But why am I, Chloe Sanderson, resident of Columbus, Ohio, and no one all that special, gracing the pages of People.com?

Because my best friend wrote a movie about me.

Okay, so Annie maintains that the movie isn’t about me so much as inspired by me, and she’s right. But anyone who knows me and sees the trailer can see the similarities. The movie’s lead character, Zoe (come on, Annie), has a stubbornly, almost annoyingly positive attitude, even in the face of rude customers or family tragedy. She works in a coffee shop. She takes care of her sick father, although Zoe’s father has cancer, while mine has Alzheimer’s.

But there are a few key differences between Zoe and Chloe. Zoe is at least four inches shorter than me, with hair that has clearly been professionally styled. She has a team of stylists picking out her artfully vintage clothing, whereas I stick to the Anthropologie sale rack, where all the truly bonkers stuff lives. Oh, and Zoe makes out, and falls in love, with her boss, Rick.

The names, Annie. You couldn’t have changed those names?

“Put your phone away. You’re working.”

Nick is so close I can feel his breath on my face. He smells, as usual, like coffee and this aftershave I’ve never smelled anywhere else, something that feels old-fashioned (like a grandpa) but kinda hot (not like a grandpa).

I jump, startled by his proximity, and shove my phone in my apron pocket. Nick and I do not talk about the movie; it’s like the elephant in the room, if that elephant were making out with one of its elephant coworkers.

There are a few people clustered around tables, but still no one in line. “Ah, yes, things are bustling,” I say, gesturing at the nonexistent line. “I wouldn’t want to ignore anyone.”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” he says, staring at me for what seems like a beat too long. Or maybe it isn’t.

The thing is, this ridiculous movie my best friend wrote (wow, that sentence will never stop sounding weird) has really screwed up a lot of things for me. Things I never thought about before, like whether Nick is sexy or whether his smile means something or what his perpetual five o’clock shadow would feel like on my cheek . . . all of a sudden those thoughts are in my head, and I don’t like it. I’m just trying to work over here, you know? This is my job, and I need this to make money for the business classes I’m moving through at a glacial pace.

A new song starts playing: “Steal Away” by Robbie Dupree.

“Chloe,” Nick says, his voice a low growl.

I straighten an already straight stack of cups to avoid looking at him. Why is he so close to me? Why does his voice naturally sound like that? My mind jumps automatically to the listicle I read on Buzzfeed yesterday: “Ten Reasons Why Rick from Coffee Girl is #relationshipgoals.” Since the movie’s not out yet, it’s based entirely on the trailer, which I’ve watched approximately 9,756 times (give or take a few), mostly late at night when I’m trying to sleep and I feel like punishing myself. Reason #6: His voice sounds like he wants to argue with you and rip your clothes off. Maybe at the same time.