Hope and Faith

THIRTY: HOPE

Her alarm went off at seven a.m. sharp. She had spent the past two days in bed, telling her parents that she must have caught a stomach bug, or contracted food poisoning. Both Joana and Gabriel were perplexed, but they never had a reason to doubt her. It might have been the eggs, Joana concluded.

Hope couldn't afford to miss any more days of camp. She would rise with the sun, she would put on a smile, and she would get through the day, regardless of how difficult it proved.

Images of Faith were still circulating through her mind. Every time she thought she was getting better, slowly ridding herself of any thoughts of Faith, another one would appear, out of nowhere. She'd be drinking a smoothie, or reading a book, and then suddenly: Faith.

Hope believed that she was earnestly ill. Not physically, but mentally. There must be something wrong with her to explain these thoughts and delusions. Sexual deviancy was the term that kept replaying through her mind. Was that what she was? A homosexual deviant?

She shuddered at the thought. No, she wasn't that. She had Matthew. The two were soulmates and they were going to get married. She held onto her promise ring with her other hand. A reminder of the life and the future that lay ahead of her.

This was all just one big misunderstanding, she kept telling herself. There's nothing wrong with me.

She did her hair and brushed her teeth, avoiding eye contact with her reflection in the mirror. She didn't want to look at herself; her own image made her sick. She was disgusted with herself. Disgusted with her behaviour and her thoughts. Her own mind had betrayed her. How could she ever trust her own thoughts again?

The morning passed remarkably slow. That always seemed to be the case, didn't it? While most days Hope had fun and enjoyed her time at camp, it always seemed to pass by too fast, right before her eyes. Now – a time where she couldn't wait to leave and go home – seemed to be dragging on by the hours.

It was at lunch time when she finally saw her. She was standing in line to get her food. Hope felt the fire ignite through her body, shuddering at the goosebumps that arose on her skin. Her body was betraying her once again, reacting positively to the image of seeing Faith. She quickly turned and left the room, finding haven inside the bathroom stall.

She remained hidden away in there for the remaining lunch hour, hoping to avoid Faith for as long as she could. She'd tell Sister Judeline to banish her from camp if she had to. Anything it took. Hope would make sure that Faith never stepped foot at St. Andrew's again.

______

After camp had concluded for the day, Hope gathered her belongings and left immediately. She walked down the street with her head down, avoiding eye contact with anyone she passed. When she arrived at home, she was caught off guard to see Matthew waiting on her front porch.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, taken back.
"Waiting for you," he stood from his spot on the top step an3d walked towards her. He took her into his arms and kissed her forehead. "How was your day?"
"It was fine," she said, pulling away.
"You feeling better then?"
She nodded.
"I'm glad. At least it was only a forty-eight-hour bug."
"Yeah, well..." Hope looked to her front door and shifted on her feet.
"Want to go to the diner and get milkshakes? Or ice cream? Whatever you want."
Hope hesitated. She thought about saying no. Declining her lovely boyfriend's offer to instead go inside and rack her brain, tormenting herself. But what good would that do? She was only harming herself.
"Sure," she looked at him and smiled. "Let me just put my stuff away."

Twenty minutes later, they were seated in Frenchie's diner, drinking their milkshakes. They got the same thing every time: chocolate for Matthew, strawberry for Hope.

"My uncle used to make his own ice cream from his cow's milk," Matthew explained. "And then he'd make the most amazing milkshakes. It was our family tradition."
"I bet they didn't taste as good as these."
"No," he said. "Better."
She fiddled with the straw between her fingers and took another sip. Her stomach wasn't feeling as ill as it was yesterday, but she knew she wasn't completely back to normal yet. Her entire body still felt off. And if she thought about her – Faith – then the anxiety in her stomach would return. She needed to keep her mind busy, think about anything but Faith.
"So how's Faith been lately?" Matthew asked.
Hope nearly choked on her drink.
"You okay?" he offered her a napkin.
"I'm fine," she grabbed it and wiped her mouth. Then she cleared her throat and looked away.
"Last you told me, she was in the city for the weekend, right? You haven't talk about her since."
"There's nothing to say."
"Did the two of you get in a fight or something?"
"Yes," Hope said. "Yes, actually we did. She brought a cat over to my place. It's a long story."
"A cat? Where is it now?"
"It ran away."
"Oh." Matthew stared at her. "So you're not talking to her?"
Hope shook her head. "Let's change the subject, okay?"