If America Wasn't Selected: A Selection Fanfic

Chapter Fifteen: America

Maxon and I arrived at the airport at eleven at night.

"I can't believe the flight from Angeles to Carolina is five hours long. We will board at exactly midnight and land at approximately four fifty-seven in the morning," he explained.

I laughed. "Isn't that a bit precise?"

I had to have Maxon escort me home. I needed to talk to him about the dream I had, where he climbed into my treehouse and kissed me. Because that was huge, and I needed - needed - to share it with him.

"Yeah. So, our flight doesn't leave for another hour," said Maxon.

"Why couldn't we use one of your private jets? It'd be so much easier, rather than this crowded airport," I asked.

Maxon took a deep breath. "The repercussions of a Rebels attack are awful. The Rebels always aim to kill more Illéa citizens, but their big goal is to kill the main source of power: the king and queen. But since, um, they died, the Rebels are doing everything they can to try to kill me so that the whole kingdom will collapse. So what would they rather attack... A random airplane, or Prince Maxon's private jet?"

I laughed. "True. Good idea with the disguise, too." Prince Maxon wore a black, shaggy wig instead of his golden blonde hair. He also wore bright blue eye contacts to substitute for his chocolatey brown eyes.

"Thanks," he chuckled. "Wanna grab a bite to eat?"

"Nah. I have a fear of planes, so eating before a flight would probably make me puke."

"Oh, I see."

"Yeah."

Then, there was an awkward silence. The buzz of the people around us quieted down, and Maxon locked his eyes with me.

"Maxon, I need to tell you something," I blurted.

"Yeah?" he asked, glad that I had broken the thin layer of ice that we had created by not talking.

"Um, I had a dream about you."

Maxon laughed. "Who hasn't?"

"Um, a dream about us..."

"Oh?" Maxon questioned.

"Yeah. So, um, you crawled into this treehouse I have in my backyard. And then you kissed me." All of the words had exploded out of me, and it was impossible for me to escape from this embarrassment. I squinted my eyes shut.

"America," he began. "Everyone has that kind of dream. Whether if it's with a prince, a childhood crush, or whatever, it means nothing."

"Totally," I agreed. It means nothing.

The time slowly passed by until the plane had arrived for us to board.

I glanced at my ticket. "I'm 29B."

"29A." Maxon smiled. "We're sitting next to each other."

We settled onto the plane, and I could already feel my anxiety. "I hate planes," I groaned.

Maxon laughed. "It's okay, it's only a five hour flight."

"Shut up," I teased.

"So, what are we going to do during this long flight?"

"Talk," I answered.

"About?"

I sat up. "Let's talk about the Selection. Who are you going to choose?"

Maxon laughed. "I'm afraid that that's top secret information."

"What? I'm being sent home, there's no one for me to gossip to!"

"You tell your family, they tell your neighbors, your neighbors tell their neighbors, and soon the whole province of Carolina knows, and then it just gets bigger and bigger from there," he explained.

"I won't tell anyone! I promise," I pleaded.

"Ugh! Fine! I think I want to marry Celeste."

That pig?!?! "Oh," I said. "Nice choice."

"Thanks. I know that most of the ladies hated her."

"How? Why?" I already knew why, she was rude. Hungry for power.

"I don't know, and I don't know." Maxon chuckled. "I just know that she has to be the one person that I am meant to be with. When we kissed, it was like sparks, literally flying in the air."

That's what happened in my dream when Maxon and I kissed! I thought, a bit angry. "Yeah. Those are - the best kind of kisses."

"I agree. People who were meant to be have those kisses," Maxon said, hope in his eyes.

"Are you sure she doesn't want the crown?" I blurted. Why do I keep saying things I don't mean to say out loud?!?

"Why would you think that?"

I sighed. "I don't know. I mean, you can never trust people."

"She told me that she would never take advantage of me," Maxon protested.

That's what people say when they want the crown and not the prince, I thought. "Um, yeah. Sorry for assuming," I lied.

"Do you have any love interests?" Maxon asked, changing the subject.

"I did. My ex boyfriend, Aspen Leger. He was the one who came into my room, asking if I was okay, begging for forgiveness. He cheated on me, for who knows how long. I thought he was the one."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Maxon. "It's a shame that people cheat on others."

Like Celeste. "I know."

The plane began to move. My heart beat faster and faster, and sweat dripped from my forehead. As the plane's tires screeched along the runway, I felt like throwing up.

"America, are you okay?" Maxon asked.

I gulped. "I'm just really scared," I said.

The plane jolted, and soon we were going really fast, despite the fact that we were still on the ground. I looked out Maxon's window, and saw that the ground was getting smaller and smaller.

"Ohmygosh," I muttered. I grabbed Maxon's hand and squeezed it, releasing all of my anxiety into him, like I found comfort in Maxon.

Because I did.