I walk onto the plane with slow accuracy. I'm breathing as slowly as I possibly can, panting and hyperventilating at all costs. I turn around; spotting Em and Lily get smaller in the distance as I walk down the hallway that leads to the plane. I can smell the putrid air fuel, or maybe that's just all the people that have probably upchucked in this small exact hallway.

"Are you alright?" The voice behind me is thick with a British accent, for a moment I wonder what the hell they're doing in America before realizing that I'm on my way to England and there's most likely going to be British people on my flight. So, rather than answering the stranger, I decide to ponder how sexy British boys might be. That works out for about 4 minutes and I'm back to breathing heavily again as I approach the flight attendant.

"Hello," She smiles at me brightly. I read her name off of her badge, Aimee. She's American. "28B." She reads the number of my seat off in the most sugar-coated voice I've heard in my life. It almost makes me sick and the plane hasn't even taken off yet. "Over one aisle, back 28 and on your right." I do as she says, walking just as slowly and deliberately as I had been doing the entire length of the hallway. Behind me people are attempting to shuffle past, clearly annoyed at how slow I'm going.

I sit down in my seat and buckle my belt before even shoving my carry-on underneath the seat in front of me. I attempt to recall the cab ride to the airport, but nothing is coming to me, I can't even remember what Lily or Em's faces look like… am I homesick already? I focus my attention on the back of the headrest in front of me and start my own miniature Lamaze class. Hee Hee Hooo. Hee Hee Hoooo. A man sits next to me, gazing over from time to time as I expand my diaphragm and attempt not to panic.

"Miss, are you alright?" He's waving a hand in my face and it's only making me more nauseas.

I turn to him to tell him. I turn and I stop breathing. I turn and my eyes bulge out of my head and before we've even taken off, before I even heard the roar of the engines turning on – I manage to puke all over the man next to me. He looks at me, astonished, just as the women I remember from the front of the flight walks past.

"Holy," She raises her hand to her mouth before grabbing me by the wrist and pulling me to the front of the cockpit. She's talking faster than I imagined her sweet voice could, she's telling everyone around her that she's got a nervous flier. I'm just trying to breathe.

The next thing I know I'm standing in a small metal looking mini kitchen. Bottles of water are being shoved in my face from three different directions. I grab a hold of one and press it against my head.

"Have you flown before?" There's a male stewardess in my face. (Stewardess? Steward? Homo? Whichever.) I shake my head no.

"Are you alone?" I shake my head yes.

"How old are you?" I'm tempted to speak up and say, 'If we're playing 20 questions these should only be yes no.' But instead I hold up nine fingers on my hands – hoping that they realize they need to add 10 to the number I hold up. It works and they do. "19." The man says out loud. I hear the engines rumble beneath me. Aimee looks at the steward(ess) with a helpless look on her face.

"I don't know where to sit her," She's hissing at him as he buckles into his flight seat and prepares for take-off as the pilot has so calmly announced over the intercom. I, on the other hand, am back to thinking I might puke. People are beginning to look down the aisles at me – obviously not concerned with my well being, but more with the fact that I might hold up the plane.

A light dings above our heads as Aimee and I make our way back down the aisle. She's holding me like I might pass out – for a second I wonder if I should. Aimee presses the same button that just made the noise and holds up one finger. "One moment," Her voice is back to sugary sweetness.

The person beneath the light snaps his fingers; I watch as Aimee rolls her eyes. "Yes?" She speaks through grit teeth.

"There's a seat open here, it's my mates, but he's not come along." The voice sounds familiar, I can't put it together, but without even realizing it I've pushed Aimee away from it and sat down in the seat. It's First Class, and much nicer than the cramped space I'd been sitting in before.

Aimee, grateful that I'm out of her hands, makes her way back to the male steward(ess) and gives him the go ahead for the plane to take off. I rub my temples and press the button next to me. I fall backwards instantly.

The person next to me laughs. "You can't have your seat down for take off."

I roll my eyes behind my closed eyelids, "I don't think they'll care, I just vomited."

"So I smelled." I cringe at the person's response, sitting up to get a better view of who had large enough nostrils to smell my puke all the way at the front of the plane. The boy staring back at me has the brightest and bluest eyes I've ever seen. It takes everything in me not to gasp at how beautiful they are. Across his forehead are locks of dirty curls beneath a green knitted beanie. He beams at me and his teeth are straighter than my own. I lift my fingers up and rub them along my gums, willing my teeth to be as straight and as white as his.

He leans over me and presses the seat button. My seat flies up to meet me. I scowl at him. He's sitting leaning over me, his elbow brushing against my stomach. "Trust me, it doesn't matter what you've done they won't let you lay down if they won't let me lay down." I want to ask him what he means but he's already backed up and placed his hand out for me to shake.

"Danny," He says his name like he's not sure if it's his own.

"Team," I say it the same exact way – wondering if it's a joke or not. Obviously he thinks it's a joke 'cause he's burst out laughing.

"Excuse me?" He chokes out between chuckles.

"Team."

"As in, Go Team!" He throws his hand into the air for effect.

"Yes, as in Go Team!" I do the same, a little less enthusiastically and more along the lines of 'you just said the same thing that everybody I've ever met says.'

"Do you like that name?" His eyes are bearing holes into my dull brown ones. I shrug my shoulders. I know my real answer; I do like my name. I like the fact that it makes it sound like Em and I have a whole load of kids and siblings. I like the fact that it makes us sound like more than just a two member family; it makes us sound like a happy family of four or maybe even five. But instead I pipe up, "I don't know. Do you like your name?"

Danny thinks about it for a bit, "I don't mind it." He shrugs and I shake my head and return to trying to open the water bottle Aimee gave to me beforehand.

Danny reaches over and snags the water bottle from my grip; opening the top in one go.

"I loosened it for you," I say sarcastically. Danny cracks a smile and hands it back to me. As I throw my head back to gulp down a large sip I catch a view of the window next to him and nearly spit out my water. "We're in the air!" I almost scream it, but quickly remember that I'm in First Class.

Danny nods his head and smirks. "See what a fit bloke can do to a girl?"

I'd answer with something sarcastic but I'm too busy digging my nails into his arm.