"Where in the world have you been?"

I don't return to my house until the next afternoon once school ends. Since I'd gone home with Thorne, I accidentally fell asleep there. I didn't have my car—it was still parked at the school lot—so I just stayed with Thorne for the rest of the day. With all the commotion that's been going on in my life, I somehow managed to forget to call my parents and give them some excuse about where I've been.

Shit.

"Uh . . ." I trail off, staring blankly at both of my parents, who sit at the kitchen table staring at me with looks that could kill.

"You better explain yourself, young lady," Dad growls, his blue eyes practically seething. "Or don't expect to leave your room anytime soon."

"Didn't I tell you?" I blurt, going with the first thing that comes to mind. "I was staying the night at Saige's." Yeah, right. "We were working on a project all day, and my phone died. I must have blacked out before I remembered to call you guys."

Mom and Dad don't say a word. They just stare at me as if I'm some filthy, disgusting animal that's managed to worm its way into their lives. Mom's gaze is icy as it meets mine, and I can feel myself shivering. I don't know what's going on, but I don't like it. And I get the feeling things are about to get a lot worse.

"You weren't at Saige's." Mom says the words evenly with the confidence of someone who knows that as a fact. "I called Saige's house when you didn't show up home last night. Her mother said you weren't there, and that she hadn't seen you in days. Emmie's mother said the same thing. In fact, Emmie wasn't even at her house last night."

Oh no. Think, Mia. What do you say now? Don't just stand there like an idiot! Say something! Make them believe you!

I stand stiffly, like a snowman. I open and close my mouth, but it's like I've forgotten how to speak. I've never been caught in a lie before, and now I have no clue what I'm supposed to do.

"Where were you really?" My dad practically whispers the words. For some reason, his quietness is scarier to me than if he were yelling. In fact, I wish he was. I'm prepared to have my parents yell at me. I'm not prepared for them to act this way: like they already know where I was but just want to hear me admit to it first.

I won't.

"I . . ." I trail off, shaking my head. "I can't tell you."

"Mia Rose McHenry!" My mother gasps, shooting out of her chair. "Since when do you keep secrets from us? Since when do you lie to your parents?" I hang my head in shame as my mother hurls accusations at my face. As much as I hate to admit it, she's right. A month ago, before Thorne, this wouldn't even be happening. I wouldn't have lied. I wouldn't be keeping secrets.

Does that mean I regret who I'm becoming? Not one bit.

"Who are you?" Mom points a finger in my direction, blowing her lid. "What have you done with my daughter? It's like I don't even know who you are anymore!"

She's right. She doesn't. She knows the version of Mia that obeys orders and comes home right after school and doesn't lie to her parents or sneak out or fall asleep at a boy's house. But maybe it's a good thing that I'm changing. Maybe it's a good thing that I've finally learned how to open up; to live. And it really doesn't matter what my parents say or do, they can't change that if they tried.

"Maybe you don't." I don't mean to say the words. But I do. And, with just that one sentence, it's suddenly silent all around me. My mother looks stricken, like I've just stabbed her in the back with the sharpest blade imaginable. My father looks like he's about to burst with anger.

Dad slams his hand down on the table, the sound making me flinch. "Go to your room!" he booms, startling me. "You're grounded. Don't even think about leaving your room, do you hear me?"

As I climb the steps to my room—aka, my prison—I can't stop myself from thinking that they really don't know their daughter. And that might not be such a bad thing.

★★★

"I'm grounded," I hiss into my phone, which my parents thankfully forgot to take away before dooming me to my room.

"Did you tell them where you were?" Thorne asks from his end. I meet my own gaze in my mirror, shaking my head at his question.

"Of course not!" I snap quietly. "I can't tell them the truth! They'd never let me see you again!"

Thorne is silent for a moment. I pace to the other side of my room, falling back on my bed as I wait for his response. His voice is raspy as he says, "Maybe that's a good thing."

"Don't talk like that," I tell him, my face flushing at the thought. "I don't know what'd I'd do if—" I stop short, not wanting to finish the sentence out loud. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you.

"At least you can still go to school," Thorne offers, clearly trying to change the subject and make me feel better. "You'll be able to get out of the house."

"Why won't you let me stay with you?" I ask. "You're hurt. If you're going to stay home while you heal, you should at least go to the hospital, Thorne. Your ribs could be bruised. Or—"

"I can't, Sunshine," Thorne stops me short. "They'd ask questions about what happened, and I can't risk that. I'm in enough shit already."

"Then let me come help you," I plead. "My parents don't have to find out. I—"

"You're in enough shit, too," Thorne cuts me off again. "I don't want your parents to find out you've been cutting."

"I guess." I sigh, laying back on my bed and squeezing my eyes closed. "I miss you already." If you'd told me the first day that Thorne and I met that I'd be saying that sentence to him within a month, I wouldn't have believed you. Look at me now.

"I'll be back before you know it, Sunshine," Thorne promises me. "You'll see. I miss you, too."

Despite myself, I find that a smile makes its way across my lips. Because Thorne just said he missed me too, and just the sentence sends me flying over the moon. He seems to have that affect on me. And I seem to like it.

★★★

A week later, I'm standing at my locker as I usually do at the beginning of the day, taking my things out of my book-bag and shoving them into the small space. Groups stand around me in the halls, talking to their friends or looking at their phones. Saige's locker isn't far from mine, and I notice her walk past me on her way, purposefully averting her gaze from mine. I notice Emmie, too, standing at her locker at the end of the hall. I try to ignore the both of them, unsure of what to do otherwise.

I get the sinking feeling that this is going to be another boring, uneventful, Thorne-less day. For the past week he's been out of school, resting at home. I want him to get better, so I don't pressure him into coming back when we talk on the phone. Still, I miss seeing him. I even find myself missing the annoying things he does, which must mean that I'm really whipped for him.

Maybe it's a good thing he's not here, though. I mean, we haven't really sorted anything out between us since our kiss. I don't like not knowing what we are, and I don't know what it would be like to suffer through that all day. Maybe he doesn't want to date. Maybe that kiss meant nothing to him. In that case, I wouldn't want him to know that it meant the world to me.

Closing my locker, I look up toward the entrance of the hall. Oh, I think to myself. Thorne's here. My gaze returns to my locker within seconds, and then I do a double take. Thorne's here?

Sure enough, there he is. His dark hair is messy in that perfect way it always is. The bruises on his face have almost completely healed, a little faint purple here and there. He wears a gray hoodie and ripped black jeans, his feet clad with sneakers. His green eyes are focused on me, and he walks with purpose.

Before I know it, his hands are cupping my face and his lips are on mine. He kisses me harder than the first time, with a passion I can't quite explain. Taken aback, I stand stiffly for a moment, unable to wrap my mind around what's happening. When I finally do, I kiss him back without much thought, my arms snaking around his neck and pulling him in closer to me.

When we finally pull away from each other, I realize that the kids in the hallway have gone silent as they gape at Thorne and me, probably unable to believe what they just saw. I can't really blame them; it happened to me and I hardly believe it. I spot Saige staring at me with her jaw on the ground, shock evident in her blue eyes. Emmie's staring, too, a strange look that I can't really read on her face.

I don't care about them, though. All I care about is the boy standing in front of me; the boy who just kissed me in front of all of our peers and doesn't seem to have a second thought about it.

I guess I was wrong earlier, I think to myself. He doesn't want to keep us a secret, clearly.

"You have no idea how many times I thought about doing that all week," Thorne tells me, a secret smile on his lips. "I missed my Sunshine."

I can feel myself floating, beaming at his revelation. Not only did he just say he missed me, he called me his Sunshine. As in, the girl that belongs to him and no one else. Like we're a couple.

I try and fail not to grin as I tell him, "I missed you, too." I can feel his eyes studying me, wandering over my face and body, memorizing every inch of my skin. Then he's kissing me again, taking my breath away for the second time in minutes. Pulling away, he intertwines our fingers as he takes my hand, seemingly not caring who's watching. In fact, I'm sure that's why he's doing it. To prove that I am his and he is mine, and he doesn't give a damn what anyone else thinks about that.

And I don't think anyone has ever done anything nicer for me in my life.

★★★

When fourth period finally rolls around, I'm practically bouncing on the balls of my feet. Before today, I don't think I've ever been excited for class before. As soon as I fall into my seat next to Thorne, I can feel the eyes of the girls who used to ogle him glaring at me. Not that I care. Thorne didn't kiss them in the hallway this morning.

"Hey, Sunshine," Thorne says as I take my seat, smirking up at me.

"What are you up to?" I ask immediately, recognizing the look on his face in seconds.

"Now why would you ask me something like that?" he questions, trying his best to look innocent.

"Because you've got that I'm up to something look on your face," I tell him, raising an eyebrow. Trying to look serious, Thorne says, "No I don't."

"Yes, you do," I counter. We have a staring competition for a moment, both of us refusing to be the first to blink and give in to the other. Finally, Thorne blinks, making me smirk.

"I was just thinking," Thorne starts slowly. Oh boy, I think. Here we go. "That we have chemistry, Sunshine." He breaks out into a grin as he watches me, waiting for me to get his awful pun. "Get it? Because we're in chemistry? And we—"

"I get it." I spare myself from having to hear any more of that joke. "That was terrible."

"I thought it was pretty good." Thorne has a cute self-satisfied smile on his lips as he leans back in his seat.

"Of course you would." I roll my eyes as I open my notebook to a fresh page, grabbing my favorite pen.

"What do you mean by that?" Thorne taunts, suddenly all up in my face. I don't know why, but being this close to him still flusters me. It doesn't seem to matter how many times he's had his arms around me, how many times we've kissed (3—not that I'm counting or anything), or how many times the space between us is small enough to count. He still manages to make my breath catch in my throat, to make my heart pound just a little harder.

"N-nothing." I'm not quite sure why I stutter. Maybe it's because having him look at me the way that he is now turns my whole body to jelly, which makes it kind of hard to talk.

Thorne just smirks, blowing stray strands of hair out of my face. "You're cute when you're flustered, Sunshine."

"I'm not flustered," I argue, although yeah, I am.

Thorne narrows his green eyes as he stares at me, still smirking. "You're not a good liar." He withdraws himself from me then, going back to leaning in his seat. I purse my lips, thinking that it's totally unfair for him to tease me and then leave me hanging like that.

Mr. Musgraves enters the room, starting one of his infamous lectures. Thorne and I sit in silence for a moment, neither of us really paying attention to the teacher. Just as I start to write down some of the highlights of the slide Mr. Musgraves is showing us, I feel Thorne pulling in close to me. His breath is warm on my neck as he whispers in my ear, "You still grounded, Sunshine?"

I don't look up. I don't want him to know that I'm still blushing. "Yep," I whisper back, eyes trained on my notebook as I write. "Two weeks. My sentence will be up on Friday."

"Perfect," Thorne whispers in my ear before pulling away, leaving me to wonder what he could possibly mean by that.

"You missed a lot of class," I say, gesturing to the paper and pencil in front of him—from me, of course. "You should at least take some notes. I don't want you to fail, Thorne."

"Okay, Mother," Thorne grumbles under his breath. He does reach for his pencil though, and I notice the way he jots down a few sentences from each slide throughout the rest of class. The action makes me smile, because—whether he'd admit to it or not—I know Thorne's only actually doing work to make me happy. I've never been able to convince him to take notes before. The most he's ever written is one full sentence, which was I don't like when you tell me what to do, Sunshine.

It's as he's doing his work and listening to Mr. Musgraves that I realize he must like me more than I thought he did. After all, it takes a lot to convince Thorne otherwise once he's made his mind up about something. And he's actually doing work, just because I asked him to.

Just when I thought I couldn't possibly fall for him any harder . . .