"You remind me of the ocean." That was my best friend,  but the gum-popping at the end of her words wasn't what endeared her to many. For me, it was the endless nights of movie marathons. All romance. We never missed a Friday night, not even the time she got grounded for sneaking out with her boyfriend. Thanks, Netflix!

I set my plastic fork down. "Why the ocean?"

"Because you're salty, answer the question already."

Here it was, the question I had tried to avoid, the question that proved harder than any of my AP classes so far. Who do you like...like-like? I knew the answer as clear as day.

"You caught me," I laughed. Last chance. "His name is Luke. Picture Breakfast Club's John, but in a more artsy way. Oh, oh my god, now I can tell you. He showed up to class and in these patchwork jeans and Mrs. Sanders—what?'

"Your movie moment is finally here! Are you going to talk to him?"

"I usually do."

"No, talk to him."  She scooped up my trash and placed it on her tray. "And text me everything before tonight, because you know I won't be able to wait."

Art was unusual right from the get-go, but not because I was going to confess I had a crush on Luke. Our class mostly focused on painting techniques, but when a curly haired blond stood at the front of the class I knew something was up. Cute, real boy band type.

"Oh, must be figure drawing day," Luke said as he strolled up to the seat across from me. He winked and went on. "If we were in college, well, you know..."

I feigned a smile, it would be so much easier if I did like him. Instead of my tables co-star Sydney. She was my other seatmate, and the only skill I mastered this year was sneaking a glance at her without turning my head. Volleyball season was over so she now safely wears heels. They added inches that made her look even more divine.

Meanwhile, I sat on my feet like I needed a booster seat. Mrs. Sanders introduced our model and gave us official instructions before we all pulled out our sketchbooks.

Our two-hour block was filled with fluid sketches and carefully smooth shading. Since the model wasn't nude, I focused on the details of the face, hands, and arms. I also might have elected to draw Sydney instead.

I'd lost track of time when I heard someone speak. "Wow, I think you're really beautiful," Sydney said softly at first. I looked up, stunned. "I mean, your art. Your art is beautiful." She nervously chewed on her lip as my blush deepened.

"You aren't mad?"

"What? No, of course not." She pulled her braid forward, twisting her fingers between the free strands at the end. "I've never felt like a model before."

"You were right the first time, I think you're really beautiful." Maybe this was my movie moment, and I should just dive in. As the story goes, these waters were pretty great.