Hope and Faith

THIRTY-TWO: HOPE

It was Friday night and Hope was alone in her bedroom. Her parents were downstairs watching a movie, and Matthew was at his house spending the evening with family friends. The girls had invited Hope to a bonfire with them, but Hope politely declined. It was one thing to force a smile and go out for milkshakes with Matthew earlier, but now, she simply couldn't see herself leaving the house. She just wanted to stay inside, under the covers, where nothing could ruin her mood. Albeit, her mood was already tarnished to begin with.

She would allow herself this little bit of alone time to sulk and think. She would allow her mind to go to the places she didn't want it to, and she would consider the consequences. She had been avoiding doing this all week. But now she had nowhere else to run. She had to face it. She had to analyze everything that she had been experiencing.

Here was what she knew: Faith was her friend. Someone she had grown extremely close to in a short period of time. They hung out. They laughed. They told each other secrets. But was there something more to it? Some internal, subconscious feelings that neither of them had recognized?

She always knew that her friendship with Faith was different, right from the get-go. She contrasted her friendship with Faith to her friendship with the girls and nothing seemed to compare. Things with Faith were different, it was obvious. Just how different, though, Hope could not be sure.

But if Faith had feelings for Hope, how did Hope not know? And if Hope, too, had feelings for Faith, how did she herself not know?

The words scattered across her mind in a flash: sexual deviancy.

She was about to push them away, yet again, but she knew she couldn't. She had told herself that she would think about this critically, analyzing it all. And in order to do so, she needed to consider all possibilities.

Was she a sexual deviant? A homosexual of sorts? Normally, she simply would have disregarded the thought and concluded that it was ridiculous, preposterous, and impossible. Hope was not gay. She couldn't be. It was one of the greatest sins she could commit. But then there was that kiss. The electricity that ran through her body. The nauseous feeling that haunted her all week. The spins, the shakes, the flashes of Faith.

She knew what it was. She had always known what it was, right from the very moment it happened. She was just too afraid to admit it to herself. And the truth was this: Faith's kiss hadn't left her feeling ill all week from regret and disgrace. No, quite the opposite. She was feeling this way because, in that moment, she had enjoyed it. And that was what scared her most.

______

It was late by the time Hope got to her door. It had taken all of the strength inside her to fight the internal struggle that was in her mind. She could have stayed in bed, ignored the realities of the real world, and never had to face the consequences. But she knew that was the easy way out. And Hope didn't play life on the easy side.

Besides, she had to know for sure. She had to identify these feelings and emotions that were bursting from inside of her to be certain of what they were, what they meant. If she simply ignored them, then she would never truly know.

She had only been to Faith's house once or twice, either dropping something off or walking her home after they had hung out. But she knew it by heart. Had memorized the steps it took to get there. She could feel the apprehension seeping through her body as she approached the front door.

Hope rang the doorbell and waited patiently. It was after ten o'clock. She hoped that she wasn't disturbing Faith's mother. Or Faith, for that matter. But she knew better than anybody that Faith wouldn't be going to sleep for a long time.