Puberty is psychological warfare at its finest. A barrage of chemical induced physical changes coupled with intense emotion swings make puberty the most dangerous thing in the galaxy. On some planets doctors and scientists have attempted to harness the power of puberty and its detrimental effects on the psyche of every species. It was reported that on the planet Galfrikenzix scientists experienced mild success in bottling puberty, but overexposure to the subject had made all the scientists very moody; instead of carrying their experiment out to the end they all went home and wrote sad poems on their blogs.

Those on the other side of puberty wave it off dismissively. They do their best not to remember the embarrassing revelations, the moments of profound and illogical shame, the fear of hitting someone in the face on accident when you stretch because suddenly your arms are much longer than they were last week. People on the other side of puberty sit in their chairs comfortably and say to others "Well that wasn't so bad was it?" when in fact it was the single most horrible phase of their life. Ironically once these comfy cats reach the age of fifty they'll have to do it all over again, only in reverse, but no one likes to think about that either.

It is only those who are in the trenches of puberty that understand its true horrors. Amelia Pond, human, of Earth, was one of those who understood this personalized hell the most. As her loving parents put it so blandly she had "hit puberty early." She didn't really understand the phrase "hit puberty," because if she really were able to hit puberty it would've run away screaming and never returned.

Her mother was sadistically thrilled when Amy started her first period (her father didn't want to hear anything about it, not that Amy blamed him in the slightest). Mrs. Pond kept going on and on about the transition into Womanhood and how proud she was of Amy, like it'd been her daughters bright idea to bleed uncontrollably once a month. She made it sound like the "path to becoming a woman" was something that happened relatively quickly and painlessly, but when she accounted every single earth-shattering crisis her daughter encountered to "puberty," Amy realized that this process was going to be neither.

Amy caught on pretty quickly that any sort of strange thought or impulse she experienced could be blamed on this mysterious monster "Puberty." Suddenly she was not only hyper aware of herself, her ridiculous red hair, and her legs that just would not stop growing, but she noticed everyone else. She would notice girls and mercilessly compare herself to them. She would notice boys and meticulously dissect every glance and word to see if they held any importance to her.

On top of this Amy had always dealt with a mild case of prescription grade abandonment issues, although where these issues came from no one had any idea. Amy Pond was a bright girl with two loving parents who cared for her as best as they could. Her parents quietly blamed the problem on the move from Scotland to Leadworth, but their daughter suspected differently. Ever since her vivid dreams of "The Raggedy Doctor" began, Amy always felt that something was not right, that something was missing, and that all of her happiness could be taken away from her at any moment. Puberty only intensified that feeling, just like it intensified everything else.

All in all it was an exhausting experience to go through every day, and the only sort of peace Amy found during the storms of her adolescence were with her best friends Melody and Rory. Although "peace" might have been too strong a word to use around Mels; the girl not only had a knack for getting into trouble, she actively sought it out. The amount of times Amy had sat outside the headmasters office waiting for her best friend was comparable to the amount of times a college student will use the phrase "But um," as a transition in their daily language. To be fair Melody had done her share of waiting for the little Scottish girl herself. While Amy was certainly the more grounded of the two, the pair of girls made a fearsome duo the likes that Leadworth had not seen the days of witch burning.

Rory Williams, a young boy who had appeared one day by Amy's side and had never left since, was the Blue Ranger to Amy and Melody's super-human antics; quiet, smart, endearing, but often in the way. In their early days the two girls had done their best to shake off the awkward young boy with the big nose and the uncanny ability to trip over air, but he had stuck with them through it all. The fact that Rory was still with them by the time they turned fourteen was nothing to laugh at, and the girls had become quite protective of him. He was Rory, the punching bag, the best mate, the boy.

Rory was the one Amy was with more than anyone, even Mels. Melody always wanted to do something, which was fine with the red-head most of the time. But on those occasions when it wasn't fine, Rory was more than content to do nothing with her, something Mels couldn't manage for more than an hour. On top of that Rory was becoming smarter, more studious, thus far more valuable to Amy as a tutor (something her parents appreciated).

Around the time Amy turned thirteen, and began to notice these things, she realized that she and Rory were becoming a good team, a perfect balance of hot and cold. He was always a constant in her life, and as he grew older and stood up to her more (not by much,) he was a reliable voice of reason. The two of them would team up together to reign in Mels so often their best friend began to refer to them as "Mum and Dad" on the occasion (a phrase that always turned Rory's face as red as Amy's hair).

It was about the time that Amy turned fifteen and Rory turned fourteen that it suddenly occurred to Amy that something was going on here. In a world where her own hormones made an enemy of herself, and Mels was becoming more of a source of chaos than entertainment by the day, Rory had become Amy's resting place, her go-to-guy for some sort of safety and sanity. For a girl with mild abandoment issues this was more attractive the entire cast of Troy put together. Her best friend was no longer Rory the boy, he was Rory the Boy, and thus he also became Rory the Problem.

It wasn't that Amy thought Boys were a problem; in fact she quite liked them. They were easy going, relaxing to be around. Woman's intuition always made being with boys an easy thing for Amy. She would toss her red hair (which was still ridiculous, but also an asset), smile (without braces, thank god), wear skirts that showed off her long legs, and boys would practically fall over themselves to get to her. She would favor one boy over the other every once in a while, but only for fun.

While being with Rory was still fun, the feelings she'd begun to feel towards him were not fun. They were nerve wracking, awful, sickness inducing. When Rory had come back from his summer vacation at his grandmother's house, he smelled like cats and towered over her by a good half-foot. The moment Amy realized she'd have to look up at him now instead of a comfortable eye-to-eye she'd turned bright red and called him a "Stupid Face" (which he apologized for profusely, although he wasn't sure why). She was even starting to find him attractive, which as Melody so helpfully pointed out, was physically impossible of Rory ("He looks like a dad, blech!")

She never told Mels about how uncomfortable being around Rory was becoming. This was partially because she didn't trust Mels to keep her big mouth shut (her best girl friend was already catching on, and giving her hell about it as much as she could). However it was also because Amy hadn't quite admitted it to herself. Her prescription grade abandonment issues rushed in full-force when it came to lik- well, when it came to Rory. Countless, pointless, thoughts kept her awake at night: What if she did something wrong and he didn't want to be her friend anymore? What if she let him down? As she drifted off to sleep, a darker thought would occasionally creep in, a precursor to an awful dream about a blue box and a bright light: what if he dies and it's all my fault?

But these questions were stupid questions. This whole Rory thing was entirely the fault of Puberty. Puberty was the reason she was secretly pleased when he looked at her when she had her back turned. Puberty was the reason she refused to touch him anymore, and if they did on accident Puberty was the reason for the blush on her (his?) cheek. It was not because she liked him, it was because Puberty was making her paranoid.

Puberty was also the reason she punched Paul Limenfield in the nose when he called Rory a "fag". At first the idea of it just made Amy angry ("He can't be gay!"), although it seemed to entertain Mels to no end ("Oh yeah, there's one who just fell right out of the gay tree. Hit every branch on the way down,"). But the more she thought about it, the more comfortable she felt with it. That was why she felt so comfortable around Rory! Being gay was practically like being a woman wasn't it? So Rory was really just another of her girlfriends!

For the next few weeks Amy quietly and violently combated the hurt she felt that it was possible that Rory would never like her with more and more evidence that he did in fact like other men. For one, he never paid attention to any girls besides Amy and Melody. It was like they didn't even register on his radar. Although some of the more attractive ones did seem to make him nervous, Amy would notice with narrowed eyes. But Rory had always been nervous. On top of that Rory was never ever comfortable around the other boys in his class. Melody said it was because he was afraid he didn't measure up (which she always said with a sort of fondness Amy couldn't quite explain,) but Amy was starting to know better.

The real clincher was at Julie Bowers end of the year party. In typical small village fashion there were a lot of people, and lots of alcohol. Amy and Melody had practically dragged Rory along only to abandon him as soon as they arrived. There was loud music, lots of teenagers, and lots of liquor going around; the girls meant to take full advantage of it. Amy was having a perfectly good time dancing with Logan Pope, a tall and handsome seventeen year old boy, when she noticed something in the corner that made her blood freeze in her veins.

Julie Bowers was kissing Rory.

Amy blinked.

Surely not. Julie Bowers was gorgeous, popular, an absolute pain in the ass. Why would Rory kiss her?

Almost as suddenly as she noticed it Rory jumped back against the wall like he'd been electrocuted. Like a magnet his eyes snapped on hers through the crowd; the poor boy looked downright terrified.

Ah.

Julie had kissed him. And judging by the look on his face, Rory had found the experience less than thrilling.

Definitely gay.

Amy excused herself from Logan and weaved her way quickly to her best friend and his drunk "attacker."

"Excuse me," she yelled, her Scottish accent distinctive even over the thump of the bass. "That's my boy you're snogging there." Rory and Julie looked at her as though she'd suddenly told them she had grown two extra heads. Amy simply raised an eyebrow. "Well? Off you go then!"

Julie, stunned and slightly drunk, wandered off into the crowd. Amy grabbed Rory's hand and led him towards the door. "Alright boy-o, time for you to get home huh?"

Rory still looked like he'd been struck by lightening. "Um. Um, Amy. I, uh, I just-"

"Ah, don't mention it," Amy replied confidently, still holding his hand but not looking at his face just yet. "You can always count on me to bail you out of stuff like that."

"Amy, wha- I mean-" Rory sputtered, suddenly stopping and taking his hand back from her. The boy was a mess, Amy noted. He was nervous, he wouldn't look her in the eye, he kept moving his hands from his face to his hair like he wasn't entirely sure where to put them. She suddenly felt a strong surge of affection for her best friend who obviously wanted to say something but didn't know how.

She put one long finger on his lips, and he stopped dead. "Don't worry about it, okay? Your secret is safe with me."

"Wha-" Rory said through blocked lips.

The red-headed girl just laughed and kissed him on the cheek, an entirely innocent, safe thing to do with your gay best friend. "Don't worry about it, yeah? I'll see you later!"

With that she ran back into the party, feeling very good about herself.

Over the next few weeks the story of what had happened at the party circulated around Leadworth. Mels always raised her eyebrow suggestively whenever mention of "Amy and her boy," came up, but said little otherwise. Rory sputtered and blushed like a five-year-old giving a seminar on physics.

Amy kept quiet. Puberty is hellish enough already, why would she make it worse for her best friend?