He’s your dad. You were on your way to New Orleans. You sit between Jack and Susan. It was not your first time flying, but you still felt sick. Jack pulled out the bag, handing it to you. You glance at him. “Really?” He shruggs. “I don’t wanna have vomit on me.” You groan but grab it. “I’m not gonna throw up.” He shruggs. “If you say so.” The plane starts to take off. You shut your eyes, a gasp leaving your lips. Your hand quickly finds Jack’s. Jack raises an eyebrow but lets your hand hold his.