am the one living the life here! You are so tensed! Just, YOLO. God, feel free! I understand, mom is old. But Phoebs!"

"Isaac Daniel Martin, your mom is not old, she isn't just as young as she used to be!"

We giggled and than realized we were there, in the parking lot. The next second, Isaac jumped out of the car like a king and screamed: AMERICA, WE'RE COMING! WOOOOO HOOOOO!!

"He doesn't do drugs, does he?" His mom asks me quietly as he inspires profoundly the air.

"I'm pretty sure he is just awfully happy."
I jump on his back, taking him by surprise and he plays along, pretending to be a plane.

"Crash, crash, there's a monkey on board!" Isaac said, referring to me. His mom took a picture of us in that very moment.

"I will send this to both of you. You look so nice! Just the same as when you were little!"

Me and Isaac checked the picture out. His light green T-Shirt highlighted his green eyes and also illuminated my medium-length black hair. I was wearing a pair of light blue jeans that covered my legs all the way right above my knees. A pale pink T-Shirt, the pale pink bag I bought with Haley and a black pair of Converse completed my look, giving me the freedom of feeling truly comfortable, knowing that I will be traveling for 14 hours.