Michael: “Michael, can you come here for a minute please?” Michael, the emo kid in your class slinks up to the teacher’s desk, which happens to be right beside yours. You try not to eavesdrop, but it’s unavoidable. “Michael… this is very good, no doubt, but a little inappropriate for school. Don’t you think?” He chews on his lip, staring at his own sketch pad. “I think it’s alright. Nothing’s showing.” The teacher breathes out exasperatedly and hands it back to him. “Next time, try to keep it PG, okay?” He nods at her and drops his sketchbook at his desk, before heading off to the bathroom. The bell rings, signaling the class change and everyone files out of the room quickly, leaving only you. Now, being snoopy is not in your nature, but this is getting the best of you. As you walk past the book, you casually open the top, revealing the sketch of a girl. She’s laying in a bed, covered by a sheet. The only thing that’s in color is her hair and eyes. Now that you notice, the hair looks really similar to yours…. and…. the eyes do too…. “Ah-hem.” Michael gives you a judging look, and you let the top fall closed quickly. “It’s very good!” You chirp out nervously. He smirks at you and gathers up his stuff. “So, if you don’t mind me asking…. who’s the girl?” He looks to you slowly. “Who does it look like?” You swallow hard and rack your brain for any celebrity that looks similar to you, but you can’t think of anyone. “She’s… this girl I kinda like.” He fills in for you. “Oh…. do I know her?” He winks at you, and says, “I think you might.”
Luke: As you and your best friend stroll through the art gallery at your school, you slow down when you get to the student exhibit. Most of the pieces are pottery and sculptures, but there’s one that a portrait made of watercolors. It’s a girl with hair like a mermaid and bright eyes. As you look more closely, you notice that the curves of her face look really familiar. “That looks like you!” Your best friend almost shouts. You turn to her, shaking your head, but she persists. “I’m serious! Look!” She points out all of the similarities, down to the shape of the nose and the identical shape of your nose. “Who painted this?” As you search for a nameplate, a guy steps up behind you. “I did.” You both whirl around, and Luke, the quiet guy from your art class, is standing there. “It’s… uh…. It’s beautiful.” He looks at the ground and smiles. “Well, the model that I used is beautiful, so it wasn’t much of my doing.” You look at your friend suspiciously. “And who was the model?” He grins and starts to walk away. “I’m not sure she knows I even exist.”
Calum: “Would you hold still please?” You’ve been squirming for an hour while the school futball star, Calum, has been attempting to draw you. Your teacher had assigned you as partners, and you’re not sure if you’re happy because he’s cute or upset because it’s taking so long. She said it just had to be a rough sketch, but Calum looks like he’s been pulling muscles trying to create your likeness. “Okay. I’m done.” You spring up from the uncomfortable chair and practically run over to the sketch pad. What you see is a perfect sketch of you in pencil, complete with shading and fine details. “What the…” You’ve never seen his work, but you assumed since he plays sports that he wouldn’t be that great at drawing. Guess that’ll teach you not to judge a book by it’s cover. “It’s great, Calum.” He looks at you and chuckles. “Didn’t know I had it in me…” He stands up and gathers his gear up for practice. When he leaves, you flip through the different papers on the easel, and see one, two…. three sketches. All of them are of you, so for a moment, you think that they were failed attempts, but then you see that the background and seating position is different. In one, you have on a band t-shirt that you wore two days ago. Suddenly, a hand reaches out and grabs the sketches. “I’ll take those.” Calum looks slightly embarrassed. You lift your eyebrows at him and he just shrugs. “What? I needed practice.”
Ashton: ”Ashton! Let me see, come on.” You and your best friend Ashton are sitting at work tables in the back of our art room. You’re tie-dying a shirt, and he’s drawing. After you add the last bit of dye to your shirt, you close it in a zip-lock bag to set. He’s still scribbling away with some charcoal. “Okay, can I see now?” He just shakes his head and continues. “Nope.” He’s like this with all off his work. “Please?” He sighs and lays down the piece of charcoal, turning the pad to where you can see. A smoky face with heavily drawn eyes and lips takes up most of the page. As you stare at it, Ashton smiles. “Yep. Got it just right.” You look up at him confused. “Got what right?” He just smirks. His eyes move from your face to the drawing and back again. “Everything.”
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