Later that night we sat on a hill overlooking the city. Emily and I were on the roof of my car, staring at the distant lights.

"I'm obsessed with tacos," Emily informed me as she unwrapped her food. Three more were in the bag behind her.

I smiled tightly, hoping we weren't denting the hood.

"Oh, the stars," she sighed. "I wish I could go up there and get one. I'd name it Herbert."

I looked at her. The lights in the sky reflected off of her eyes. That familiar feeling filled my chest.

"Did--did you enjoy the dance?" I asked.

"OMG yes!" Emily threw her head back, smiling broadly. "My favorite song played."

"Yeah, I liked that, too." I sighed inwardly. I had hoped she would bring up the random kiss.

"We need to do it again sometime." Emily bit into her taco. "Oh, double dang it! I specifically asked for no taco seasoning! I hate that stuff."

I laughed in spite of myself at her interjection. Emily wrapped the taco back up in its wrapper. She then straightened the chord of her nasal cannula.

"You're not a very good kisser, you know."

I choked on my own taco. "Sorry, I haven't had much practice," I said, instantly embarrassed at my words.

Emily huffed impatiently. "I'll teach you. It's not hard."

She leaned forward as I pulled away.

"Maybe later," I said quickly.

"Oh, right," she nodded. "I forgot, you're eating your over-seasoned meat tortilla. Don't worry about it. Kissing takes practice."

I swallowed. "How are you such an expert?"

Emily shrugged. "They teach you on set."

I bit my lip. Emily was used to kissing hot TV stars. I'm surprised she didn't pull away from our exchange gagging and spitting at my averageness.

"You looked really cute out there," she said almost as an afterthought. I choked again.

"What?"

"You were awkward as a newborn deer standing for the first time. It was adorable."

"Oh." Of course she wasn't saying I was cute in an attractive way. I was glad I hadn't responded with "you too."

"You'll get it eventually," Emily told me. "We'll practice more."

I looked at her. Emily slid off the hood and reached into the car. A second later the night silence was broken by the sound of the radio blaring. I jumped.

"Come on," she held out her hand to me. I took it apprehensively.

We got into position. I stumbled around as she pulled me in a circle.

"See? Already you're doing better."

The first song ended and the opening notes to Ed Sheeran's "Photograph" began playing. Emily closed her eyes, letting the melody envelop her.

She pulled me close to her, swaying to the music.

"I've never heard this song before," I commented.

"I want this song played at my wedding," she murmured, allowing me to take the lead.

That familiar feeling hit me again.

She whispered the words in my ear. "We keep this love in a photograph. We make these memories for ourselves."

Each word was a tiny bolt of electricity in my heart. I looked at Emily's lips, suddenly willing to trade anything for them to touch mine again.

"Do I have something on me?" She questioned.

Before I could say no she reached up and wiped her mouth on my collar.

"Is it gone?"

When I got home that night I went straight to my computer and opened YouTube. I looked up New Life, New Time, Emily's TV show, and clicked on the first video. It was a five minute clip of the first episode.

My heart skipped a beat as Emily walked onto the set. She looked way younger. I imagined she was probably fourteen.

She rolled her eyes at the boy of around ten standing guiltily next to a homemade rocket.

"Teddy, what are you doing?"

The two conversed for a moment about how it would be a great prank to blow up the rocket on their older brother's date that night.

The clip ended and I watched a couple more. It seemed like Emily's character was a bad to the bone troublemaker. She was a good actress, but it was hard to imagine her as this character. I just saw the girl who I was falling in love with.

Wait. I was not falling in love with her. I couldn't fall in love with her. We were from two different worlds. I had to forget about her.

That next day I wasn't doing that great of a job forgetting about her.

"Steve!" My friend Justin shouted as I shot him instead of the opposing team on our video game. "Where is your head?"

"Her life expectancy is thirty-seven. We could have at least three kids by then," I murmured dreamily.

"What?"

I shook my head. "No, she's a TV star, for goodness sake! And she doesn't like taco seasoning, just plain ground beef."

"What are you talking about?" Justin demanded.

I sighed. "There's this girl. We went on a date and kissed but it can't go anywhere."

He set down his controller. "Well, why not?"

"Didn't you just hear me say she's a TV star?"

"How did you meet a TV star?" Justin smirked. "What's her name?"

"Emily."

His eyes widened. "Emily Davis? You're dating Emily Davis? You realize she has a boyfriend, right?"

"What?"

He pulled out his phone. "Look."

My heart sank with every picture Justin showed me. In each one, Emily was with a handsome young man. They were holding hands on the red carpet, laughing on set, kissing on the beach. Each one made me feel more and more sick.

"Who is that?" I fought to keep my voice even.

Justin looked sideways at me. "Have you been living under a rock? That's Shawn Laws. He's the most famous kid in Hollywood. He and Emily are very involved. They've been together for, like, four years."

I struggled to swallow. "D--does that make me a homewrecker?"

I stood on Emily's front porch, pacing. There had to be an explanation. Surely she wouldn't be using me of all people to cheat on the most famous young man in Hollywood.

My mind bubbled with anger every time I thought of it. I was so stupid! I knew she couldn't possibly really like me. I should have listened to my gut.

The door opened.

"Aren't you going to come in?" I heard Emily say. "You've been standing out here for half an hour."

I rounded on her. "Why didn't you tell me you have a boyfriend?"

For the first time ever, Emily was silent.

"Steve, it's complicated."

"I don't want to be your boy toy, Emily!" I shouted.

She rolled her eyes and grabbed my arm. I tried to resist but she pulled me with surprising strength back toward my car.

"Come on, Boy Toy. Grab my oxygen cart."

We reached the car and she slid into the driver seat.

"Well, get in."

I huffed but sat down on the passenger side.

I was too frustrated, and then too scared to ask where we were going as she pulled out into traffic. Emily was a terrible driver. I held onto the overhead handle for dear life as we swerved into the parking lot of a fast food restaurant five minutes later.

We parked and went inside.

"I don't have my wallet, but you're the guy, so..."

We ordered hamburgers and Emily yanked me back outside to sit in the sunshine.

"I feel like you're stalling," I finally said as we sat down at a picnic bench.

Emily sighed. "I don't have a boyfriend, okay?"

"Then who is--"

"I've been with Shawn for years, but we were drifting apart. He wants to travel the world working on every movie he can. I want to settle down. I'm sick of this fast-paced celebrity life."

I listened as Emily finished. She shook her head.

"It's over," she insisted. "I like you, Steve. I thought it was obvious."

A bit of soda dribbled out of my mouth. "R--really?"

She chuckled. "You're so dense." Emily unwrapped her burger. "Don't worry about Shawn. He's in Romania shooting a TV show. He's not in the picture anymore."

I nodded, still in shock.

Emily reached into her burger and fished out a couple of pickles. She put them on my plate. "Here is a token of my affection."

"I watched your show," I said as I bit into my own burger.

"I am withdrawing my token of affection."

"What?" I asked as she grabbed the pickles off my plate and threw them in the bushes.

"Why would you subject yourself to such torture?" Emily's face was hard.

"I liked it," I insisted. "It was funny."

"It was funny," she imitated me. "What was so funny, my coughing every two seconds?"

"What are you talking about?"

"That show is the worst thing ever," she seethed. "All they did was exploit me. They took my disease and made fun of it. They dramatised it for the world's entertainment."

"I--I'm sorry," I said quickly, "I didn't know."

"They made me reenact each day's hardships in front of the camera. I nearly died and some bigwig made a fortune off of it. I'm sick of being used. I'm never going back to TV and no one can make me."

She huffed and slouched back against her chair. "That's why I broke up with Shawn. He loves the spotlight. He wants me to be his leading lady. He doesn't see how horrible it is."

I leaned forward. "Maybe we shouldn't do the interview. I don't want you to feel like I'm exploiting you, too."

"No, it's okay," Emily sighed. "I trust you. Just don't sell it, okay?"

I nodded.