ON MY SIXTEENTH BIRTHDAY my mother surprised me with a set of keys to my dad's old car. It wasn't the best thing to look at, but it represented mobility and freedom. I could drive myself to school.

     "We're so proud of you, Maggie," Mom said and gave me a hug. "Congratulations on passing your driver's test."

     "Thank you! I love you." I pressed my cheek against her shoulder and squeezed as tightly as I could.

     Evan was ten, basically the most annoying age for a baby-brother. He rubbed his fingers all over the front window and mimicked me in a mocking tone. I tried my best to ignore his antics and get into the driver's seat of my car. I felt so grown up.

     My mother held Evan back and stood in the driveway.

     "Have a good day at school!" she called out with a wave.

     "I will!"

     I had changed a lot. My hair grew longer, far past my shoulders. I dressed differently and felt more comfortable in my own skin. I wasn't the shy girl I had been, but I wasn't an extrovert either. My room no longer had a corner with toys or even a pink-painted wall, instead, I had filled it with my artwork. There were a few paintings of Prince wearing purple mesh-pants and holding a guitar. A few others were a portrait of Felix holding an apple and the face of my friend Lizzy who'd turned into an incredible beauty.

    I tried to be an adult most of the time, even if I wasn't one, I wanted to act like one.

     "You are going to have to start driving me to school!" Natalie said to me in the hallway at school.

     I tried to organize the homework inside my folders. "Why don't you get your own license?"

     "I literally have no time. Between vocal coaching, acting classes, and modeling classes there is no room for driver's education," she explained.

     Natalie changed the most, she was still confident and beautiful, but she approached life differently. She didn't chase boys anymore, boys chased her. Natalie didn't give up on chasing after Gucci bags, she just decided that her success shouldn't be tied to a boy.

     "You're always free to ride with Savannah and me," Lizzy offered. Lizzy had broken her code of 'no dating until college', but she didn't break it for a boy—she broke it for a girl.

     Natalie examined her nails and curled her lips with disgust, "And watch you two be all romantic and gross? I'll pass."

     Savannah popped up from behind and rested her head against Lizzy's shoulder. "Liz, we should get to class," she said.

     Savannah reminded me of Merida from Disney's "Brave". Shockingly red-hair and a face full of freckles. Her and Lizzy held each other's hand and they had so much chemistry between them. It made my brief relationship with Kevin look like a playground crush.

     Once they left Natalie hooked her arm around mine. "You doing anything with Felix?"

     Natalie knew I had been friends with Felix and accepted it because we weren't anything more than that. "I doubt it, we don't really talk that much these days. He's turned into—"

     "The most popular guy in school?" Natalie cut-in. "Yes, he has."

     I groaned. "Please tell me you're not interested in him again."

     "I never stopped being interested in him, I just refuse to go after him," she said, following her words with a pretty smile.

     I roughly shoved my books into my locker and shut it loudly. "Take a number, he sees a lot of girls these days."

     She nodded in agreement. "True. They surround him, like ants on a cookie."

     Down the hallway, I could see Felix laughing with four other girls. One in particular he seemed to lean towards the most. What happened to the boy who danced on his bed and wore old sweaters? To make matters worse, he became incredibly hot over the span of two years. It was hard for me to just ignore him.

     Natalie and I kept the books we needed close to our chests and walked past Felix and his entourage. I held my breath just hoping he'd be too busy to see me. No such luck, he looked in my direction and our eyes met. I quickened my pace and forced eye contact to break.

     "This is my class," Natalie informed me as we neared a classroom door. "We should throw a party for your birthday."

     I shook my head. "I'm not the partying type, Natalie. That's all you. My plans are to curl up with Netflix in bed and eat ice cream cake."

     "Ever since you and Kevin broke up, you haven't tried to date anyone else. You haven't even mentioned wanting to date. I get the feeling that you aren't over him," she analyzed.

     Natalie was wrong, but not completely. I hadn't tried to be with anyone else, but not for the reasons she thought. I dared to peek down the hallway and catch a final glimpse of Felix. I didn't think about boys because I spent so much time with Felix. Who needs a boyfriend when you can have a great boy that's a friend? Or he used to be a great friend. At this point, I wasn't sure what we were.

     "Trust me, I am over Kevin," I said through my teeth.

     Natalie didn't seem convinced by my words, but the bell rang. I continued my day with the usual PS&A stress routine; notes upon notes and preparing for endless quizzes and exams. The only class I really looked forward to was art class, even though Kevin and Felix were there.

     When I entered Miss Whitman's classroom she greeted me with a warm smile.

     "Margret! I have really good news for you—" she handed me an application form, "—this is the application form for the Young Artistic Talent Foundation. Now that you are sixteen, you qualify to submit your work. If you win, they will give you a scholarship. You could get into New York University with this and pursue art professionally."

     The form in my hand no longer felt like a piece of paper, it was a golden ticket.

     "You really think I could win?" I asked her.

     She placed a hand against my shoulder and squeezed gently. "I wouldn't have shown you this if I didn't know you could win it. Everyone in my class has talent, but yours can take you places."

     Mentally, I fantasized about my future. I'd be a college-girl, mingling with people in the art world, learning European languages, and having my work displayed in galleries. My father would finally respect my life choices. I'd be far, far away from anything to do with Paulsen Research.

     The other students wandered into the room and took their seats. I hid away the application form deep into my bag; I didn't want to make anyone jealous. The last two people to arrive were Kevin and Felix. Kevin settled at his desk and chose to barely acknowledge my existence. Felix's desk still remained beside mine.

     "Hey, Maggie!" Felix said with a friendly tone of voice.

     "Hey, Felix," I said with a much less friendly one.

     I couldn't help it, I was annoyed by him. He would act all friendly in class, but we didn't talk in text or calls anymore and rarely at lunch. He was the first to start ignoring my texts and after a while, I stopped trying to contact him altogether.

     "What are you doing for your birthday?" he asked.

     I wanted to be rude to him, but there was no point. He wouldn't understand why I was mad.

     "Nothing," I said flatly.

     "I know we haven't really talked much lately, but . . . " his voice trailed off.

     He didn't get to finish his sentence, the class began. I couldn't focus because my mind kept wondering what Felix wanted to say to me.

     Miss Whitman turned in a circle looking around and after a few seconds, she sighed. "I forgot to bring the canvases and charcoal. Felix and Margret, could you two go to the supply room and bring them to please?"

     Felix and I looked between one another seemingly unsure. Miss Whitman continued to insist and we couldn't refuse. She handed us two keys attached to a large red tag. I walked a few feet behind Felix and gazed at his back all the way down to the basement staircase.

     The red door to the basement remained locked for safety reasons and students usually weren't allowed inside. Felix unlocked the door and motioned for me to go inside first. I wordlessly breezed past him.

     The inside was massive and well-lit. Large yellow, blue, and green pipes ran along with the ceilings, and all around us were thick slabs of gray concrete. It looked like a secret military base more than a high-school basement. There were a series of various crimson doors with labels for different departments and classes. The art supply room was situated right in between the kitchen and chemistry supply rooms.

     Felix unlocked the door with the second key and a small dim light turned on with a buzzing sound. Several large wooden mannequins were scattered in open boxes alongside rows of various cans of paint and tipped over canvases.

     The door shut loudly behind us and both of us were startled.

     "Well, this room is creepy," he said with humor to his voice.

     There are rare moments when I am frustrated enough to actually explode, but this had turned into one of those moments.

      I kept my voice calm and controlled. "You don't have to pretend to care about me, Felix. I'm a big girl, I can take it if you don't want us to be friends anymore."

      He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face me. "You think that's what this is about?"

      "Look, Felix, I get it. We were fourteen, now we're sixteen. You're popular, you are dating pretty girls and wanting to impress them. I don't fit into your world, I never did. I'm okay with this because—" my words were stifled by Felix lifting up his hand to silence me.

     "Shh!"

     Did he just try to hush me?

     I wanted to get really mad, but his face showed that he worried about something other than me.

     "Do you smell that?" Felix asked, reaching his hand out to hold my arm.

     It smelled like burning plastic. The smell became so strong it was nauseating. Over in the dark corner of the room, a small vent released wafting streams of smoke. The room had been so dim we didn't even notice it until then.

     "I think there's a fire in the chemistry supply room," he says quietly like the fire might hear us.

     My eyebrows shot up as I realized that I couldn't hear anything. "Why isn't the fire alarm turning on?"

     "No idea, we should go and tell someone," he advised.

     We both could agree on that. I grabbed hold of the door handle firmly and tried to give it a tug, but it wouldn't budge.

     "I guess it locks from both sides. I need the key," I said and held out my hand to Felix.

     His face shifted from puzzled to panicked. He sunk his fingers into his curls and gripped in failure. "I left the keys in the door!"

     My nostrils flared, I was panic breathing. "Are you saying we're stuck in here with a fire next door?"

     "I am sorry! I am so sorry!"

     "No . . . there has to be a way." I refused to accept it. Smoke billowed through the vents and rose to the ceiling. It'd be a matter of minutes or possibly even second before it reached us.

     Felix grabbed hold of a shelf and ran his hands along it to knock over boxes and search them. "Maybe there's something in this room that can help us break open the door!"

     It was a good plan. I tugged boxes off the shelf, one-by-one searching until we had no choice but to go to the back of the room. Everything felt like it was radiating heat and the smoke made it hard to take a breath.

     A searing, burning pain shot up through my arm. I screamed and fell to the floor clutching my arm tight against my chest. Felix leaped over a pile of boxes and lifted me into his arms like I weighed nothing. I braced myself against him by holding his neck as he drew me close.

     "Let me see it," he sounded scared but maintained control for my benefit.

     My whole body trembled. I stretched out my arm as much as the wound would allow me to and showed him my forearm. Against my skin, there was a long rectangular burn patch of red flesh.

     Felix looked helpless. He couldn't do anything for me to make it better. "Everything back there was hot, you must have brushed up against one of the metal shelves."

     I cradled my arm and rested my head against Felix's collarbone. He lowered his body down to the ground beside the door and continued to hold me. We weren't sure what would happen, but smoke inhalation seemed more than likely.

     Felix tucked a hand into his uniform jacket and pulled out a small poorly wrapped gift to place in my lap.

     I curiously matched his gaze with my own. He was so close and a part of me wished it were under better circumstances. I carefully turned over the object. My fingers hooked against the tape and tore open the gift. Inside it was a beret—a raspberry beret.

      "I . . . don't understand . . . "I could hardly speak.

      "I was going to give it to you at the beginning of class, but it's such a stupid gift," he said quietly.

      A tear ran down the side of my face, I felt like an emotional idiot. "You know, Prince said the girl with the raspberry beret was 'not too bright'. Is that what you're trying to say with this gift?" I wasn't serious, I smiled a little so he'd know that.

      He smiled back. "Yeah, he also said he loved her. Why do you focus on the one negative line in that whole song?"

     The pain didn't go away, but for that point in time, all I felt was how hard and fast my heart raced. I could feel Felix's heart pounding against me just as much as my own. My body had a mind of its own, I was no longer trying to control it. I grabbed onto his uniform tightly and pulled against his collar until the side of his face pressed against mine.

     Kevin had been right, I was in love with Felix. Foolishly, I stayed in denial for two years. I couldn't keep denying it anymore.

     BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

     The fire alarm had finally triggered, causing the sprinkler system in the room to shower down with icy water. We were going to be okay, in more ways than one.