Kayla and I were not friends, so when she called me out of the blue, on a blistering July morning, to ask if I wanted to join her and her dad on the lake for the day, it was like NASA calling to invite me to the moon.
“My dad has a boat,” she said. “We can go tubing.”
“OK,” I replied, startled. “Sure. Why not.”
“Cool. I’ll pick you up in an hour. Wear your suit.”
My questions were many: How had she gotten my number? How did she know where I lived? And why, after four years in school together, was she trying to hang out with me now?
