Cat and Robbie at Hollywood Arts, a fire stated and spread through the school. Credit to The Band Perry for the song If I Die Young.

The tall, lanky boy with curly black hair and nerdy glasses lay on the ground.

He wasn't moving.

"Robbie! Robbie, please! Wake up!" screamed a petite red-head kneeling by his side. Her tiny hands were clenched in tight fists around the boy's collar, trying to shake him awake.

The raging fire surrounded them, devouring everything it could reach and spreading very quickly. They're escape route would be blocked by the hungry flames in a matter of minutes.

Cat screamed in Robbie's ear again, but the boy wouldn't move. When part of the ceiling fell onto his head, he dropped to the floor, knocked out cold.

The small girl continued to shake Robbie with all her might, but the boy/man didn't open his eyes. It seemed as if he was...dead.

Fearing the worst, Cat leaned down and pressed her ear to his chest, listening for a heartbeat. She couldn't hear anything.

"You can't be dead! No!" She wailed in grief.

Suddenly a fit of coughs racked through her tiny frame. The smoke and lack of fresh air was finally getting to her.

If Robbie couldn't move, Cat would move him. She stood up and weakly tried to pull him to safety. He was too heavy for the already weakened girl and she dropped his arms.

Cat would have to leave her favorite ventriloquist.

She turned toward the door, the only exit, and stood in shock as she realized she wasn't getting out either. She was going to die.

Cat turned and calmly sat down next to Robbie's limp form. If he was still alive, he sure didn't look like it.

"Do you want me to sing for you?" Cat asked, her voice soft and rough.

"If I die young, bury me in satin.

Lay me down on bed of roses.

Sink me in the river at dawn.

Send me away with the words of a love song..." Cat sang softly.

"Robbie?" She croaked, hoping that the boy would wake up and comfort her during her last moments.

The boy didn't respond.

Cat let a river of tears stream from her eyes. The flames were closing in on them.

"Can I kiss you one more time before we die?" Cat asked.

She took his silence as a yes.

Leaning down again, she pressed her lips softly to his.

The kiss tasted like smoke and mint. It tasted like the color red. It tasted like sorrow and despair. Cat pressed her lips more firmly to his, not daring to breathe.

It was her second kiss with Robbie Shapiro. It was the best kiss she'd ever had.

It was the last kiss she would ever have.