To the outside world, I was like any other boy. I liked to be outside with my friends in the sunlight, playing in the dirt and catching lizards. But, my parents and close friends all knew that my favorite thing to do was to read. And so it was, one warm August afternoon in 2008, that I was reading on the front porch when a moving truck pulled up across the street. I stuck an old receipt between the pages to mark my place and curious, set the book aside on the swing. As I watched, a man got out of the driver’s side and walked around to the back of the truck.

On a cool October evening in 2009, I sat in my parents' kitchen, waiting for my three best friends: Angel Tyler, David Rider, and Odette Sallow. As the kitchen door clicked open, I watched them shuffle inside, trying to mimic the serious expression I'd seen on my father's face countless times. Once they found their seats, I reached down into my backpack and pulled out a brown leather notebook with a silvery blue pen attached. As I gently set it on the table, Angel's eyes widened. "Is that it?" she asked.