I Overheard That She Was 19 Novels & Stories

She was bouncing on her heels, dying to tell me something. “I’d love to lecture you more about self-care, but I have to share something very... very... VERY important.” “Spill it,” I said, pouring a glass of water to steady my hand. “You won’t believe me. You know I’m nineteen—so old and still no mate,” she began. Then her eyes widened and she covered her mouth. “I’m sorry, Zlata! I didn't mean it that way. You’re twenty-four, but don’t worry, your fated mate is still out there somewhere.”

Mirena exhaled slowly. She wasn't a detective by any means, but she sure as hell saw the whole picture her. He wasn’t just trash, the bastard was the scummiest trash. Ah, she wasn't in the mood for bjs kind. Best wrap it up quickly. “How old are you?” She asked the girl suddenly. The girl flinched, but nonetheless, spoke. “N-nineteen—” she said hesitantly. “You’re seventeen,” Mirena cut in before she could finish.

I said and she frowned. “You said you found me on the river bank,” she said as I opened the fridge and took eggs and bacon to make breakfast. “You were unconscious,” I said. “Did you change my clothes?” she asked. “Was I supposed to leave you in the wet and dirty ones?” I asked her. “I guess not,” she said with a slight blush. “How old are you?” I asked her. She looked way too young to have been discarded in a lake. “Nineteen,” she said.

“Yes, I do. She is three years old.” “Three,” he mused, his expression unreadable. “So young. You must have been—” He paused, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Were you one of those teen mothers?” The way he phrased it felt like a challenge. I refused to let him shame me. “Yes,” I said evenly, lifting my chin. “I was nineteen.” Violet’s eyes lit up with genuine interest. “Nineteen,” she repeated, her lips curving into a smile. “What is her name?”

“You are so cooked. You missed attendance.” “I’ll make up for it,” I grinned, unable to hide my excitement. “You won’t guess what happened earlier.” She looked tired already. “What now?” I told her. Every detail. His voice. His hand. The “the kiddo,” which I frowned at. She stared at me like I had announced I was moving to Mars. “Girl, you’re becoming crazy. He would never date a child, he already called you kiddo.” “I’m nineteen,” I frowned. “Not a child.”

"I am completely serious." "But you are... how old are you?" she asked, and I saw the calculations happening behind her eyes, saw her trying to reconcile the timeline. "You told me you were nineteen." "I am twenty-five," I said, and I watched her process that, watched her realizing how much had been a lie and how much had been carefully constructed. "I styled my hair differently when I enrolled, kept it longer and lighter, dressed younger. I was careful about how I moved, what I said. People see what they expect to see, and they expected a nineteen year old transfer student, so that is what I gave them."

It was Diana speaking. "She's what?" He growled. "Shifting!" "Shifting?" "For the first time." Diana added. I growled as I felt the muscles of my calves and thighs cramp up. My body collapsed on its side but my head was caught by someone before it collided with the ground. I could smell how amazing his scent was. It radiated comfort. "Is that possible? How old is she?" A stranger's voice piped up. "Uh.. Eighteen! She-She turned eighteen last week."

If this is a dream I need to wake up fast. “Alora honey. I want to but I can’t!.” I replied and I saw a disappointed look on her face. I cupped her face in my palm. “You’re too young for this!.” I told her and then kissed her forehead. She sat up and stared at me blankly. “I am nineteen!.” She finally said. “I know that! I doubt you’re ready!.” I replied. I was still laying in bed, Alora exhaled and inhaled. She kept calm.

It was her face, but she looked like she hadn't even finished growing. I wasn't looking for trouble. As she stepped forward and hugged me, I realized how tiny she was—she weighed next to nothing and barely came up to my chest. I pulled back, staring down at her. "I’m sorry to ask this, Giselle, but how old are you?" "I’m eighteen," she said quickly. I felt my dick go soft instantly. "I’m turning nineteen in two months!" she added, raising her voice as if that made a difference. The sexy redhead I had been fantasizing about was just a kid. I didn't say a word; I just turned around and started walking away.

Almost fragile, like she might disappear if he looked away too long. ‎ ‎How old is she? he wondered, his curiosity getting the better of him. ‎ ‎“How old are you?” he asked suddenly, the question slipping out before he could second-guess it. He studied her face, noting the smoothness of her skin, the youthful softness that reminded him of a nineteen-year-old girl. Maybe she was nineteen. ‎ ‎But even if she is nineteen… so what? he thought shamelessly, doing the math in his head. He was definitely older, how much older, exactly?