NATE
My stomach growled, and that was what woke me up. I couldn't remember when I'd last eaten. We'd been just about to sit down to dinner the night before, when my mom had gotten the frantic telephone call from Lisa Taylor. I'd been in the kitchen already, pouring a glass of lemonade, and I'd glanced over at my mother's face when I heard her voice.
"Oh, my God. No. No. Lisa-what-oh, my God. Okay. Yes, I'll head over now. Yeah. No, I know. I just can't-yes. I'll see you there."
My dad had just come inside with a plate of burgers he'd been grilling outside. He was whistling, I remembered now. We'd had a relaxed Saturday after the excitement of graduation and the party over at Quinn's house. That was my parents' usual MO: they worried that too much fuss or out-of-the-ordinary activity w
