Why did I always seem to catch the attention of girls who were far too young? It wasn't that I minded being admired—what thirteen-year-old boy would?—but the age gap made everything awkward and complicated.
I suppose I couldn't really complain, given that I was still quite young myself. Thirteen years old, to be exact, though I was much older in my mind. I mean when I did I was twenty three.
But here, in a few years, I'd be considered a man by most standards, but that felt like an eternity away. The waiting was maddening.
More than anything, I wished I could skip ahead to where I truly belonged—that comfortable space where I wouldn't have to navigate these strange social dynamics, where I could simply be myself without worrying about whether someone was too young or too old for my friendship.
"She's quite talented, isn't she?" Lisa's voice interrupted my brooding as she approached.
