The image of the crowd bothers Lee. Who cares what other people are doing? — that's unkind, but she can't help thinking it. It's not like the animation is that exciting, either, it's only an imagining, and she tries to think about what it must be like on the inside, in real life. She's struck most with the thought of the smell. She'd asked him that once, what do you think it smells like on the moon. She thinks about things like that instead of what if something goes wrong?
“Who, them? Who knows how anyone does anything.”
It's getting closer, and Lee does not intend to miss this, so she struggles mostly upright so she can see whatever shows up correctly, not sideways. She still leans against him, her head against his. Her hand seeks out his and her fingers wrap around his. It's so quiet in her head, like even the man who's been yelling at her for four days straight is awed by what's happening so far above their heads.