I walked into his bedroom. It was already 3 o'clock in the afternoon, and thought it might be best to get them up. They'd probably stayed up into the wee hours of the morning, doing who knows what, but it was late. As I walked into his room, I saw them. They were lying on the bed, her head on his chest and his arms wrapped around her. One might wonder why I allow my 16 year old son to sleep in the same bed with his very female best friend, also 16. The sad part is, I really don't have to worry about either of them. They've known each other since they were four, been friends since age six, best friends from age eight, and having sleepovers ever since. They stay up in the wee hours of the morning eating junk food from the fridge, playing videogames, and one time I caught them at it, talking. They've both grown up in the past few years, at least physically. She'd been first, and it'd been almost funny how shocked he'd been. His best friend had turned into a knockout, what could he do? But he followed soon after, growing into his gangly frame, and filling out. They ignored the changes in each other's bodies, and nothing between them changed.

I wonder how long before it does.