(James)
My phone would not stop ringing. Every few minutes, another call, another message, another headline. All of it saying I had assaulted a woman I had never even met. The noise in my head was almost worse than the noise from the phone.
I sat on the couch in the living room while Mom and Dad paced around like they were trapped. Dad muttered something under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I can’t believe this,” he said. His voice was tired. “James, are you sure you didn’t…”
I cut him off. “I didn’t do anything. Stop asking me that.”
My throat hurt when I said it. I wanted to shout, but it came out like a plea.
Mom glared at him and then turned to me. “Then why are they saying this? Why are there pictures? How did this even happen?”
I pressed my hands against my face. “
