We touched down in L.A. without any incident. Iggy and I were exhausted, but America was about ready to kick some ass. Or eat a few hamburgers; whichever came first.
“We should get out of the city,” Iggy said with a yawn. “I’m guessing that they’re still chasing us.”
I yawned after seeing him do so. “Maybe we could sleep first.”
He shook his head. “No, there’s no time to do that. The next flight from China lands here in about an hour.”
I pouted. “What do you think, Al?” I turned to my left. “Al?” The younger country was no longer standing next to me.
“McDonald’s line,” Iggy said, pointing to the nearest McDonald’s.
I sighed and went over to stand in line with him. I should get some food while I could, even if it was disgusting airport fast food.
While we sat and ate (England bought some food from a salad place), we decided that we would take the small flight to San Diego to throw China off of our trail. We would use fake names and IDs that America and England already had set up. I guessed that they planned a lot of this out before they rescued me. For this flight, America was Alexander Adams, England was George Churchill, and I was Lily Granger.
“Really?” I said, giving the two countries a flat look. “Who chose the names?”
“I chose mine,” both of them said, looking equally offended.
I raised an eyebrow. “Alright, well who chose mine?”
“I did,” England said, frowning slightly. “What’s wrong with our names?”
I sighed. “Well, America’s is obviously a mix of president names, yours is the name of the royal baby with Winston Churchill’s last name, and mine is just a Harry Potter reference.”
England’s jaw dropped and America pursed his lips.
“Hey, dude,” he whispered to England. “Do you think they’re too obvious?”
“Well, if she figured it out that easily…”
I rolled my eyes and smiled slightly, taking a bite out of my chicken sandwich. They were hopeless sometimes.
Twenty minutes later we were boarding the flight to San Diego. This plane was a lot smaller and only had two seats on each side, so we had to be split up. After a match of rock, paper, scissors, it was determined that America would be sitting next to the stranger across the aisle. The stranger happened to be a very attractive young woman, who he immediately struck up a conversation with.
“You’re staring,” England said quietly ten minutes into the flight.
I looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve been staring at those two ever since we boarded the plane.”
I scowled. “No I haven’t.”
England smirked. “Okay…”
I huffed and turned to look out the window. “I was not staring,” I muttered.
YOU ARE READING
Never Forget Taking the Brown Bomber Jacket
FanfictionIt's been two years since England wiped Holly Rosewood's memory and sent her back to her normal life. However, not everything is as it seems. There's someone new in town and when it comes to Holly, America and England would do anything to protect...
