She glanced at Dad, who flashed me a small smile. Mom laid her hand over mine. “Since you asked me about what to do if you’re allergic to latex.”

I chuckled through my tears, shaking my head.

“I mean, it was kind of obvious,” Dad said, his tone light, understanding. “It was like you were trying to write a self-help book for teens.” He held up his hands. “Which we’d totally support, by the way.”

I glanced between them, then crumpled with my head in my hands. “I messed up so bad.”

“We’re not upset with you,” Mom assured me. “We just wanted to talk. After the principal called, and with the parents protesting, we knew it was escalating to a point where we couldn’t not say anything anymore.”

Warmth pulsed in the center of my broken heart, but their support wasn’t enough to mend it.

“We want to help you,” Dad said. “Whatever you need. We’re here. We can talk to Principal Tanner as a family. Help you make a statement on your blog, whatever you need.”

I bit my lip, wishing it was that easy. “Thank you,” I said, wiping my face again. “But…” The breath tightened in my lungs as I tried to force the words out. My parents waited patiently, their eyes understanding and open and not at all angry. “I got a girl pregnant!” I blurted, and they both blinked at me.

Dad tilted his head, leaning farther over the table. “You know…I mean…that’s not possible…” He glanced to Mom for help.

“You can see where we’re having a hard time understanding that statement, right?” She raised her eyebrows. “But if you like girls, we’re totally cool with that, too. I just thought you and Dean—”

“No,” I cut her off before we could reopen that still-bleeding wound. “The girl. She wrote in. Told me after I answered her question about birth control that she took my advice and wound up pregnant.” I hid my face in my hands, unable to face them. “I ruined someone’s life.”

“Oh, honey, no,” Mom said as she folded herself over my back. “There is no way that is your fault.”

“It is,” I mumbled against my hands.

“I’ve read every single blog post,” she said. “Your father, too.”

I peeked through my fingers to find them both nodding. A full-body blush coated my skin, and I hid again.

“And the piece on birth control and doubling up was exceptional,” Dad said.

“Yes,” Mom agreed. “You stated the odds and even went on to say that it’s always better to be safe than sorry.”

I dropped my hands. “She blames me.”

“She’s a teenager who just found out her world has changed. She’s looking for anyone to blame but herself.”

“You can’t take on that kind of responsibility,” Dad said. “You weren’t the one who didn’t use protection.”