Today at church a man walked up to me and shook my hand. I smiled at him and he asked how old I was.

I replied that I was sixteen.

He gave me a slow, painful look-over, glanced up at me with a grin and said, "Don't look sixteen. You look seventeen."

I tried my best to give him a polite smile, then went to the bathroom to avoid his beady eyes.

I felt sick.