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Friends tell me I look young, act young, talk young. Except they don't say that.

"You're like the baby of the group."

"How's the pup doin'?"

"You're such a cub."

So on.

I don't really mind. Didn't should actually be the word. Until that night.

He came up to me. Said, "How about I buy you a drink?"

I smiled.

We hit it off. I become needier. He becomes needier. Get out of the way decency. We don't have time for that.

And then:

Q. "How old are you?"

A. "18."

Eyes begin to droop. His smile widens. I'm no witch, but I put a spell on him.

At a turn of a hat, he pulls these names out of his cap.

"Baby Boy."

"Little Pup."

"Honey Cub."

Like a duel, he fires off his own magic.

I'm getting smaller; he's getting bigger.

I can think, I can speak, but now my voice doesn't just ring; it squeaks. My clothes, fit for a man, now I'm swimming.

He takes me to his home. He asks me about my virginity. I tell him about the men I've "dated". I wait; he may have an eraser, rub each and every soul I know away. Make me feel small forever.

We fuck. I enjoy it, like a consenting adult would do. But as I look on my new body, there's something off. He doesn't mind, so I don't bring it up.

I awake in the morning with my body fully grown. Just as I found it.

I take my clothes and head out. I hope with every sprint brings me further and further away from not just him, nor the mattress, but the stain that's left on it.

My stain.

I haven't heard from him since. Though, I did see a pic that my friends like and it unsettled me.

It was a pic of me, so small, sleeping at his place. I kept saying to myself, "I'm not that small. I'm not that young." But I was that small. I was that young.

And the worse part,

Wasn't the fact that it was posted,

Wasn't the fact that it was liked by some, if not, all my friends.

But that there's a part of me that hasn't been growing since 16. Telling me to enjoy. Be silent. Don't ask.

Be a child.

Be a boy.

Be young.