I stared up into his grey-green eyes, my heart pounding as his strong hand gripped my shoulders. Dizzy, the ground swayed beneath me. The smell of cigarettes hung thick in the air as he leaned closer in. Taking the plunge, I stretched upward—closing the gap between our faces. Our lips met, softly parting and moving in gentle circular motions. My stomach flipped and flopped as I paused to take in the wonder of the moment. He pulled away and looked questioningly into my eyes—searching for the cause of my sudden withdrawal. I smiled and we were back to kissing, molding our mouths to each other's. a faint musical tinkling surrounded us, a melodic bell insistently ringing. The music grew louder as our kisses became rougher, harder. I pressed my body into his, he wound his arms around me, holding me tight against his chest. The music was now unbearably loud, too hard to ignore. In an instant we were unwound from each other, I stood plainly in front of him as he answered his cell phone, he glanced quickly at me as he turned and walked away—talking into his phone in his brisk British manner.

I started, looking up at the familiar walls and ceiling that comprise my room. My sheets were wound tight around me, my pillow relocated to the floor. Across the room on my desk, my cell phone was still ringing. In a wave of reality I realized my lovely make-out session with Rob Pattinson had been a dream. Sighing, I extracted myself from my bed sheets and raced to answer my phone. Too late—already gone to voicemail and blinking "1 Missed Call," I grabbed it and sank back onto my bed, trying to remember every detail of my wonderful dream. It had felt so real, played with all my senses, but of course, only in my dreams would someone like Rob consider kissing someone like me. I dejectedly stared at myself in the mirror and made faces at myself. My light brown hair was flat and straight, hanging lankily past my shoulders. My skin was pale, but in no way pristine, with bright pink cheeks dotted with freckles. My light caramel eyes were round and fringed with dark lashes. I exhaled and blew my cheeks out, I looked utterly normal. The essence of plain. The sort of pretty that is unnoticed, and not even pretty. In the real world, Rob Pattinson would never even look at me. He'd be way to busy in his world of glamorous parties, bubbling champagne and leggy blonde models to see me. Plus, he was about 400 miles away in sunny L.A. while I froze in foggy San Francisco.