DEFINE COOL

""What fun is it being cool if you can't wear a sombrero" - Calvin & Hobbes

Chapter One

'I hate it this place already' Saxton thought as she stood in front of the entrance of the airport lobby. 'Too damn hot,' she thought as she looked up at the sky.

Saxton dropped her bags, one because they were way to heavy to just be standing there holding them and two, it was so hot her hands were sweating and they were slipping. Saxton ran her fingers over the rim of her sombrero, she fixed her pink glasses and chewed on her bottom lip.

'Where was this guy?' She asked herself and popped a squat on the top of one of her big suitcases. She pulled off her backpack and opened it, she pulled out a piece of gum and popped it in her mouth. She looked left then right down the 4-lane street. The palm trees were swinging in the light breeze.

'Gosh, even the breeze is hot.'

Saxton was not a happy camper, in fact she hated camping. But this was worst than camping, this was torture, very sweaty, very hot torture. She was very happy that she had put on deodorant that morning, otherwise her and everyone on Flight 72 would be very stinky.

Finally a Benz pulled up and she almost ignored it, she didn't think that he would be driving in such a nice car. But as she pulled the picture of him out of her bad and watched the man get out of the car and open the trunk, she stood.

"About time, I could've had a heat stroke or worst, die from extreme boredom." She said as she pulled her first two suitcases and walked to the back of the car. As he looked up she could see the resemblance, but she refused to accept it.

"You sound like your mother," he spoke soft but deep.

"Thank you," she replied, taking it as a compliment.

"Uh, your welcome." He said taking the bags from her hands and tossing them carelessly into the trunk. "Are those yours too?" He asked and she turned to look behind her.

"You betcha," she said and he sighed and went to go get the last 2. She let him do all the work while she opened the passenger door and inspected the seats. "Excuse me," she said and he looked up from trying to situate the suitcases so they could fit. "Are those seats leather?" She asked popping her gum.

"Yes, why?" He asked.

"Mother must not have told you, I'm allergic to leather." She said and smirked as he looked at her puzzled.

"Seriously?" He asked and she shrugged.

"Okay that's a lie, but I find it very tacky," she finished before getting back into the car. Trying her hardest not to think about the seats she put on her seat belt.

The driver's door opened and in climbed he, Saxton ignored him and took her pink glasses off to put them into her backpack, while switching them with purple shades.

"You are quite colorful," Mark said and she looked down on her outfit. She had worn a shirt with pink,purple,and yellow swirls, bright yellow shorts and pink and purple sneakers.

"And you are very," she looked him up and down, he had worn gray and black. "Bland." She finished and turned to the window.

"Look, I know you don't want to be here but-"

"Please don't give me the, I-wish-it-could-be-different speech, mom wore that to death. No thank you." She interrupted.

"Okay," he said and decided that talking might not be the best solution to getting to know each other. He couldn't help but glance over every now and then though, she looked just like her, except for the eyes. He knew those eyes, he looked at them everyday, even scrutinized them sometimes. But never on her, that was the little bit of her that was like him, and possibly the only thing.