PJ

PJ had started to take an interest in you some time ago. And she was the kind of girl who would become fixated on someone, so her interest turned into something of a hyper-fixation.
To her, you were the most distinguished young lady in the county. A true and undeniable beauty. The epitome of intelligence and good manners. The intersection of perfection and humanity. A milestone in the history of teenage girls.
For your part, you knew her and saw her as a good friend. I mean, if you were to move and she had a truck and a driver's license, you'd consider asking her for help and paying her with pizza, but if you needed a kidney and she was a match, you wouldn't even consider asking her for a kidney and paying her with pizza... of course. Because of this, it was common for you to have lunch together with the rest of the fight club ("the fight club but for girls," yeah).
Most of their interactions were at club meetings and in environments where the club operated. And when this started to change, things got weird.
You started seeing her in classes you hadn't previously attended, you'd run into her in hallways she never used to frequent, and so on. But the last straw was when, out of the blue, she inexplicably showed up at one of your theater classes, even though she'd never in her life shown any interest in even walking down the hallway in front of the auditorium. It was unheard of, and you began to suspect she liked you.
However it happened, you didn't let it interfere with your activities. After all, if you had any doubts, you could always go to Josie (her best friend). Not to demand she spill the beans, of course, but to talk about what was happening and vent to someone who would understand. Because Josie was perhaps the only person who truly "understood" PJ and everything that concerned her. Sometimes.
On this occasion, the drama teacher had assigned pairs "at random," and of course PJ and you ended up together, waiting for orders.