Worth Solving {Dylan O'Brien}

Chapter Thirty-Three

A/N: I'll be off of Wattpad for the next week because of a camp i'm going to and I think my duffle bag is about as heavy as me. Here's 33 xx -Melissa

33.

{Genesis' P.O.V.}

"How many aeroplanes do you take in a year?" I asked, shutting the window panel on the billowing clouds around the aircraft. I rolled my head to the side, seeing Dylan with ruffled hair that he hadn't put any product in.

"Uh," Dylan closed the magazine in his hands, setting it on the tray in front of him. "A lot, why?"

"I'm just curious." I smiled a little, "Can you give me a rough estimate?"

"Well, this year was more than last because of the movie as well as Teen Wolf." Dylan rubbed his jaw, narrowing his eyes in thought. "Plus I had to go to LA a few times. So, maybe fourty?" 

"That's insane." It sounded about right though. I didn't really do much and I had been on quite a few in just a couple of months. "What's your favourite place?"

"What," Dylan laughed, "Is this twenty questions?"

"It might be." I replied, "Personally I really love Edinburgh." 

"Alright, well, I think that New York City is really nice." Smiling, he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "You would like it." 

 "You were there one time, I think, when we just talked." 

Dylan grinned, "It was a Teen Wolf convention at the end of March, and some weird number came up on my phone. Weird girl was on the other line, too. Beautiful accent, though." 

"But you kept talking to her."

"And then I fell in love with her." He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine softly, smiling as he pulled away. 

 "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Baton Rouge. The temperature outside is 80 degrees Fahrenheit and sunny. It is currently 4 p.m. central time. Thank you for flying with us. We will be landing soon, as our descent has already begun." An air hostess came over the PA system, sounding cheery enough to scare a small child.

"What is 80 in Celsius?" I asked Dylan, wishing I had payed more attention in science in school. 

Dylan furrowed his eyebrows for a moment, "27, I think." He looked a little amused with me, "How do I know that and you don't? You know everything."

"I don't know everything." I rolled my eyes, putting the tray table back to the seat in front of me and locking it into place.

"You know nearly everything." He stated, his voice not leaving room for an argument. "They must really kick your ass in those preppy English schools." A grin fell across his lips, "Did you have to wear a uniform?"

"Don't hate on the uniforms, okay? They make a school look more polished that way." I defended, laughing at the look Dylan had. "Shut up. They're proven to decrease bullying, in every school but mine."

"Is that scientifically proven?" Dylan asked, "Just your school is exempt."

"Or just me. That's closer to it." I shook my head a little, "But Oxford was a lot better, for sure."

"Why were you bullied?" Dylan took my hand in his, absently playing with my fingers.

"There was this girl in upper form that was in love with my brother. Now, he was five years older than me, but he was already in his last year. To put it short, he told her that he didn't like her and she took it out on me." Mollie Rosen will always be a terror in my memory. "After she started making the school hate me, it sort of stuck until I got to university."