The Cheese Monkeys
by Chip Kidd
This is a book I equate with the essence of the best parts if high school. It got passed all around (as a great book should be), and it felt like pretty much required reading for the teenage, slightly self-conscious art students we were.
I let a couple of English majors take a crack at it recently, and they brought up some good points about its flaws. Still a classic, and still worthy of reading if only for the gloriousness that is Winter Sorbeck.
(Fair warning: there is one, infamous part that gets downright weird.)