The shuttle roars down the runway and takes off at blinding speed. I'm used to it now, but it's always hard on the newbies. Someone a few rows in front of us screams and another person grunts. An unsecured bag rolls down the aisle, and the flight attendant comes over the speakers to remind everyone of where the air sickness bags are. I chuckle under my breath. Amateurs.
I never thought I'd see Erik turn green. He has an iron stomach, the kind that laughs at alcohol and greasy food. And he rarely shows fear. Never a flinch. I've only once seen him sick, though he's nursed me through plenty of awful hangovers.