Thorn hasn't blabbed yet. But that doesn't ease my mind. Knowing him, he'll probably let it slip out somehow, even if he doesn't mean to.

  The thought of my family finding out about Jade brings another cascade of the same old worries—a confrontation, a fight, them hunting him like a dog...

  The worst part is, it's not even that they hate humans so much on principle. I just know that no matter what I say, they'll come to their own conclusions about us, and they'll act no matter how much I yell and scream and cry at them.

  Like my words don't mean anything to them. Like they know what's best for me. Like they even know me at all.

  When the plants tell me Jade has entered my forest, it's accompanied with a twist in my stomach. I preen my hair to distract myself, brushing away excess dirt and dust before he makes it to my den.

  When he pokes his head in, I lumber towards the door like I'm surprised. "Hey. What brings you here?"

  "We're almost done with the manuscript!" he says brightly. He reaches into his satchel as he talks. "I've finished my sketches for the book, and now it's going through final review and editing." He pulls out a container, the contents of which I already know. "I made you more cookies as thanks!"

  I accept the container and start eating one right away. His peace offering—and his smile, I suppose—have a way of melting my anxiety, if only for a moment. He follows me to my kitchen, where I take a seat on one of my stones. "That's great." A tiny bit of genuine pride breaks through my aloof voice.

  "How have you been holding up?" He sits across from me.

  I let out a sigh as I demolish his cookies. "Thorn keeps pestering me. He says Mom and Dad are going to kill me when they find out about..." I stop myself before saying "us," as if it's an official thing and not just a fantasy.

  Jade frowns. "Oh." He looks sadder the longer my words hang in the air. "I'm sorry."

  "It's not your fault," I mutter, even though it kinda is. "They're just stupid. They're all stupid!"

  "Yeah."

  "If they'd listen to me for five minutes, this wouldn't be a problem!"

  "Uh-huh."

  "It's not like we're doing anything wrong. Is being—" I falter. "Is being friends such a crime?"

  "I know."

  "But they don't listen to me! They never listen to me. Nobody does." I let my tail lash, and I set his cookies aside. "It's always the same. Telling me how to live my life, criticizing me. For once, I just wish somebody would sit down and—and—"

  "I'll listen to you."

  I lose my train of thought and look at him. "You're sure? I rant a lot."

  He just shrugs. "Well, you listened to me. It's only fair."

  I narrow my eyes and think. "Fine, then. In exchange for hearing me rant, I'll give you permission to draw me, just this once."

  "Oh!" Jade perks up and pulls out his notebook. "Okay!"

  I tell him my life story from the moment I grew from the ground up until now. Every frustration, every petty argument, every pent-up emotion, I let out for once. He doesn't say very much, just looks up and nods to let me know he's paying attention as he draws.

  At first, it's cathartic. When I say my thoughts out loud, they feel justified. Yeah, Thorn shouldn't have shirked dinner duties so much. Dad shouldn't have spent so many late nights out of the den when we could have been together as a family. Mom should have hugged me more, and told me I'm okay, and that she's proud of me, and that she loves me, and that I'm a good daughter.

  But...

  When the anger wears off, and I've said my piece, I'm left with some other feeling in my chest. It's not the hot rage I'm used to. It's quiet, and sad, and empty, and I hate it.

  I stop talking and blink rapidly. No, sweet dahlias, no! I fight back the cascade building behind my eyes, damming it up stubbornly like I have so many times before. But just this once, it doesn't want to stop. Just this once, the tears slip through, gathering at the edges of my eyes until gravity pulls them over my face.

  Jade stops drawing and looks up. "Are you okay?"

  I wipe my eyes roughly with my palm, again and again, but it doesn't help. "I'm fine!"

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  "Do you need a hug?"

  My chest contracts, and my response is swallowed as my face scrunches with another river of tears. It's too late to stop now. I close my eyes and cover them with my claws. And I begin to cry.

  And not a silent, pretty cry, either. Nope. Full on, dry-heaving, ugly, humiliating sobs that wrack my body.

  I hear Jade stand up. Then, his warm arms wrap around me. He scoots onto the rock next to me, pulling my hideous face into his chest. I press my eyes into the fabric of his cloak, nearly nicking his chin with my horns as I do.

  This is not how I wanted this rant to go.

  I'm not sure how long I spend sniveling before I start to calm down again. Jade doesn't let go, even when my tears stain his clothes with gross plant water.

  I take deep breaths, recentering myself at last. When I'm not sobbing, the quality of Jade's hug becomes apparent. He's a great hugger. His hug is warm, and tight, and comforting enough to offset my embarrassment. I guess it makes sense that if anyone would give good hugs, it would be a human, those experts in physical comfort.

  Jade sniffles. I reluctantly pull back enough to see his face. Tears are streaming down his cheeks, too.

  I wrinkle my nose, mustering some attitude back into my words. "Why are you crying?"

  "Because you're crying, and that makes me sad." He hiccups.

  "Okay, that's enough pity." I pull away from him, but don't scoot too far. There isn't a ton of room on the rock, so I twist myself around and let my shoulder rest against his. I pull my tail into my lap and start picking at the flowers, more so giving my hands something to do than trying to get rid of them.

  We sit in silence while I get my bearings.

  Finally, I speak. "I don't...I don't like being angry all the time," I mumble. "It feels bad. But it's the only thing I know how to be."

  Jade brings his arm around me and rubs my shoulder. "Well, you could let yourself be sad more often," he offers. "It's okay to cry. If you always try to stop it, your anger will just take its place."

  Yeah, yeah. That's just emotions 101. "It isn't just that," I continue. "I feel sorry for myself now, but I still hate them for making me feel like...this," I gesture to all of me.

  In his silence, I can sense his unasked question, "you don't really hate them, do you?" I've never said it out loud before, but it's true. I do hate them. But that just makes me feel worse. They did this to me, so why am I the one feeling awful for it?

  "They didn't treat you well," he finally says. "I know that hurts. But, if you want to stop being angry..." He pauses. "Um, sorry."

  "What?" I look at him sharply. "What do I need to do?"

  "I don't want to sound like I'm lecturing you."

  "Please, I'll do anything! I don't want to go on like this. What do you know?"

  His brow furrows. "You need to forgive them."

  Thorns sharpen on my arms, and he lifts his hand in response. I get why he didn't want to tell me. "Why should I forgive them? They're my parents, my family! They were supposed to support me."

  Jade's face softens. "I know. But nobody is perfect."

  "Well they didn't have to be perfect, just better." I turn away. "So you want me to let it all go? But what about the future? Nothing will change if I do that! They'll still make me angry, I'll just be more of a doormat."

  He stops to think. "Well...if you want to confront them, and hope for a change, that's one thing. But you have to forgive them first."

  "Why?!"

  "Because if you try to make a change without forgiving them, you might just be looking for an excuse to burn that bridge. It's dangerous."

  "Maybe some bridges should be burned," I mumble.

  Jade lets out a breath. "I know it's not easy. I'm still trying to forgive my roommate, too. But Thistle...you aren't perfect, either."

  I look away. Like I don't know that more than anyone.

  "Sorry. I want you to know that I really appreciate you, and I like being around you. And even when you're mean, you're not really mean, you know? I've lived my whole life around mean people. I can tell when somebody doesn't like me, when they've decided I'm weird. But you?" He pauses for a really long time. "You never make me feel like there's something wrong with me."

  A deep part of me knows I should respond in kind, but something keeps my mouth sealed shut. I blink my eyes rapidly, fearing another cascade, this one born from shame rather than sadness.

  "I just don't want to see you become bitter. I hope you don't hate me."

  I force out a sigh. "Of course I don't hate you. I'll think about it. Okay?"

  "Okay."

  "Can we talk about something else now?"

  "Of course."

  Jade shows me his drawings. There's some where I'm smiling, some where I'm angry, some where I'm flustered, one where I'm sad...all in detail, crafted with care. Before the sun goes down and he has to leave, I tell him he can draw me whenever he'd like.

  For the next few days, Jade's words never seem to leave my head. Sometimes they disturb me, sometimes they annoy me. Sometimes they make me want to tell him to get out of my territory and never come here ever again. But that feeling only brings more disgust.

  As I'm staring up at my ceiling, knowing that Jade is on his way here, a thought comes to my mind.

  If I don't forgive my family, and if I stay angry at everything they do wrong...what does that mean for me and Jade?

  What if, one day, he does wrong me? Does something worse than trying to give me advice I don't want to hear? Will I stay angry at him then?

  I don't dwell on the fact that I'm imagining this as if I have a future with him. But the thought continues, nonetheless.

  Will I stew on what he did, thinking only about how he's done me wrong until he apologizes? Will I look for an excuse to condemn him, to justify breaking away from him instead of holding him accountable? Will I hate him for it?

  And what if he does apologize? Will I stay angry? Will I hold it over his head? Will I keep score and make sure he never forgets the one thing he did?

  With sudden clarity, I see it all in my head, and I realize something.

  That's not the kind of person I want to be.

  Jade enters my den, looking somewhat sheepish at the doorway. Of course, he has a box of cookies with him. "Um, Thistle? Can I come in?"

  I jump down from my bedroom and walk up to him. And then, I give him a big hug.

  He startles. "Huh?"

  My hug is awkward, and probably too tight. I let him go and back away. "Of course you can come in."

  His face is redder than a raspberry. "Uh—okay!"

  I laugh, then look away. "I thought about what you said. I think I want to try forgiveness."

  When I look at Jade again, he's grinning widely. "That's great."

  I pluck out a few stray flowers at that. "Um, where do I begin?"

  "Well, choosing to forgive and actually forgiving are two different things," he explains. "But the latter usually follows the former. I'll give you some advice. But first?" He opens his box and holds out a cookie.

  I snatch it from his hand and nibble on it. Maybe this will make the process a little easier.