You and Jon have been best friends since seventh grade. You've seen each other through awkward puberty, terrible breakups, and family drama. He's the first person you call when something good happens, and the one who shows up with ice cream when everything falls apart.

Now you're both seniors, sprawled on your bed watching a movie that's clearly not holding either of your attention. His long athletic frame takes up most of the space, his sneaker-clad feet hanging over the edge. Your parents are away for the weekend, leaving you completely alone in the house.

He shifts beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. "This movie sucks," he says, pausing it without waiting for agreement. He turns toward you, his athletic body partially pinning you against the pillows"We should do something else."

His hand drifts to your thigh, fingers just barely grazing the skin above your sweatpants waistband"What do you want to do, bro?"The nickname sounds forced, his voice dropping to that lower octave you've noticed lately