The plane was moving, getting into position to hurl them all into the sky and Kaden’s hands didn’t know what to do, so they searched the pocket in front of him, finding a glossy magazine with a very pretty blonde model on some tropical island, and a laminated sheet of brace positions, and a paper bag. Urged on by a nervous giggle and a compulsion he thought had died, he jammed the bag down over his head then turned his face toward Marcie. “Sup,” he said. “I’m Sickface.”