If America Wasn't Selected: A Selection Fanfic

Chapter Twelve: America

I woke up for a few seconds in my hospital bed. A million things were going on. IV's were being stabbed into both of my arms, nurses and doctors murmured in front me, and the cardiac monitor slowly beeping, mapping my heartbeat.

"She's awake!" exclaimed one of the nurses. She and a whole team of doctors rushed towards me, checking my monitor, and flushing more fluids into my IV bag.

"America, are you okay?" One of them asked.

"America, we're going to have to ask you some more questions," another said.

I couldn't handle the commotion. I fell into a dreamy sleep, too tired to talk or think. I let my mind control the rest.

The horizon slowly swallowed the sun as the shining moon took over the starry night sky. I crawled into the treehouse, waiting for my one true love.

"Aspen," I called. "Aspen, I'm here!"

Someone began to crawl into the treehouse. But it wasn't Aspen.

It was Maxon.

"Maxon?" I questioned, slightly disappointed that he showed up instead of Aspen. "What are you doing here?"

Maxon half-smiled. "I wanted to see you."

I scoffed. "Why? You have Celeste, and thirty-four other girls to tend to. I'm just - just the musician."

He shook his head, baffled. "Why not see you? And besides, a handful of those girls had died, remember?"

"Oh," I murmured. "Yeah. I forgot. Sometimes, dreams feel like the only escape from real life. But some monsters still get through," I confessed, blurting out what seemed like a poem.

Silence.

"I'm sorry, that was so stupid," I said.

Maxon shook his head. "No it wasn't. It actually made sense."

I laughed. "Really? I'm kind of stupid when it comes to -  talking."

"Shut up," he said.

"What?"

"Shut up. You're not stupid at anything."

I felt flattered. "Maxon -"

"America, the one thing I hate is when people talk bad about themselves."

"Okay," I said. "I won't anymore."

Maxon nodded. "Good. Now, who is Aspen?"

"I think that the more important question is, why are you in my secret childhood treehouse? In Carolina?"

Maxon stifled a laugh. "This is a dream, America. Anyone can do what they want in it."

"Sure. But, to answer your question, Aspen is my boyfriend." I caught my mistake in mid-sentence, and then corrected myself. "I'm sorry, I mean Aspen was my boyfriend." It was really weird how life tried so much to intrude into our dreams.

"Was?" Maxon had noticed my correction.

I sighed. "Yeah. He was cheating on me with another girl."

Maxon gasped. "That's awful. No one should treat you like that."

I smiled, flattered once again. "Really?"