A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews! I'm sorry it's taken me almost forever toupdate, but I had a lot of personal stuff that was making my life crazy. I'll try to be expeditious about future updates, I promise!
I don't own The Mighty Ducks, blah blah blah, but I wouldn't mind owning Matt Doherty. Just for a little bit.

It's a week after the notebook fiasco, and I am having the time of my life. Averman has just showed up at my house pulling a Lloyd Dobler, complete with Peter Gabriel blasting from a boombox. I raced downstairs to meet him and he confessed that he's been in love with me for years and can't take it anymore. Breathless with excitement, I told him I feel the same way, which led to him taking me in his arms that's where I'm at now. He looks at me, opens his mouth, and says, "Good morning."

Good morning? I finally get what I've been wishing for for the past eight years and all he says is "good morning?" No, wait. There's more.

"It's eight thirty-five on this beautiful sunny morning," he continues, "and I'm Johnny Dakota. Thanks for joining me here on KPZZ, where we always add pizazz to your day."

I curse Johnny Dakota for interrupting the best dream I've had all month.

Why did I set my alarm for eight thirty, anyway? I'm on summer vacation. I don't have a job. All I have to do today is

Today. Today is Tuesday. My birthday. I'm sixteen. And my driver's test is in an hour. I fly out of bed and run to the bathroom. Thirty minutes later, I'm showered and dressed. I do a once-over in the mirror. I look good. I look capable. I look exactly like the kind of person that should be behind the wheel of something that weighs two tons. Entrust me with your life, Mr. Driving Instructor. I'm ready.

My mom calls up the steps. "Maggie, we better get a move on. You don't want to be late!"

She's right, so I grab my bag and race downstairs. She and Charlie are at the kitchen table, finishing breakfast. I open the cupboard and grab a Special K cereal bar. I devour it in less than a minute, uttering a muffled "Thanks!" when Charlie wishes me a happy birthday, then grab a second one and stuff it in my bag. These things are awesome.

"Happy birthday, Maggs," my mom says, giving me a hug. She escorts me out to the car. "Sweet sixteen, huh? I remember when you were born. I was in labor with you for twenty-four hours; you took your sweet time coming out. And then suddenly, there you were, tiny and beautiful and perfect."

"And when you brought me home, Charlie said "

"Put her back where she came from!" We finish this story together, laughing. We reminisce the rest of the drive until we arrive at the DMV. My mom follows me inside and we fill out the necessary paperwork, and then it's time for me to take the test.

My mom hands me the car keys. "Good luck," she says, giving me another hug. "Don't hit any cones, okay?"

I roll my eyes. "You say that like they're people."

She gives me the Mom Look. "I say that like I want you to get your license. Be careful, huh?"

I nod and follow the driving instructor outside. We make sure all the lights and signals are functioning properly, and then he's in the passenger seat and it's off we go. I sail through the maneuverability part without so much as nudging a single cone and make it through the designated route with no trouble. In half an hour, I am parked in the DMV lot listening to the instructor congratulate me on becoming a licensed driver.

I did it. I can barely believe the test is over already, it was that easy, and it's all I can do to listen to the man sitting next to me finish his speech. The second I see his fingers on the door handle, I'm out like a shot, running to give my mother a hug.

"Picture," I say, barely able to conceal my excitement. I can drive! I can drive and I don't need my mother in the seat next to me! "Now."

We take the long way home, this time with me behind the wheel. I ask if we can stop for cones at Dairy Queen, and even offer to spring for both of ours.

"Baby, it's your birthday," Mom says. "You're not buying your own ice cream. Hey," she adds, pointing at an empty spot in the Dairy Queen lot, "there's an empty space."

I ignore her and parallel park on the street, just to show her how well I can do it. I didn't just get my licence for nothing.

Mom buys a single scoop of vanilla for herself and treats me to a double scoop of orange sherbet and chocolate ice cream. I force-feed her a bite, just to prove it's not as gross as it looks. I sit down at a picnic table, and she takes a seat opposite me.

I start to hum the happy birthday song to myself, then stop. That's kind of obnoxious, even if I am the birthday girl. "So," I say. "My party's tonight."

"That's right, it is. Is the whole team coming over?"

I shake my head. "Well, Dean's here, and Julie got here yesterday, but Luis's flight doesn't come in until this afternoon. Russ, Kenny, and Dwayne aren't even coming. I have to wait until fall to see them again, when school starts." The thought saddens me. Though we're not really close, Russ is one of my favorite people. Ever. I really don't want to wait another month and a half to see him. I cheer up when I realize that Luis arrives later today. I love flirting with Luis, mainly because both of us know the other doesn't really mean anything by it, and also because it gets on my brother's nerves.

We finish our cones in silence and walk to the car. I turn the radio on and pull out onto the street, backtracking several times on the trip home. What can I say? I like this driving thing.

As I pull onto my street, I can see everyone gathered around outside my house. I can't help but wonder what's going on. My confusion only grows as I see the World's Ugliest Car blocking my access to the garage. Nothing matches. The body is blue, except for the trunk and hood, which are orange and maroon, respectively. Each tire has a different, non-matching hubcap. The antennae is bent at a forty degree angle, like someone grabbed it when it was moving and forgot to let go. I park my mom's Camry and get out, peering inside the monstrosity in my driveway. The seats are disgusting, falling apart, with little bits of foam all over the place. The fabric from the ceiling is hanging down in the middle, like the windows were down for every rainfall. I can't think of a single person I know that would be willing to drive this car.

I stand up and look at my friends. "Who's car is this?"

Charlie steps forward. "It's yours," he answers, giving me a hug. "Happy birthday."

"Guys," I protest, "this is the ugliest car I've ever seen. Seriously. It's gross."

"Well, now it's your gross, ugly car," Averman says. "Happy birthday, Maggie. From all of us, to you."