At a college party a few Friday nights ago, I sat in my friend's kitchen enjoying a cocktail, deep in conversation, until his eyes wandered toward the door and he asked "Who's that?" I turned to see an attractive, curvy brunette who had clearly grabbed his attention.

"I'm not sure, but I know her from somewhere. I recognize the face," I answered.

"Well, find out!" he insisted.

When the mystery girl and I made eye contact, the polite smile she returned said she knew me as well. I assumed she was a fellow student of Assumption College, but I wasn't sure.

She stood with two of her girlfriends, arms crossed, backs against the wall, clearly surrounded by unfamiliarity. "Where do I know you from?" I asked as I joined the trio, relieving them of their awkward pose. "I'm Lauren's friend, Amanda," she answered (name changed for obvious reasons).

The blank stare on my face made it obvious that I needed more of an explanation.

"Lauren, Alex's sister. I met you at their grandfather's birthday party," she explained.

My stomach dropped with disbelief. Lauren, my boyfriend's little sister, the one who's still in high school? These girls look at least my age, if not older. It couldn't be true.

But it was.

I instantly scanned the crowd, praying Lauren was nowhere in sight. She wasn't. She knew better than to risk running into her big brother. That would undoubtedly result in quite the scene, a phone call home, and months of groundation.

"Thank goodness," I said under my breath as my chest lightened.

When I turned back with flushed cheeks to face her and her underage friends, I did the only thing I could think of: I lectured them.

"Respect yourself and your body, make wise decisions, never leave with someone you don't know and keep an eye on your friends," I said, listing off every word of advice that I could think of.

Before walking away to inform the party host that ID checking may be necessary, I looked "Amanda" in the eye and insisted, "Please, just take it from someone who knows. I've been there." I never thought that at age 21 I'd already be preaching the things my mother preached, and sometimes, still preaches to me. It's not that I hang out with pedophiles.

Rather, it's that girls these days ("these days," I'm starting to scare myself) are acting and looking much older than they are. High school girls partying with college guys? Whatever happened to childhood?

I just don't understand. What's the big rush? Adolescence is the best. So few responsibilities, so little to worry about. It's the only time you're entitled to be carefree. What girl doesn't love Barbies? Maybe we should give each 15-year-old a stack of unpaid bills and see if they change their mind about growing up too fast.

But maybe it's our society's fault. At the mall the other day, I passed Club Libby Lu, a store for little girls to get all dolled up. Inside were about 15 miniature Paris Hiltons, prancing around in tube tops and skirts with enough makeup on to last a lifetime. And we ask what's the problem.

People joke that it's something in the water, but I'm really beginning to wonder.

JESSICA TRUFANT is a senior at Assumption College in Worcester who is interning at The Sun Chronicle. You can contact her at jtrufant@assumption.edu.