“If I do that, I’ll look guilty.” And I won’t be able to follow what’s being said about me, as infuriating as that effort will no doubt be.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do. But that’s my advice.” She takes another sip from her mug while I chew a Pop-Tart that has gone tasteless. “So, what happened with Jake?”

“Am I still being interrogated?” I can’t tell her that I think he cheated, because if we do get back together—and I can’t seem to let myself rule that out—she’ll always have a grudge against him. Whether or not he deserves it.

“Not interrogated. Interviewed. And that’s really the only choice I have, lately.”

That’s not fair. I’m not the one who stopped talking after Dad died. Mom shut herself off for weeks. It was like she spent so much effort on him in the months before he died—so much wasted energy and pointless words—that she had nothing left for afterward.

But I can’t hold that against her. Not after what he put her through.

“We just broke up.” I shrug. “There wasn’t really a specific reason.”

Fact-Check Rating: Liar, liar, pants on fire.

By that afternoon, the Crimson Cryer’s follower count has tripled, even with no new posts. And that’s when my cell phone starts ringing.

I have to hang up on three reporters before I realize this isn’t going to stop. Some asshole has given out my number. And because my phone won’t quit ringing, Penn calls Mom from his.

“Turn off your cell,” she says the second she walks in the door, as I’m rejecting the fifth call in as many minutes.

And for about half an hour, that does the trick. Landry comes home and starts talking about this new recipe she just found, but she can’t get out anything more than “fish tacos with mango,” because that’s when the home phone starts ringing.

Mom fields the calls, turning down all requests for a comment. Landry goes back to Norah’s house. Penn goes out for a run that turns into a marathon. And I try to distract myself with a new streaming show, but I can’t concentrate on it.

By that night, all the Tennessee news stations are running the #CliffordBaby story, even without a comment from me, or from Coach Killebrew or the Clifford PD, and by Sunday morning, the national media has picked it up. I don’t think I’ve ever watched the news, unless you count sitting through that headline channel my dad used to leave on during breakfast, but today I can’t seem to turn it off.