And there we are, kissing in front of the fountain, arms around each other. And at that moment—we ignored everything else. There was no outside world. We were it. And it was just like the couple from the first frame we bought.

You know...the ones who met in the foyer of their building...

The ones who ended up living opposite each other...

The ones who used pizza as a way to get closer...

I laugh and show Madison.

She covers her mouth with her hand and flicks her gaze between the phone and me.

“Look at that,” I say, my eyes on hers. “We’re loving freely.”

***

The woman sent the picture to my phone, and Madison and I spent the rest of the afternoon taking selfies. She snorted when I said the word ‘selfie,’ like the word didn’t really exist. I was about to laugh at her and ask if she’d been living under a rock for the last few years, but then I realized...maybe she actually had been...living under a rock, I mean. It would explain why she seemed to have no clue what the hell Facebook was.

Of course, I’m curious about what had changed—and how she’s managing to rent an apartment when she’s unemployed. But my feelings for her completely outweigh my curiosity.

It’s almost dawn when we leave the park. Madison’s been quiet on the drive home, so I figure she’s just thinking about the day...hopefully thinking about me, just like I’m thinking about her. We stop by a photo-printing kiosk to print off all the pictures we’d taken from my phone. “I can’t believe this is what I look like!” she’d said at one point.

I asked her how she didn’t know what she looked like.

She just shrugged.

Sitting next to me, she rests her head on my shoulder while she waits for me to go through them all.

“You okay?” I ask her.

“Yeah,” she whispers. “I’m just tired.”

I kiss her forehead, tasting the sweat that’d formed. She blinks a few times, trying to focus her gaze. “You sure you’re okay?”

She smiles and nods reassuringly. “Let’s just print them and take them home. We can look at them there.”

She sits in silence for a good five minutes while I curse at the photo machine that keeps fucking up and rebooting.

“Ky,” she whispers.

I stab my finger on the touch screen, annoyed at its lack of co-operation.

“Ky,” she says again.

“Yeah?” I answer, distracted.

“I don’t feel well.”

I quickly turn to her.

All color has drained from her and she’s covered in sweat. Her breaths are short and sharp. Her head droops like she doesn’t have the energy to hold it up. I jump out of my seat and squat down in front of her. She struggles to keep her eyes open. “Ky,” she whimpers.

And my heart stops.

“I need...”

“What baby? What do you need?”

She swallows—but it looks like a struggle. “I’m dizzy.”

“Okay.” I try to stay calm—for her. On the inside, I’m breaking. “Let’s just get you home, okay?”

She does her best to nod.

I grasp her hand and try to help her to stand, but she’s dead weight in my arms and falls back in her chair. “Maddy! You have to tell me what to do! What’s wrong? What can I do?”

“I need...”

I hold her head in my hands and search her face. “Need what, Maddy? Talk to me!”

She weeps and pushes my hands away. Then she tries to stand again. She only gets half way before she grasps her seat and uses it to soften her fall to the floor. She lets out another sob.

I link my fingers behind my head and look back down at her. She’s almost lying on the floor now. “I don’t know what to do, Maddy.” I pull out my phone and start to dial 911. “I’m calling an ambulance.”

Her hand shoots up. “No, Ky! Please.” She cries harder.

“Why!”

She shakes her head. “Just, please.”

The store clerk rushes up and stands beside me. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know!” I almost shout. My panic spikes as I see Madison’s eyes start drifting shut. “I don’t know,” I repeat.

The clerk squats in front of her and holds two fingers to her wrist, her other hand going to her forehead.

“What are you doing?” I ask, even though I knew the answer; she’s doing what I should been doing, but I’m too terrified to think straight.

“My name’s Paula,” the clerk says. “I’m pre-med over at Jefferson. I can show you my ID.”

I wave her off. “It’s fine.”

“What’s her name?”

I squat down next to Paula and take Madison’s other hand. I choke on my words, then regain enough composure to answer her. “Madison. Her name’s Madison.”

“Did she tell you if she had trouble breathing?” Paula asks.

“No. She said she was dizzy. She’s sweating though, and she keeps blinking. Does that that help?”

“Madison?” Paula croons, rubbing her hand along Madison’s forehead. “Can you hear me okay?”

Madison lifts her head, then lets it drop again.

“What the fuck is happening to her?”

Paula ignores me, instead ordering me to get a can of soda and an energy bar from the vending machine. I do what she asks, tearing the packet open on the way back.