Faith was sitting at her desk in her room, going over her notes from the day's schoolwork. It had been difficult at first, trying to get back in the swing of things, focusing on school and trying not to breakdown every moment. But alas, she could finally breathe again. School would be good for her. It was a good distraction. She was finally able to think about something other than Hope.

Her mother was doing well. She was happy and thriving. Other than the week Faith had spent in bed, Claudia never suspected anything was the matter. This was most likely due to the fact that she was too preoccupied in her own life to truly even notice. But Faith was somehow okay with this. She wanted her mother to be happy. And quite frankly, Faith enjoyed going unnoticed. She enjoyed being alone. Being unbothered.

Mike was beginning to look at places to live in the city near their father. He had saved up quite a substantial amount of money from his summer job and was getting eager to move out and have a place of his own. This excited Faith, yet angered her at the same time. She wanted to be happy for her brother, but she envied him greatly. She longed for the day that she could move out on her own, make her own decisions and life choices without someone always monitoring or deciding for her. She just wanted to be done with school, done with Meadow, done with everything.

That first Friday back to school, Mike took Faith out for lunch. My treat, he said. It would be good for her to get out of the house and go somewhere other than school. To catch up with her brother since she felt as though she never saw him anymore.

"So how was the first week?" he asked, taking a sip of his soda.
"It's been good. Not bad actually."
"How are the teachers?"
"Fine. My English teacher is really nice. Her name's Mrs. Appleton."
"Have you made any friends yet?"
"Does it look like I've made friends?"
Mike laughed. "I'm sure you're bound to make some. And what about Hope? At least you have her."
Faith made a face.
"What? You don't like her anymore?"
"We're not really speaking," Faith said.
"Why?"
"Shit just got too complicated."
"I'm not surprised. You've never really been one to keep friends."
"Yeah," was all she said.

She developed a routine. Wake up, go to school, come home, do homework, read, go to bed. It was healthy for her, therapeutic. She didn't even need to speak to anyone. Not friends, not her mother. She enjoyed the solitude, enjoyed the time spent with her own thoughts. It gave her time to truly think and evaluate everything. Her life, what she wanted to do with it. It was all still very confusing and foreign to her – the concept of growing up – but she was starting to come to terms with it. Starting to accept that she would have to do it eventually. Maybe she'd even figure out what she wanted to be, what occupation or career would suit her best. She hoped that this semester at school could potentially provide her with some insights into this. And maybe, just maybe, she could even talk to a teacher. Ask them some questions, figure out what she wanted to do.

Because at the end of the day, that's all the mattered wasn't it? The future. Your life. Not sulking about the past or crying over a girl who had your heart. It was about looking up and staying positive.

Faith nearly laughed at herself. Who was she, thinking this way? She was truly becoming more like Hope than she ever thought possible.