One day, this girl is sitting in art class across the table from her friend.
They do not have the same friends in the hallways at school. Nor do they have the same amount of friends.
Maybe this girl is like: The Callous Hippie.
Maybe her friend is like: The Conformist NonConformist.

However, for some reason, when she is around him, in art class, she always sings. She is quite silly. She is not like this in her other classes or with other people. She is quite subdued in school, otherwise. But Art class is her big escape. She sings the Beatles a lot. Today, she sings "Paperback Writer." She thinks he glances at her when she sings "And his clinging wife doesn't understand."
"Don't give me that," she thinks grouchily. "I'm not you're clinging anything, I am your friend, you know we could be better friends, and you could actually acknowledge me in the hallways when I try to say hello to you."

She sings, Help and
A Hard Day's Night and Hey, You've Got to Hide Your Love Away

But then a strange and unusual thing happens. She notices that he's not looking very well, and she hears him say "Will you please stop singing, I'm getting a headache."
She stops and she says, "Are you okay? You look like you're not feeling well. What's wrong?"
"Nothing, nothing."
"What is it?"
"Oh its nothing."
"Are you sure? Is anything wrong? You can tell me."
"No, I don't feel like talking about it."
"Are you sure???"
"Yes."
"Well...okay..."

And then it is quiet all the rest of the time until the bell rings, and maybe he says "That helped with my headache, when you quit singing, thanks," and he bolts for the glorious freedom and safety of...his hallway friends.