I'd be lying if I said I wasn't miserable.

My parents make my home life a living hell. Claiming that they can no longer trust me, they take my driving privileges away. If I'm not at school, I'm home. My parents have hardly spoken to me in days, often just staring at me as if they no longer know who I am. Maybe I deserve that. I don't quite recognize myself either. As time has gone on, I have changed. I used to think that was a good thing. Now I'm not so sure. When I look in the mirror, a stranger stares back at me.

Thorne doesn't show up to school over the next few days after we break up, not that I can blame him. Maybe it's better this way, where we don't have to see each other. I'm not sure what I would do if he were to walk into the building this instant. Maybe I'd cry and ignore his presence. Maybe I'd take it all back and beg him to forgive me. But we'll never know, because he doesn't appear. I know I shouldn't, but I worry about him. The last time Thorne didn't show up to school, he ended up being hurt pretty badly. Despite the fact that I called things off with him, I do still care. Maybe more than I should.

When Emmie finds out about my breakup with Thorne, she can't seem to believe it. She lends me her shoulder to cry on, asking me what happened. I can't tell her the truth, as the truth would hurt her, too. I can't even imagine telling her about Asher and what I found out about him, putting my friend through the pain I'm going through now. So instead I tell her half of the truth of why I broke it off with Thorne. I tell her the part about Saige showing up at my house and ratting me out to my parents. I keep the following Thorne to a bar and finding out that he's in a gang and has been lying to me the entire time we've been together part to myself.

Emmie surprises me by marching right up to Saige in the middle of the hallway, screaming at her in front of everyone. She asks how Saige could do such a thing to me, wondering how it's possible we were ever friends with her in the first place. But none of that matters now. It's all in the past.

It seems like the longer I go without Thorne, the more days that pass from our breakup, my pain only intensifies. I have to force myself not to call him, to tell him that he's all I want. I know I'm better off this way. I know I'm saving myself from worse pain in the future. So why does it feel so terrible now? Why do I hurt so badly, still?

It's February before I know it, which is crazy. How is it possible that I've already gone almost an entire month without Thorne? I see him around, which may be the worst part of all of this. He's everywhere, just as he was those first few months before we were dating. Only then, his constant presence in my life was a blessing. Now it is a curse. Thorne is no longer part of my world, yet I can't escape him. Why is it so hard to see him, even after all this time? Thorne doesn't even sit next to me in chemistry anymore, though I guess I can't blame him. What did I expect? That I would break his heart, though still have him treat me the way he used to?

I force myself out of the past and into the present. It's Saturday, and I sit on my couch staring at the TV blankly, not really paying attention to it. I'm too lost in thought, thinking of the past few days and wishing they were all just a dream.

"I can't believe it." I look up, a little startled to find my mom standing in the doorway of the living room. She appeared so silently I didn't even notice. There's a dazed expression on her face as she stares at me, the faintest of smiles on her lips. This sets me on edge, because I can't remember the last time she smiled at me. Not since Saige barged into my house and informed my parents of my . . . antics.

"All those months you had been sneaking around, going out with some troublesome boy. And I had no clue. I didn't even suspect that that's what you were up to." Mom shakes her head, staring at me as if she's not really seeing me. Her words startle me, because they sound nothing like her. Shouldn't she be screaming at me, telling me how irresponsible and ridiculous I've been recently? I mean, yelling has been pretty much the only way my parents and I have communicated these days.

Mom crosses into the room, taking a seat next to me on the couch. She doesn't sit stiffly or pretend I'm not in the room, as she has been for the past few weeks whenever we happen to be around each other. Instead she actually looks at me, her gaze meeting mine for the first time in what feels like forever. I mute the TV, catching the hint that she's about to have an actual conversation with me.

"What you did was wrong, Mia," Mom tells me. She doesn't have that you-are-about-to-die-I'm-so-mad-at-you tone that she's used to regard me with in recent days. She speaks in a proper voice, like she's stating a fact. "You shouldn't have lied. You shouldn't have kept such a big secret from your father and me. I'm disappointed in you for that." Mom purses her lips, shaking her head, that mysterious smile returning. She's acting so weird and unlike herself, it's starting to become unsettling.

With a sigh, she continues. "I didn't know this boy, Mia. I don't know what you did with him, but I trust that you had enough judgement not to let him pressure you into doing anything too bad. Whatever you two did together, you did always return home safely, so that's something. Maybe your dad and I have been hard on you, but we were shocked. We felt blindsided that you would keep something so big from us. Hurt, even."

"Mom, I'm—" Mom raises her hand to silence me, opening her mouth to speak again. My mouth closes immediately, as I've grown pretty used to getting fussed at by this point. I've reverted back to my old ways, I guess you could say. I guess the old Mia who didn't know how to stand up for herself never really died. Thorne just brought out the part of me that knew how to speak her mind. And maybe that part of me that Thorne always knew how to ignite hasn't really died, either. Maybe it's the kind of flame that never really goes out, just needs something to bring it to life every once in a while.

"When I was your age," Mom says, a far-off look suddenly appearing on her features, "there was this boy named Blake. He was the epitome of bad boy, if you know what I mean. And—for some reason—he was interested in me. As you can imagine, being the silly teenager I was, I immediately grasped at the chance to be with him. I started keeping things from my parents, sneaking out of the house to see him. Only, I was caught. Once I got in trouble with my parents, I started wondering if that boy had even been worth it." Mom shakes her head, biting her lip. "I guess my point is, you did the secret-boyfriend thing way better than I did." She lets out a little laugh, taking me by surprise. I even start to laugh a little too, shocked when she rests her hand on top of mine.

"I was wrong, Mia," Mom says softly, tears in her hazel eyes. "Your father and I were wrong to push you out the way we've been doing lately. We know we were hard on you, and we know we've always been hard on you. But we realized that if we want things to get better between us—if we want you to come to us when things like this happen—we have to work on that. We have to at least try to understand your point of view before we can just say your way is wrong and punish you."

Mom takes a deep breath, and suddenly I'm on edge. I think I know where Mom is going with this, and I can't quite believe it. I sit up and lean closer to my mother as she starts speaking again, my heart pounding.

"I don't like judging a book by its cover, honey," she tells me. "And instead of asking to meet this boy—Thorne, or whatever funny name he goes by—we just told you you weren't allowed to see him anymore. We went by what we heard about him instead of getting to know him, and that was wrong of us."

"Are you—?"

"Give me a minute," Mom cuts me off, giving me a you-know-what-I'm-about-to-say grin. "My point is, Mia, I don't know anything about this Thorne boy. All I know is that he goes by some ridiculous name, and for some reason my daughter thought she had to keep him a secret from her parents. And was I angry when I heard what you'd been up to? Yes. But more than that, Mia, I was hurt. I couldn't comprehend why you felt the need to keep your first boyfriend such a big secret, unless you thought you were doing something you shouldn't be doing. But, as much as you've surprised me these past few weeks, I've always known my daughter. I've always known who you are at heart."

It's hard to hear my mother's words and believe them. How can it be that my mother knows who I am, who I've always been, when even I don't? I've always struggled with my identity, with knowing who I am. Sometimes I am a girl who believes she is invisible to the world. Sometimes I am a girl who believes she's stronger than she really is. And sometimes, I am simply a girl. A girl who is shy and makes mistakes, who laughs and cries, and wanted to believe that the boy who flipped her entire world upside down would stay in her world forever.

My voice is hoarse as I whisper, "Then who am I?"

My mom gives me a sad smile, squeezing my hand in her own tightly. "You're my daughter, Mia," Mom tells me, as if I didn't already know this. "You're the same girl you've always been. Your heart is bigger than this world and made of gold. You care about others sometimes more than you care about yourself. Sometimes love is blind to you, which some may mistake as naivety. And now that I've had time to think and process what you've been up to, it just hit me. My daughter isn't stupid. She'd never do something if she didn't feel she had to. And she'd never date a boy she thought was bad news. So, clearly, there was a reason you kept this Thorne boy a secret. But more than that, there was a reason you dated him in the first place. You saw something in him. You choose to see the good in people, Mia. And I know that you must have seen good in him."

My gaze flickers downward, because for some reason my eyes have started to well with tears. It's hard to think about Thorne at all. It's hard to remember what we had. It's hard to think about the night everything crashed and burned. They say wounds heal with time, but time seems to be only wounding me more.

"I did, Mom," I croak, voice thick with tears. "He was everything I always wanted to be."

A moment of silence passes between us. And then I can't take it anymore. I start to cry, suddenly feeling very overwhelmed. My mother pulls me into her arms, holding me tightly as I sob. She runs her hand through my hair, whispering comforting words in my ear. This is what I've needed from her throughout this entire time, I realize. Sometimes, that's all anyone ever needs. To be held by their mother as they cry.

"I'm so sorry, honey," Mom whispers to me, rocking back and forth gently with me in her arms. "I'm so sorry for not seeing how bad you're hurting sooner on. You needed me, and I let you down."

"I love him, Mom," I choke out, crying into her chest. And loving Thorne is probably the worst curse of all. It's what makes all of this hurt so much.

Mom cups my face in her hands, wiping my tears away with her thumbs. She smiles at me, a little sadly, as if she is only just realizing that her little girl has finally grown up. Although, I don't feel so grown in this moment, sobbing to my mommy like I'm still a little girl.

"If you feel so strongly about this boy." Mom hesitates, as if she can't believe she's about to say what she's going to say next. "Then maybe your father and I should give him a chance. I'm willing to at least meet him once before saying you're not allowed to see him."

I shake my head, my bottom lip quivering. "You don't understand, Mom," I tell her, tears trailing down my cheeks all over again. "I broke up with him. We're not . . . I can't . . ." My words are interrupted by another sob, and I bury my face in my hands as I begin to cry all over again.

"Honey." Mom rests a hand on my knee, and I peek at her through my hands. "If you care about this boy so much, and if he cares about you, a breakup shouldn't matter. Because when two people really care about each other, nothing else gets in the way of that. Love is a choice. Whatever you two are going through, you can choose to get through it together. One mistake shouldn't stop you from being with the person you love."

I drop my hands to my sides, staring at my mother in disbelief. Where is the woman who could hardly look at me only a few days ago? What made her finally come around? More importantly: Why am I so hesitant to take her advice? All I want to do is be with Thorne, but my mother doesn't know what I know about him. How could I ever trust him again, knowing what I know now?

"What are you saying?" I question, not really wanting my mother to answer. Because I know exactly what she's saying, and I just don't know if what she's insinuating is what I really need to hear right now.

"I'm saying." Mom gives me a warm smile that starts to make me feel just the tiniest bit better. "That you should go talk to him. Because just like I shouldn't have punished you without hearing you out, maybe you shouldn't let this one go without hearing him out." There's a mischievous glint in my mother's eyes as she grins at me, saying, "Besides, I want to meet the boy my daughter was so willing to disobey my rules for."

"I'm sorry," I tell my mother, really meaning it. "I should have told you what I was up to. I shouldn't have lied to you."

"Trust me." Mom snorts, rolling her eyes. "I know. And just because I'm encouraging you to make things right with this boy doesn't mean you're not still in trouble, do you understand me?"

I nod, the faintest hint of a smile working its way across my lips. Maybe my mom is right. Maybe I should go talk to Thorne. Hear him out. Try to understand what he's going through, and why he felt the need to hide things from me. I mean, I was being pretty hypocritical to him, I guess. The entire time we'd been dating, I'd been hiding him from my family and keeping our relationship secret. And maybe I'm wrong. Maybe there are things I don't know about Thorne, and maybe I shouldn't jump to conclusions before allowing myself to figure them out. Besides, if I haven't stopped loving him by now, will I ever? And when you love someone, all you want to do is be with them. And, despite myself, that's all I want. To be with Thorne.

Before I can decide whether I should risk going to see Thorne or not, my mom unconsciously makes the decision for me by slipping my car keys into my hand. She gives me a knowing smile, as if understanding that there is something I have to go do.

"Go on," Mom tells me with a slight nod. "You'll never know if you never try."

I take a deep breath, staring at my keys in my hand. Just the thought of going to see Thorne after all this time makes me nervous, but I feel something else too. Butterflies flutter in my stomach, filling me with some sort of excitement. Maybe we could take things slow. Maybe we won't get back together right away. I hate to even think it, but maybe Thorne and I will never get back together. Maybe we're just too different. But it won't hurt to at least go hear him out, right? I mean, I never really gave him a chance to defend himself the night I broke things off. I could give him that chance now.

As I rise from the couch and head toward the front door, a sense of purpose begins to fill me. Because maybe this is the worst idea I've ever had. Or maybe it's the best. All I know is that, for the first time in days, I feel like me again.

And, just like always, that's because of Thorne.