Kat Stickler Age Novels & Stories

“We haven’t done anything. Just… kissed. And he’s okay with that. He said he’ll wait.” Brittany let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “He’s too old to be going to fucking prom.” “No, he’s not,” Stacy said calmly. “He’s twenty-one.” Brittany squinted at her. “I thought he was like twenty-three, twenty-four.” “No. He’s twenty-one,” Stacy repeated. “It’s only three years. I already checked with the prom committee,they said it’s fine as long as they have his ID.”

What annoyingly perfect timing. “It’s not a lover’s—we’re not even dating, okay?” he growled, trying to be respectful, but that was hard to do when the Commander showed not an ounce of sympathy for his situation. If he wasn’t mistaken, the old lady was actually looking at him with pity. “You really are terrible at this, kid,” the old woman said, tutting. Jester was certain she added in the word ‘kid’ just to annoy him more, because the Commander was one of the few people who knew that Jester was actually more than three hundred years old (counting his age as a god back in Gaia).

Standing there was Cassie's step mother, a big, long stick in her right hand. Totally disregarding my presence, she spoke straight at Cassie. "How many times do I have to call you before you answer me?" "I–" Cassie was about to say when the woman leaped towards her and raised the stick to hit her. That was when I deemed it fit to move. I held the raised stick, sheltering Cassie behind me. "She's almost 18 years old, hitting her at this age is considered barbaric and unfeeling." I said.

"You know that you are my favourite client, I will please you first and then I will look after the others" "I told you I like exclusivity. Get back to work, or you'll lose another client". "I thought there was something between us!" The stripper looked at him hopefully, waiting for an answer. The Machiavellian smile made Enrico's face somber, it was obvious he didn't care. The stripper knew that gangster had a heart of stone, but she still liked Enrico. "I can give you that massage you like!" She tried to seduce him with her honeyed voice.

“You know what I mean.” “No actually,” Stella replied immediately. “Go on.l Katelyn exhaled softly before leaning back against the bench. “He’s sweet,” she admitted quietly. “And smart. And Avery likes him. He likes Avery too.” Stella looked deeply pleased hearing that. “But?” she prompted, knowing there was definitely a but. Katelyn hesitated. “He’s too young. He’s like what—28? I’m not a cradle robber.” Stella shook her head at her friend, “He’s old enough to know what he wants. That’s not the only reason, is it? Tell me the real reason, Kate.”

Kat shrugged, picking up a whisk and dipping it into the batter bowl. "I'll just wait for you to leave," she sighed, her blonde curls bouncing around her ears as her tiny arms fought against the batter. Katerina was only nine but had a personality that could bring even the fiercest warrior to his or her knees. The last time I had seen her, she had been barely four years old, and she had been a handful then. I stood, sliding the stool back into place and gingerly picking up my coffee mug, peering inside in the event she had put something inside of it when I wasn't looking.

’ He brings his coffee (plain, black) up to his mouth and pretends to take a sip. Canus has been posing as Robert Gilliver, a lecturer at one of the lesser-known colleges nearby, one who recently began teaching exclusively night school for the summer terms. Katy and him became friends when they started going to the same 24-hour pizzeria for dinner. He’s claiming to be only thirty-two, and he’s managed to pull it off surprisingly well, playing the irreverent millennial so convincingly that sometimes I have to remind myself that he was born before electricity was ever discovered. As a result—and I don’t know if it’s intentional on his part or not—Katy definitely fancies him.

Thank you, and my name is Klaus Oakluster," I said, smiling and hiding my little eyes. Needless to say, I almost gave the boy I still don't know his name a heart attack. "Klaus Oakluster? I think I've heard your name before, but I don't remember where." He said thoughtfully, "My name is Kane; you can call me Kane, honey. I guess You're younger than me. How old are you?" "I'm 23, Kane, and you?" I asked. "Well, I'm 26, but clearly you can't tell, can you?" He asked, and still smiling, “I denied it; it's true that I don't look that age.”