"If I have to hear another word about Thorne freaking Baxter, I'm going to cut my ears off."

I raise my eyebrows, taken aback. That's not normally the way Saige likes to start a conversation, but there's a first for everything, I guess.

"Why?" Emmie asks, taking a bite of a carrot. "You jealous that all the other girls are fussing over your man, Saigey?"

Saige rolls her eyes, clearly annoyed. "That's exactly my problem," she mutters. "All the girls in my home ec class would not shut up about Thorne. Thorne this and Thorne that; it's honestly so tiring, you know?"

"Can't relate," Emmie says, shrugging. "The boy's hot. Like, really hot. I wish I had classes with him. I'd get a free show every day."

I bite my lip, thinking about yesterday. Thorne sitting next to me in chemistry. The way he called me Sunshine. How he knew what an oxymoron was.

"You know," I speak up, shocking myself. "I have a class with him."

"What?" Emmie and Saige say at the same time, looking like they have very different opinions on this subject. Saige looks repulsed, like I just told her I ate a can of worms for breakfast. Emmie looks beyond excited, like a kid on Christmas morning.

"You lucky bitch!" Emmie exclaims, shaking her blonde head. "What's it like? What's he like? Where does he sit?"

"Uh . . . it's okay, I guess," I say. I'm not really sure how to explain what it's like having Thorne in my class. I don't even really know how I feel about it. "He's, um, Thorne? He sits next to me, actually."

"What?" Saige and Emmie practically scream, speaking in unison once again.

"He sits next to you?" By the way Saige's nose is wrinkled, I can tell she doesn't like this idea. I forgot how judgmental my friend can be.

"Well, yeah." I'm kind of nervous now. There's no way I'm telling them about the winks. Or the Sunshine thing. Or the way he told me my name was pretty. Part of me wants to keep this information to myself because I'm afraid of what they might say. The other half of me wants to keep this all to myself for selfish reasons. I don't want anyone else to know that Thorne Baxter has a nickname for me. I want that to be a secret shared only between the two of us for reasons I can't even begin to name, because I don't know myself.

"Oh my God!" Emmie cries. She's grinning so wide she looks like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. "Are you guys friends? Do you talk to each other?"

"Please, Em," Saige says icily before I have a chance to say anything. "This is Mia we're talking about. Of course she's not friends with someone like Thorne."

I can feel that weird twinge of pain flowing through my veins once again for the third time in two days. I can't stop myself from wondering what Saige means by this. Is it really so shocking that a boy like Thorne would dare to speak to a girl like me? If so, why? What about the thought is so crazy? Not that I can really talk. I was more or less thinking the same thing myself yesterday.

"What do you mean by that?" I don't realize I've said the words until Saige and Emmie are staring at me silently. Saige looks confused. Emmie looks like she knows a fight is about to start and she doesn't want to be around us. I'm a little stunned myself. Especially by the tone in which I say the words. Cold. Mean, almost. I've never been the kind of girl who is mean to her friends. I've never been the kind of girl to snap at someone.

But maybe it's a good thing I did. If I'm not going to stick up for myself, who will?

"I wasn't being rude, Mia," Saige says slowly, looking over to Emmie for help. Emmie looks down at the table, ignoring her. She obviously wants to stay out of this. "It's just . . . you're so . . . sweet. And, you're like, this innocent girl. And Thorne is, like, the opposite. I don't see you two getting along so well, is all."

A rage like I've never felt before courses through my veins. Why do Saige's words insult me so much? I can't explain it. But they physically hurt. To hear someone you care about say that you're lesser than someone else never feels good.

"Right," I hear myself snapping. "Someone like Thorne could never like a pure, innocent girl like me."

"Mia!" Saige once again turns to Emmie, but she's still refusing to meet her gaze. "I didn't mean it like that! It's just—You can't be upset. Why would you even want to associate with someone like Thorne? That's just not you."

"Then who am I?" I've never been so daring before. I can tell by the stricken looks on my friend's faces that they're just as shocked as I am. But I hold my ground, which I've never done before. And it's shocking, the feeling of defiance I feel. I've never felt so strong before. I kind of like it.

I feel myself rising before I even realize I'm doing it.

"Mia—" Saige starts, but I don't really listen. I'm too fired up.

"Let her go," I hear Emmie saying as I'm walking away. "Let her cool down."

I storm off, not sure where I'm going but knowing that I just need to get away for a minute. Maybe I'm overreacting. But, for the first time in my life, I don't really care. Let them think what they want to about me. Let them insult me to my face. That doesn't mean I have to like it. And I have the right to get as upset as I want to.

My feet take me to the side of the school. When I reach the wall, it registers that I'm alone. That's when the anger fades and the sadness kicks in. It's true. Everyone thinks that I'm pure and innocent and sweet and weak. And it's my fault. I'm the one who never talks back. I'm the one who lets people walk all over me. I'm the one who stays invisible instead of showing people the real me. They were all my choices.

And before now I was okay with them.

I slide to the ground, hiding my face in my arms. I take three deep breaths, trying to calm down. When did I become this way? Why can't I just be happy with who I am? Why do I suddenly feel the need to prove everyone wrong? What is going on with me?

I've never had this problem before. Until now, I've always been happy with myself. With being invisible. But, lately, I've been feeling like maybe that's not who I am. Maybe "invisible" isn't who I want to be.

And maybe that's not such a bad thing.

★★★

"Hey," Thorne says when I enter the classroom, falling into my seat next to him. "Just the person I wanted to see. What's up, Sunshine?"

"I'm seriously not in the mood for your antics, Thorne," I mumble, not bothering to look up. Still, I can feel those pestering eyes of his studying me, wandering over my body and burning every inch of my flesh.

"Antics?" Thorne chuckles loudly, as Mr. Musgraves hasn't walked in yet. "Who even says that?"

"I do," I say boldly, lifting my gaze to his. "I just did."

"Okay." Thorne lets out a weird whistle, leaning back in his seat to smirk at me. "Someone is in a mood, huh, Sunshine?"

Normally, I'd deny it. Except, I am kind of in a mood. So, instead, I don't say anything. A boy like Thorne would never like a girl like me, right? So what's the point?

"Hey," Thorne's voice is the softest I've ever heard it as he says the word, shifting slightly closer to me. "What is it, Sunshine?"

I jerk my head up, staring him down. I don't know if I'm imagining the words or if he really said them, but either way doesn't seem normal. A boy like Thorne Baxter shouldn't be saying words like that to a girl like me. He shouldn't care.

But that doesn't change the fact that he did say them. And, by the way he's looking at me right now, I'm seriously debating with myself if he might care about the way I'm feeling. Just a little bit.

"What does it matter to you?" I don't necessarily say the words rudely. I just ask the question, genuinely wanting to know the answer.

Thorne shrugs, all smugness wiping away from his features. "You just looked upset."

"Well, I'm not." I pull on a poker face, staring him dead in the eye. It doesn't matter if he cares, anyway. It's not like I'm about to talk about my feelings with him. I barely even know him.

"I don't get you." Thorne shakes his head, looking thoroughly confused. "I saw you, you know. All those times you were staring at me."

I can feel my cheeks turning red, my palms starting to sweat. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I know you do, Sunshine." Thorne looks the most serious I've seen him yet, and it's kind of scary. I'm not sure if I'm afraid of the way he's acting, or of the fact that Thorne noticed me—the invisible girl.

"I caught you staring at me, too." I don't know why I feel the need to whisper the words, but I do. I guess I just don't want anyone to overhear. "All those times you winked at me? What was up with that?"

Thorne laughs—rather loudly, I might add—giving me a look that makes me feel dumb. "That was me acknowledging the fact that you were staring at me, Sunshine."

"So, what's your point?" I snap, baffled.

"My point." Thorne puts emphasis on the word point, smirking at me. "Is that you can't just stare at someone continuously and then shut down every conversation they try to make with you. It's confusing, Sunshine."

"Oh, your ego can't possibly handle the fact that maybe someone doesn't want to talk to you?" I raise my eyebrows, holding back a smirk of my own. "Newsflash Thorne: not everyone is as obsessed with you as you are with yourself."

Thorne narrows his eyes at me, shaking his head. "You're a piece of work, Sunshine. You know that?"

"I don't think anyone has ever called me that before." I give him a wink—which is very unlike myself—a smug smile pulling across my lips to let him know that I'm teasing. I don't think this side of myself has ever come out around anyone else before, but he seems to do this to me. It's like I'm only really myself around him, as weird as it may sound. But I can't control it. If I could, I would, trust me.

Thorne shares my smile for a second, giving me a once-over that makes my heart pound. All too quickly Mr. Musgraves enters the room, telling us to take out our notes and diving into another lecture.

I tell myself to turn away from Thorne and to focus on my teacher. It shouldn't be hard. Then again, a boy has never made me feel like this before. My heart has never pounded so fast around a boy. My palms have never gotten sweaty from a smile and my cheeks have never blushed from a wink. I don't know what this feeling is, and I can't say I like it.

Minutes later, Thorne is tapping his desk with his pencil once again. He's not taking notes, which isn't surprising, or even paying attention to Mr. Musgraves, which also isn't surprising. But, unlike him, some of us take our academics and grades seriously. Some of us like to concentrate in class. That someone being me.

"Please," I hiss, turning to face him for a millisecond before returning to my notes. "Cut that out."

"Oh." I can tell by the lilting tone to Thorne's deep voice that he's enjoying this. "I forgot that this bothers you, Sunshine." The mindless tapping persists over the next few minutes, until I'm annoyed to the brim.

I don't say another word. I just reach over and snatch the pencil out of his hand, breaking it in half in seconds. Thorne watches with wide eyes, his eyebrows furrowing together.

"Oh no," he cries softly, a look of mock-concern on his face. "You broke my pencil! How will I do my work now?"

I roll my eyes, setting my gaze back on my notebook. "Not my problem."

"Have it your way, Sunshine." Thorne leans back in his seat, his green eyes on me. "But now you owe me."

I whip my head up at him, glaring with wide eyes. "I do not owe you, Thorne."

"You broke my only pencil. You seriously think I'm going to let you get away with that?"

"Buy another one. They're, like, fifty cents."

"It's the principle of the thing, Sunshine," Thorne says slowly, curling his lips. "How would you like it if I broke your pencil?"

I don't get the chance to respond. "Ms. McHenry and Mr. Baxter!" Mr. Musgraves barks, startling me. "Would you like to share with the class what you're talking about?"

I can feel my cheeks turning crimson. The class's gazes begin to fall on me and Thorne, making the moment worse. I am the girl no one is supposed to see, yet the entire class is now staring at me. I don't know what to do, as I'm totally not prepared for this situation.

"Sorry, sir," Thorne says easily, a lazy smile on his lips. "Won't happen again, sir."

Mr. Musgraves eyes Thorne skeptically. "I wouldn't test me, Mr. Baxter. You're hanging by a thread, do you hear me, boy?"

"Loud and clear, Mr. M." It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that Thorne is being blatantly sarcastic.

"Thanks a lot," I whisper after Mr. Musgraves turns his back on the two of us, returning to the board and his lecture. "I never get in trouble."

Thorne takes me off guard by leaning in very close to me, his mouth next to my ear. I can feel his warm breath on my neck as he exhales; smell the scent of his cologne as it wafts through the air around us. I can feel myself stiffening, not quite sure how I like him invading my space like this.

"Then you should know that with me"—Thorne pauses, blowing a few strands of hair away from my cheek—"there's always trouble." Just as quickly as he appeared, he pulls away, leaning back in his seat and not paying attention to a word Mr. Musgraves is saying.

My heart is racing. My throat has constricted. I can't even think about turning to face Thorne. What just happened? is the only thought that goes through my mind, stopping me from paying attention to everything else around me.

What is this boy doing to me? Or maybe the question should be, why am I letting him?