Wiping a bead of sweat off my forehead, I try once more to focus on the music, but feel my attention wandering again after only a few short minutes. It's not that the concert is bad—far from it—its headliner is one of the best local bands in my area, and I'm good friends with their vocalist. No, my current inability to focus on their music is due entirely to the oppressive heat on this sweltering summer day. My eyes lazily drift over the stage and past it, the sight to the right of the stage snapping me out of my haze. Just past the stage, leaning against a folding chair, is the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. She can't be older than her early teens, but everything about her is perfect; even from a distance it's clear that her body already has soft curves that would drive any man wild. These, coupled with her stunningly gorgeous face, and her outfit of a white crop top and skin-tight shorts, are enough to start me thinking things I've never thought about a child before, and I can't avert my gaze from her.
I realize that I've been staring longer than I thought when her eyes catch mine and narrow slightly. Shit, did she realize I was ogling her? Surely I wasn't that obvious about it. But no, a moment later, my worst fears are confirmed, and the young girl comes sauntering over, the lazy confidence in her step clearly intended to strike fear into me. For a moment I debate running, but there's no way that would end well; I'll just have to try and tell her it was some sort of misunderstanding. It's not long before the nymphet reaches my little corner of the venue, sitting down directly next to me with no ceremony. All I can think to say is a simple greeting: "Hi..." the salutation sounds pathetic and forced, even to my ears.
"Hi!" the girl chirps back, her eyes sparkling with mischief as leans in close, so she can speak into my ear. "You're a pedo, aren'tcha?" The direct, baseless accusation makes me stiffen, causing the girl to giggle quietly.
"N-No, I'm not. You can't just go around accusing people of being pedophiles! Go back over to your family, I don't want you getting me into trouble."
My words only seem to embolden the girl, who presses her mouth to my ear for a second time, attempting to make herself heard over the loud music. "Yes you are, I saw you starin' at me from across the way. The only people who stare like that are sickos who want to fuck thirteen-year-old girls like me." I can't think of any good way to deal with this crazy child, so I stand up and walk out towards the parking lot, the light clicking of heels on asphalt letting me know that my tormentor is following closely behind.
"You gonna run away? After undressing me with your eyes like that, you're gonna run away?" For some reason I get the feeling that this child is deliberately choosing to say the words she thinks will make me most likely to pay attention to her.
Once we've turned the corner to the main parking lot behind the venue, I turn to my pursuer: "What is it you want from me? Yes, I was obviously looking at you, but what do you expect when you dress like a fucking hooker."
"Oh my God, I can't believe you just said that to a thirteen-year-old. You really are a pedo, huh?" She takes another step towards me, and I take one back. We repeat this little dance for a moment, concluding it abruptly when my back presses against the brick wall. "Well, Mister Pedo, you wanna make out? I'm suuuper bored and all my friends say it's like, totes fun."