"Your powers. Well, yeah, of course..." he stammered. Drew really didn't want to, but he moved onto his side-- still very close, but it was really not very easy to have a big, deep, revelatory heart-to-heart discussion when your faces were an inch apart.
He listened, doing his best to give his writer's attention to the words that were coming out of his girlfriend. While they made sense in a kind of science-fiction, fantasy novel kind of way (and wow, was the irony of that not even remotely lost on Drew), they didn't jibe at all with anything he'd ever heard about genetic conditions that aged people prematurely. Those things just affected people's bodies, not their minds.
A hundred questions about logistics popped into his head, ranging from whether anyone else in her family had the same condition or how it was that she was able to act like such a typical teenager (not that she really did, he realized). But the first and foremost question was the one he voiced.
"How...?"
And then, Nessie reached out and touched him and answered. The information bombarded his head and Drew nearly rolled off the narrow bed.