Ruth and Scott were in her room, listening to the Dazzler album.

Their hands were intertwined and they weren't speaking. They were just sitting comfortably, listening to the music.

"You okay?" Scott asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," she said, "Give me a week and I'll be upset again."

He smiled, turning his head to look at her. "You said that last week."

She laughed quietly. "Yeah, I know."

He sat closer to her, hands still intertwined. "How does it feel to be sixteen?"

"Lionel used to tell me this thing he heard from a woman," she said, "About how people don't really understand birthdays. You turn eleven, but you don't feel eleven. That's because you're also ten, nine, eight, seven, six, and so on.

"Some days you say something dumb, that's the part of you that's ten. You wanna sit on your mom's lap, that's the part of you that's five.

"Your past is always going to be a part of you. It takes a while for the present and future to kick in, but it soon does.

"The lady knew what she was talking about. Lionel told me she wanted to be a writer. I think she'd be good at it."

Scott laughed. "Only you could make your birthday painful."

She grinned and kissed his cheek. "That's why I'm great."

He laughed again, resting his head on her shoulder. "What do you wanna do, birthday girl?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. You wanna kiss again?"

He laughed once again—she seemed to always make him laugh—and leaned over, doing as she asked.

They stayed there for a while, as they had done not a few minutes before, just kissing and listening.

As he pulled away, Scott said, "I've been meaning to say. Your mutation's weird."

She raised an eyebrow. "Says the boy who can't take his glasses off when he's kissing."

She had a feeling her rolled his eyes. "That's not what I meant," he said, "I'm just saying it's odd that it only affects you when you're mad or scared."

She shrugged. "That's how I was feeling when it manifested. Maybe that's why."

He hummed, frowning, clearly thinking about it.

She scoffed, nudging him. "Come on, Dexter, it's my birthday, don't get all think-y."

He smiled. "Think-y?"

She nodded. "Yes. Think-y."

He rolled his eyes. "Why do I like you again?"

She kissed his cheek. "Because I'm the greatest."

He laughed, looking up at her. "Yeah, you kind of are."

There was a knock on her door. Ruth played her guessing game.

"It could be Alex or Hank," she suggested.

He shook his head. "That's too easy."

She huffed. "It could be Peter, though I'm not sure if he's polite enough."

He snorted. "You're right about that."

"Come in," she called out. She'd never done that before.

The door opened to reveal Kurt. Figures.

"We are going to the Danger Room. Just for a bit of fun. Would you like to join?" They could see Warren hovering behind Kurt, looking lost; he hadn't been out of his room much.

Ruth sighed. "The Danger Room is gross."

Scott nudged her. "C'mon. Do it for me."

She looked up at him. Her Scott. Her Scott with the red glasses, the nice lips, and the supposedly grey eyes. Her Scott who liked math, dance parties, and her.

She took his hand, leading him out of the room, her other hand on her necklace.

"I'll do it for us."

a/n ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED JULY 30, 2016 BUT UPDATED TO CHANGE THE GIF

the little story Ruth told was based off of Eleven by Sandra Cisneros. I really wanted to add it in, but she didn't publish it until 1994 so I decided to tweak the way it was told.

So this was the epilogue. Book One is done. I won't say much here as there's an AFTERWORD that'll say everything.

So I guess...thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!