I hated planes - the close quarters, the food, the smell...everything about them. Not to mention that my ears plugged every time we took off or landed, and I was guaranteed to throw up at least 3x from motion sickness on every trip.
"Oh man, how did I get stuck seated next to you?!" Heather asked incredulously, shaking her head. "I rigged the friggin' draw!"
"Sucker!" Lara laughed from behind, sticking her tongue out at Heather. "That's what you get for trying to scam us!"
I closed my eyes as my best friends continued to talk amongst themselves, thinking happy thoughts and trying to push away the nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach. There were four of us in total - Heather, Lara, Daisy and myself - and this was our first trip together in over 4 years. We had grown up together in the small town of Brantford, Ontario, but had gone our separate ways for University and College - the first time we'd been apart in over 15 years. When we tearfully said our goodbyes, we had made a pact to travel together after graduation. Fast forward to four years later, and here we are, aboard Air Canada Flight 227 bound for Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.
"Vanessa, are you going to be okay?" Daisy asked me softly, peeking out from behind my seat.
I nodded. "I'll be fine, thanks. Just let me know when we get there."
I pulled the window shade down next to me and got comfortable in my seat, preparing to fall asleep for the remainder of the flight.
***
About an hour later, I was jerked awake when the plane was caught in turbulence. I sat upright, clutching my arm rests tightly and taking deep breaths.
"Relax, Vanessa. This is perfectly normal," Heather said with a reassuring smile, rubbing my back.
I nodded in agreement, about to reply, when my face suddenly contorted and I knew what was coming next.
"What?? Why are you making that face?" Heather furrowed her brows, not able to read my expression.
I fumbled with my seatbelt and finally pulled it off before rising and covering my mouth, hoping she'd get the picture and get out of my way.
"Oh shit! You're gonna throw up!" she exclaimed in horror, hastily removing her own seatbelt and jumping out into the aisle.
I ran to the nearest lavatory, only to find it was occupied. As was the one on the other end of our section. I panicked, sure that I was about 10 seconds away from puking on the poor passenger in front of me. 'Why the hell did they remove barf bags?!' I wondered, just as Lara appeared out of nowhere, pulling me into the Executive Class wing and pushing me through a lavatory door.
"Don't worry, the airline hostess said you could use it," she explained, reading my mind. "Need me to come in with you?"
I shook my head, thankful that I had such concerned friends, and shut the door behind me.
***
What a mess. My sallow face stared back at me through the mirror above the sink, my mascara wet and smeared from tears and my lips chapped from all the rinsing and scrubbing post-puke. Ugh. I hated planes.
Knock-knock.
Damn. I had forgotten Lara was waiting for me outside. "Just a second!" I called out, dabbing at my eyes and checking the toilet one last time for any remnants of this morning's breakfast. Yuck. I pushed away the thought before it brought on another wave of sickness.
I stepped outside expecting my girl friend, only to bump into a gorgeous man - er, boy? - waiting patiently for me to finish.
"Sorry," I mumbled, looking down and turning away quickly. I was embarrassed that I wasn't supposed to be in his section, and more embarrassed that he had probably already made his own assumptions as to what took me so long in the washroom. I made my way back to my seat, praying that he wouldn't recognize me once we were off the plane.
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