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October 21st, 1991 — Houston, TX 10:30 AM, CST
Shelby leaned over a trash can, hurling the contents of her stomach out after having undergone two hours of antigravity training. They'd spent the morning in the aptly-named "Vomit Comet," a plane that took the future astronauts through a series of rollercoaster-like maneuvers in the sky to simulate a lack of gravity. There was no possible way to completely get rid of gravity on Earth, but the Vomit Comet was as close as NASA had gotten.
In the three weeks they had been in Texas so far for spaceflight training, Shelby had mastered everything except the antigravity training. She'd be damned if the Vomit Comet would be the thing holding her back from the moon. It wasn't for a lack of trying — Shelby was as tenacious as the shuttle she'd be riding in. Where her heart was, and brain wanted to be, her stomach just wasn't there yet.
Adam walked over to her, a bottle of ginger ale in his hands. His face was pale, and his hair disheveled. The redhead wasn't the only one that was having a hard time with the training.
"Here, you look like you could use this," he said kindly, handing her the bottle.
Shelby washed her face in a nearby sink, then took the drink from him. Her hands shook as she uncapped the bottle and raised it to her lips. "Thank you."
"Not exactly what I had in mind," he admitted as he took a seat on the concrete floor.
"It's just one more hurdle on our way to the moon." Shelby remained ever hopeful. She knew she could get through it — she knew every one of them could. "I just," she paused for a moment. "I hate feeling so weak. They already didn't want me on this flight, and I ... I don't want to prove them right."
Adam took a drink from his own soda bottle. "Shelby, you might be the strongest one of us here. Two hours in the Vomit Comet would be enough to unsettle even the toughest of stomachs." He slid his hand over to her's, giving it a quick squeeze. It was the most physical contact they dared to show on NASA property.
"It doesn't make me feel like shit any less, though," she said, leaning her head against the wall.
"Mitchell! Colewell! Let's go!" Dr. Feldstein's booming voice echoed through the hallway, and both of the NASA employees sprang to their feet.
7:45 PM, CST
"Hey, Colewell! Drinks?" One of the other Tenacity astronauts, an Air Force man named Chris Walker, had knocked on Shelby's door just after she'd gotten out of the shower.
"Drinks? Now?" Shelby was dressed in one of Adam's old Cambridge t-shirts and a pair of shorts, and her red curls were still soaked from her shower. She crossed her arms over her chest, hoping Chris wouldn't notice the school on her chest.
Chris was dressed in nice pants and a tie, and Shelby noticed one of the other astronauts behind him. "Yeah, we're all going. Me, Mitchell, Wilson, Dr. Feldstein. Gives us a chance to explore Houston."
