28. Chapter 28

28

Hope

"Why do you think I got a D?" Marie is beside me the second the Chemistry class ends.

I start gathering my things. "I'll need to see your test paper."

With a huff, she looks through her backpack and pulls it out. She makes a bitter face. "I swear I hate Chemistry. It's the most annoying subject ever."

I stifle a smile, knowing my amusement won't help the situation. Clearly, we have different opinions—it doesn't bother me that much, my weakness is History. I hate remembering the timelines and the many series of events that happen in between those.

"You scored a B when I gave you the notes."

With a snap of her fingers, she points at me. "Hah! Yes! That's the key. Your notes. Your amazing, superb notes."

I laugh at her exaggeration.

Averting my gaze to her test paper, I look at the mistakes she's made. So far, there are a lot of big ones that are related to concepts and some minor ones in the calculations. A few study sessions will fix them.

We're in the hallway walking to our next class when someone knocks their shoulder into me. The collision makes me miss a step and I almost stumble. Marie quickly reaches for my arm and steadies me.

"Oh my God! You okay?" Marie asks, worry thick in her tone.

I give her a nod and turn around only to see a smiling Shian looking at me.

"Missed your step I see," she says with a proud smile.

Before I say something, Marie gets in front of me. "You did that on purpose."

Shian scoffs and sizes up the two of us like we're nothing compared to her. We're probably not. She's got her friends standing behind her like a shield. Four of them against us two. Yeah, we're not winning this battle.

I study her and almost gasp when I find my bracelets on her wrist.

"I don't have time for you two weirdos." She walks away, deciding we're not worth her time. I bet it's not that but the regulations against bullying that'll result in immediate expulsion. I don't know what happened last year that made the principal take such a step. I'm not aware of the incident because at the time my parents were fighting every day. It was a mess at home. To escape reality, I read books. The outside world just disappeared and became nonexistent to me. I hope whoever was the victim is doing okay.

Marie gasps. "Weirdos? Us? She's the weird one. I'm not. And neither are you, Hope. We're both not weird ones. We're the cool ones. Well, more like mysterious ones and I'm fine with it. And you're fine with it too. Anyway, she shouldn't have said that. Not that I care but still. I mean—" she turns to me and stops talking.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

"Nothing."

"Tell me, you look happy."

Leaning down to her ear—Marie is an inch shorter than me—I whisper, "I saw her wearing my bracelets."

"Your bracelets? The ones you…"

I nod eagerly.

She giggles and I join her, sharing a secret that only the two of us know in this entire town. Well, Heath and Sebastian know, too.

"And she called us weirdos."

I shrug, not really caring about it.

"This just made my day."

"I think everything makes your day."

She thinks for a moment, then nods. "Yeah, you're right. Everything makes me happy, but Sebastian ranks in first spot."

"Because he's your boyfriend."

She hums in a dismissive tone. "Yes, but it's more than that. He's my best friend and I just love spending time with him. I can spend a lifetime with him and not get bored. We usually play games or make out. Either is fun, as long as I'm next to him. He has this calming aura that puts my super-energy to rest. All I want to do is curl up against him and relax."

Just like how Heath makes me feel comfortable.

Heat rises to my cheeks, as I remember snuggling in the backseat of his car with him. That was the safest I'd ever felt in so long. The hardness of his chest, the rhythm of his heart, and the intense heat of his body—everything about him is perfect. I can't believe he let me get this close to him. I'd like it if it happens again.

Wait what?

Marie snaps her fingers in front of my face. "Hey, where did you go?"

Shaking my head, I disperse those stupid thoughts.

Gosh. I'm developing feelings for Heath—not like the ones I have for my fictional men.

This is different.

These feelings are real .

"I…"

She holds up her hand. "How about you hang out with me at my place after school? We can study and you can tell me what you were thinking about."

I don't have any reason to decline. Dad has a deadline of eight o'clock. I'll hopefully be home by then. Until then I can hang out with her and tell Dad that I was at the library. It's not like he's going to search for me—or maybe he will since I've become his punching bag lately.

"I need to be home before eight," I tell Marie, hoping she doesn't ask too many questions.

Instead, she frowns. "Wait? You have a curfew too?"

More like a death threat, if you ask me. "Yeah."

She rolls her eyes. "Here I thought my dad was the only paranoid one in the town. I have a curfew too. Same as yours. If I'm a second late he looks disappointed, and I hate disappointing my dad."

"Oh, so he doesn't… get mad?"

"Mad? No. Never. My dad has never gotten mad at me. Well, there was this one time when—" A dark look crosses her face, and she shuts up. It's the first time I've ever seen Marie look like this. "—all he did was lecture me, but that was it." She recovers quickly.

I wonder what happened. I don't think she was abused… well… I've never seen a mark on Marie, so I don't think she's being abused, but then again, when people want to hide things they do it so well that you'd be surprised.

Look at me. None of the three friends that I have know what happened to me. I don't blame them for not knowing. I'm glad they don't. It's not their burden. I don't want them to worry about me and try to help me because it'll all end in vain.

"Anyway, we'll go to my place after school. Done?"

I give her a nod before going to my next class.

Marie is filthy rich. The kind of rich that competes with Heath on every level.

Like him, she lives in a beautiful mansion. The cobblestone driveway is lined with trees and flower plants and a sprawling garden on one side. A gardener is working on a bush with hedge shears, giving it a definite shape. Two bodyguards in suits linger around the main gate, keeping a watchful eye on us as we move down the driveway.

Parking her car in a huge marble-floor garage with recessed ceiling lights, she gets out. I follow her and stifle a gasp when I see the other luxurious cars.

"C'mon."

Marie grabs my hand and leads me up the porch steps to the glass door that has an intricate design on it. Swinging it open, she pulls me inside into the foyer. A massive chandelier hangs above, adorned with crystals that bounce off the golden light. Nature paintings, colorful vases, and antique pieces decorate the entrance, setting down the fact that everything here costs thousands and millions.

"Mom. Dad." Marie calls out while dragging me to the living room that's as lavish as the rest of the house. Victorian sofa sets sit in the center of the room with a glass table in between them. There are magazines, a vase with fresh flowers, and packs of biscuits on top of it.

Heels click on the floor.

"Marie, you're home, love." A feminine voice speaks, and then a tall, slim woman with dark brown hair appears in the doorway. She has light blue eyes that resemble the color of the sky, and facial features that are closely similar to Marie's. She looks stunning in a beige dress and white heels that click on the marble floor as she makes her way into the room. She's graceful.

I'm staring at her when Marie meets her halfway with me by her side.

"Mom, this is Hope." Marie quickly introduces me before I have any time to recover.

Marie's mom turns to me, and she smiles—much like her daughter, with it reaching her eyes.

"Hope Hanson, the girl who loves reading books, makes bracelets, scores A-plus in every subject, and makes perfect Chemistry notes." She grins. "I feel like I already know you. My daughter has told me everything about you. It's so nice to finally meet you. I'm Marie's mom. You can call me Camila, no need to stick with Mrs. Anderson."

I'm too stunned to speak.

Marie's mom is a carbon copy of her. No wonder she's always so positive, smiling, and just a ray of sunshine.

"I… it's nice to meet you, too," I sputter out a complete sentence. I should pat myself on the back.

Her eyes brighten. "You have no idea how much Marie talks about you. It's all she's ever—"

"Mom!" Marie protests with a face as red as a tomato.

I'm focused on the fact that she's told her mom about me. When I told my parents they didn't believe I could have friends.

The irony.

Camila laughs. "It's the truth, love. We don't hear about your games anymore. It's been months since you told me how far you've made it in the Elden Ring."

"That's not important anymore," Marie says.

Camila nods in agreement. "Exactly. Hope is more important. Your first girl best friend in the world."

Marie flushes at those words and I can't help but smile. She's my first girl best friend in the world, too.

"Now, how about you two rest a bit in your room and I bring you snacks?" Camila offers, looking excited.

I quickly shake my head. "Oh no. You don't have to Mrs—I mean Camila," I whisper.

"Yes, stick with that, love." She gives me a thumbs-up.

I only manage to give her a nod.

Marie jumps in. "Mom, please bring that chocolate you got from London. Hope loves chocolate."

My jaw hangs.

Oh my God.

I want to disappear.

Evaporate out of existence.

In sheer panic, I croak out, "No. I don't. I don't like chocolate."

Marie frowns. "What? That's not true. I know you love chocolate. Heath told me."

"Heath was the one to find that out, huh?" Camila asks with a smirk.

Marie turns to her. "Yeah. He knows everything she likes or doesn't like. Because he likes her."

Because he likes her. That's the only bit I focus on .

Camila grins. "Finally. You and I have been waiting for it."

"Yeah."

I don't have to look in the mirror to know I'm as red as blood because all the vessels in my face have exploded from embarrassment.

"That's not true," I say.

Both Marie and Camila turn to me. Their smiles and eyes filled with optimism.

Marie speaks first. "He does."

"I agree," Camila adds.

Before I can ask them more, a woman interrupts us, and Camila leaves with her to bring us snacks.

Marie turns to me. "Why'd you say you don't like chocolate? You love chocolate."

I fold my arms over my chest to make myself as small as I can. Sometimes, I wish that was possible. I could hold myself and become invisible. The invisibility cloak forever rests on my shoulders, so whenever I'm feeling like it I can quickly hide under it.

"I don't want to bother your mom," I say, feeling my chest tighten with guilt.

Marie rests her hand over my shoulder. "Trust me, you can never bother my mom. Especially when she loves you. I've told her so many things about you and she always asked me to bring you around. She loves the people who love her people. Because of me, she loves Sebastian and Heath. You know how grumpy Heath is, but even he softens under her kindness and love. She's just that amazing."

"Like you," I blurt out.

She shakes her head, a sad look flashing across her face. "I'm not half the person she is. She's way too perfect."

I take her hand off my shoulder and squeeze her fingers. "After seeing you two, I'd say you're very similar. Maybe you're not like her, but you're also not less than her. I see a lot of her in you and maybe that's why I will be able to get comfortable around her like I did with you."

Instantly a wide smile plasters on her face, and she nods.

"Let's go. I'll show you my room." Marie takes my hand, like it's second nature to her, and leads me to the staircase that has an elegant metal design handrail.

I knew Marie was rich but seeing it with my eyes it's different. I'm reminded of the fact how different we are. Family wise, money-wise, and even as individuals. I don't deserve her, much less be her best friend.

We walk down a hallway and finally reach her room. Pushing the door open she bounces on her feet as she pulls me inside and shuts the door.

Her room is five times bigger than mine—it's huge. The walls are painted in a soft pink and the white ceiling has a small crystal chandelier hanging from it that looks beautiful. The king-size bed is neatly made with pink pillows arranged against the white headboard and a matching duvet that sits folded at the end. There are nightstands on either side of the bed; the right one has a white journal and pen next to it and the left one has glasses and a laptop with white headphones set on top of it. There's a vanity set near the tall windows overlooking the garden with every makeup accessory and jewelry put together in little cups and boxes.

"C'mon, let's lie down," Marie says as she dumps both of our bags on the floor and plops on the bed with a heavy sigh.

I stand next to her bed, not sure if I should join her or wait for her to tell me what to do.

Marie turns her head at me and rolls her eyes. She pats the spot next to her. "Join me."

Removing my shoes as quickly as possible, I lie down beside her.

"Your room is beautiful, Marie. It looks straight out of a magazine."

She breaks into a fit of laughter. "That's interesting because it is indeed straight out of a magazine. When I started therapy—" she freezes.

"I didn't know you went to therapy," I mumble.

Breaking free from the shock, she takes a deep breath and doesn't speak for five minutes. I watch her inhale long breaths, hold them in, then let them out. It appears to be a breathing exercise that helps her because she starts to look like herself.

All the while I stay quiet and give her the space to be okay. I want her to know she's safe with me and she can trust me—kind of a hypocrite, but I will get there someday.

When she opens her eyes, she looks better. "I still go to therapy. Once a month because I'm doing much better now."

I smile at her.

"I haven't told you this, the therapy part and the things that led to it because it's still fresh. I mean I started therapy in January, and it's been a couple of months, but it's helped me so much. I was lost, sad, depressed, confused, angry, erratic and so many other things. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I truly thought I was going crazy and there was nothing that could save me. I…" She gulps hard as if the next words are difficult for her to speak. "I thought about dying. I thought about it every single day for months. I visualized how everyone would feel if I just left. I felt good for myself because then I'd be free from this pain, ache, hollowness, and emptiness I carried around with me. But I also saw the faces of people who'd be devastated to lose me. My parents, my brother, Heath, and Sebastian. Five people. Five lives that'd change because I decided to die."

Tears are rushing down my eyes.

I can't believe it.

Marie thought about dying.

If she died, then I wouldn't have met her.

Somehow, that feels like the greatest loss of my life.

Nothing would have been the same.

Her gaze is focused on a random spot on the bed, not aware of my tears and the pain I'm feeling for her. Is this how friendship works? You're able to feel each other's emotions as if they are your own. If this is friendship then I'm glad I have friends who make me feel this way. I want to share their pain and make them feel better. I want them to know they aren't alone.

There's so much I want to do to save them—anything.

"My dad was the one who encouraged me to go to therapy. He talked to me every evening about it, he knew how I felt and there was nothing he could do. He wanted to save me, he just didn't know how to. But he understood that someone else could. In two weeks, he visited multiple doctors until he was satisfied with three of them. He went with me to each of them until I decided on Ivanna Onley who saved my life. If it weren't for her I wouldn't be here. But I guess the credit goes to my dad before her. Every weekend he took me to her office in the city. I went to her on Friday and Sunday. For those three days, we stayed at an apartment he rented out and spent time together. He talked to me for hours and gave me all the reasons why I needed to stay because people loved me. Sometimes Mom came with me too, and she was equally supportive and loving. My parents saved me, and I love them so much."

A sob breaks out of me and instantly catches Marie's attention. Her own eyes fill with tears.

"You don't need to cry. I'm fine now. I promise. Geez, you're like Sebastian. He started crying when I told him everything. You both are cry-babies." She wraps her arms around me and consoles me.

"I'm so sorry that you felt that way. It's terrible and hurts so much," I tell her in an annoying voice between my hiccups.

She rubs my back. "I know but it's not terrible anymore. I'm good. I'm fucking incredible."

"Do you really mean that?"

"Yeah. I really mean that."

Assured with her answer, I wipe away my tears and wrap my arms around her. I hold onto her tightly, letting her know that she means a lot to me, more than I could ever put into words.

A knock on the door separates us, a few seconds later Camila walks in holding a tray with two mugs, biscuits, and chocolate packets.

My stomach grumbles at the sight of food. I missed lunch because I didn't want to spend the little money I earned. As Heath advised I want to invest so I can make more money and be able to do something in case Mom kicks me out.

With how aggressive Dad is getting toward me, I want to leave. I want to get away from the place they call home. It hasn't been that in years. When I was little I was too naive to understand what fear was, but now that I'm old I know what it feels like, and I don't want to live every day in it. I want to be safe. I want to be okay. I want to be alive.

Marie quickly opens a chocolate bar and hands it to me. Her eyes fill with excitement, and she squeaks. "Try it. Try it, Hope!"

I take it from her. The sweet taste of the hard chocolate swirls into my mouth before it melts away.

"It's the best chocolate ever," I say, taking another bite and covering my mouth so if the little bits fall off I don't embarrass myself.

"I know you'd like it. Mom got an entire box for you. Right mom?" Marie looks about ready to start jumping in happiness.

Camila smiles widely. "Of course I did." She turns to me. "I'll give it to you when you leave. Enjoy it but don't eat too much at the same time, love."

I only manage to nod.

"Now I'm gonna go. If you girls need anything, let me know. Hope, would you be staying for dinner with us?"

"No. I have to be home by eight."

"Curfew I see."

"Yes." More like a death threat.

She gives me an understanding smile. "Maybe some other day then. I'd love to prepare a meal for you."

"It's not a big deal. I'll eat anything."

She chuckles and backs up until she's in the hallway. Before closing the door she says, "I bet, but Marie will make sure I prepare a banquet for you."

"Yeah. Hope loves a banquet." Marie pipes in.

My eyes bulge out. "N-No! That's not true. I'd eat anything. I don't need a banquet."

Camila leaves with a laugh.

Marie hasn't told me what happened to her, but I have a feeling something devastating happened to her. Something that changed her completely. It made her want to die. I can't imagine how bad it was. My only assurance is that she's doing better now, though I wish to know her even better so I can help her in any way that I can. I want to be there for her and hug her when she wants to hide in the darkness or cry in the shower. I just want to be her best friend in every sense.

"Marie!" I send her a mean stare—I'm not an expert like Heath but I try regardless. "Why'd you do that?"

She falls back in laughter, her arms curled around her stomach as she watches me between her closed eyes. "I was joking."

"It was a bad joke. I hope your mom doesn't believe you."

"She won't. Anyway, what is your favorite food?"

"Anything Italian. What about you?"

"Chinese and Thai. I also like Indian."

"What about dessert?"

A silly smile takes over her face. "Ice cream. What about you—wait I know. Chocolate!"

"Yeah."

"What's your favorite color?"

I don't think. "Blue."

She smirks. "Like Heath's eyes, huh?"

Heat brushes over my cheeks. "Not really… I mean…"

There's no I mean.

I like Heath's eyes.

It's the most perfect shade of blue to ever exist.

"No need to hide the truth. You're starting to like him. Admit it."

My eyes widen. "W-what? No! I—"

She waves her hands in my face. "Don't lie. Not to me or yourself. Definitely not to yourself. My therapist says the first step to anything is acceptance."

Trying to distract myself I reach for the mug. I've never tried tea before. The only drink that is frequent at my house is alcohol.

Hesitantly, I take a sip. I love it. Eagerly I drink some more.

"I'm trying to understand what I feel. Feelings are complicated."

"Then let's un-complicate them together." Marie picks up her mug and clinks it against mine.

"How?"

"Well, how do you feel when he's close to you?"

"Safe."

Marie nods in agreement. "That's a perfect start. What else do you feel?"

"Comfort."

"Keep going."

"I also get butterflies."

Marie squeals, but then takes a deep breath and composes herself. I half-believe she's trying to imitate her therapist right now and running a feelings-diagnosis on me.

"Butterflies. Love them." She grimaces. " Loved them."

Clearing her throat she meets my gaze. "This question is important. Think carefully. Do you want to spend all your time with him?"

"I… I don't know."

"Hah! Your feelings are new then. Get back to me when you figure that out. We'll discuss it in our next appointment."

I stifle a laugh. "Okay."

By the end, we're both laughing, and it feels good. Really good.

Soon afterward we delve into studying. I give her my Chemistry notes and also explain them to her in great detail. We do many questions and exercises until I'm satisfied she's got the concepts right and deep into her memory.

Time flies by so fast. Before I know it's seven-thirty and I race to leave her room. She offers to drive me, but I decide to walk home.

Just like that, the loneliness I didn't feel with her creeps back inside of me.

I'm reminded of how empty it makes me feel.