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After the ringing and the knocking, I stumbled downstairs and opened the door to find Amy standing there with an excited look on her face.

What is it? I asked. I was sleeping. She rolls her eyes. You sleep more than anyone I know. Come on. There's something happening

down at the square. Half the town is there. I'm a teenager. That's what teenagers do. Eat and sleep.

And I'd rather go back to bed than attend some lame town hall meeting. Amy stomps her foot in

frustration. I like frustrating her foot in frustration.

I like frustrating her.

She's cute when she's flustered.

I don't think it's going to be lame, Thomas.

Some very weird people came out of the woods

and started talking about weird cult stuff.

So put your shoes on and let's go.

I don't want to miss any more of the weird cult stuff they're going to talk about.

Whoa, you're using my full name like my mother?

This must be serious, I say, reaching down to grab my shoes from the rack by the door.

Speaking of which, Amy says, your mother and father are there.

Of course they are. They're the nosiest people I've ever known. I pull on my shoes and shut the door behind me. Amy

grabs my hand and starts pulling me up the street toward the center of our small Tennessee

mountain town. It's a nice summer day, so my basketball shorts and t-shirt are

...