Butterflies

Sashad and Rowan had been inseparable since before they could even speak. Their moms, best friends since high school, had gotten pregnant within months of each other, Sashad arriving in April, Rowan in July. From day one, their lives seemed stitched together by fate. Growing up on the same street, they shared everything, first steps, scraped knees, secret hideouts, and wild imaginations. If one of them was outside, the other wasn't far behind. Teachers at school joked that they came as a set, like peanut butter and jelly, never one without the other. Now, at fifteen, nothing much had changed. Sashad was a bit quieter, always lost in a sketchbook or notebook, while Rowan was the loud, adventurous type who dragged them into every new plan. They balanced each other out in the way only lifelong friends could.
But things weren't staying the same forever. Something was shifting, around them, between them. Neither of them could explain it yet, but they both felt it. Maybe it was growing up. Maybe it was something more.