Faith had been in better spirits lately. Things had gone well at father's place, she hadn't had a fight with her mother in over five days, and she was even sort of looking forward to this dance that Hope was so keen on attending.

She had been experimenting with her new camera, pointing it at different objects and observing them through the lens. The roll of film that her father had put in held twenty-four photos, and she wanted to use them wisely. She didn't know when she'd be able to buy film again.

At first she wandered around her house, squinting through the viewfinder and focusing the lens on whatever she could find. But the light in the house was too dim. She needed to move outdoors. There, she walked around the backyard, bending down towards flowers and standing on tippy-toes to see past the fence. Everything looked mosaic through the camera lens.

She was still trying to work out the aperture and the shutter speed. Her father had gone over it with her only twice, and she feared that she would press the wrong button, or turn the focus the wrong way and mess up the entire shot. For now, she decided to only view, not shoot.

On Tuesday after camp, she came home, made some food, then called Sebastian. The two hadn't spoken since Friday morning and she was beginning to feel the longing for him that she often did when they were apart.

"How are you?" he asked her.
"I'm fine, how are you?"
"Pretty good."
"What's new? What have you been up to?" She leaned against the wall, twisting the cord around her fingers.
"Not much. Just working. Hanging out with the boys. The usual."
"How's the family?"
"Everyone's good here. How was your weekend? And your dad's?"
"It was good," Faith said for what felt like the hundredth time. "Are you still coming up tomorrow night?"
It was quiet for a moment, then he muttered, "Shit."
"Let me guess," Faith said, her heart sinking in her chest. "You can't."
"I'm so sorry. I totally forgot and I told my boss I'd stay late tomorrow night."
"Alright," Faith said, deadpan.
"Don't be mad."
"I'm not."
"I'll come up this weekend."
"Can't," Faith said. "I'm busy."
"Doing what?"
"Going to a thing."
"Okay... When can I see you then?"
"You tell me."
"Listen, I'll call you back later, okay? Don't be mad. I love you."
"Whatever. Goodbye Sebastian."
"Goodbye Faith Marie."
She hung up the phone.

Faith could feel the constraints already beginning on their relationship. She knew it would be difficult maintaining a long-distance relationship, but she didn't think they'd be feeling the effects this soon. It had only been a month! And already they were forgetting to phone each other, cancelling scheduled plans.

She was so used to having Sebastian there twenty-four-seven. He was the one she came home to and told about her day. She told him her problems, how she was feeling. And he was always there to listen and hold her when she needed him.

But that was no longer the case anymore. They were apart. They were drifting farther and farther each day. Yet somehow, Faith was okay. She was still standing. She was surviving. No, she was doing more than surviving. She was thriving.

As crazy as it sounded, Faith was doing okay without him. And that worried her.

She put away her dishes, then packed her bag and headed out to take more photographs. It became therapeutic for her. Something she could do by herself, unaffected by anyone's thoughts or opinions.

She walked through the town, pointing her camera at everything she could see. Her favourite spot was down by the lake, where she remained looking through the viewfinder for what felt like hours, simply taking in the scene that was ahead of her.

She managed to take one photo, and that was of a father and son fishing off the dock. She adjusted her aperture and shutter speed, hoped for the best, and clicked the button. She wouldn't find out if she got the shot or not for a long time.

After that, she decided to head back home and read a new book that she had started. It was as she was passing Gigi's Pizza when she heard a sound. She turned around to find the source of the noise, and that's when she saw it. A little white cat, bright green eyes, tiny brown patches covering its body. The cat was thin, like it hadn't eaten in ages. Faith knelt down and stuck her hand out. The cat meowed again and approached her, rubbing its face and whiskers on her knuckles.

An involuntary smile grew on her face. The cat walked in circles around her, its tail lagging behind. She reached forward and scooped it into her arms. She did a quick check to confirm – he was a boy – then flipped him back over. He jumped out of her arms and started to run away, but then circled back and rubbed against Faith's legs as she stood.

"You're coming with me," she said as she picked him up once more. She knew exactly the place to go.

______

"What's this!?" Hope took a step backwards as she opened up her front door. Faith let the cat leap down from her arms and it scurried into Hope's house.
"Surprise," Faith said. "Are your parents' home?"
"No, they're at St. Andrew's." Hope's eyes followed the cat, then she turned back to Faith.
"Perfect," Faith said, stepping through the threshold.
Hope let her in then closed the door behind them. "What's going on?"
"I found him. He's a stray. I know you like to help strays."
"How do you know he's a stray?"
"No collar. And he's underweight. He needs our help Hope."
"Awe," Hope turned around and watched the cat roam through her house. "I'm sure my mother won't mind. We can feed him, nurse him back to health, and find him a good home."
"Good thinking."
"We'll have to pick out a name for him."
"Oh, I already have," Faith said. "I call him Lucifer."
Hope turned hastily towards Faith. "What?"
Faith laughed. "You can call him Luce if you don't want to say Lucifer."
"Faith," Hope hissed. "That's not funny."
"Oh, it's a joke, lighten up."
Hope stared at her. "You really don't get it, do you?"
"Get what?"
"I get it – you're not religious; you've made that abundantly clear. But you can't make fun of my religion, or say things like that to get a reaction from me. It's not funny. Not funny at all."
"It was a joke, Hope. You need to relax."
"Don't tell me to relax! I have every right to be upset!"
"Over a name?"
"Not just the name. You. The things you do and how you behave."
Faith rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'll take Lucifer and go," she walked towards the cat and picked him up.
"No, leave him," Hope put her arm out to stop Faith. "He'll be safer with me."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that I can actually look after him."
"So can I."
"No, you can't." Hope grabbed the cat from Faith.
"You're overreacting."
The cat made a sound and jumped down from Hope's arms. He scurried down the hall and disappeared.
"See, now you've scared Lucifer off."
"Can you please stop calling him that?"
"Why?" Faith looked at her. "It's his name."
"You're being so immature."
"I'm not the one being immature."
"You are!" Hope said. "And you can't even see it."
"How am I being immature?"
"Well, for starters, you come into my home calling a cat Lucifer. Do you know how disrespectful that is?"
"I said it was a joke."
"And that's exactly my point. You have no regard for other people or their feelings. I thought we agreed not to talk about religion. Which I was fine with, by the way. But I knew deep down that vow wouldn't last," Hope stared at her. "Because we're too different, Faith, you and me. You have no problem accepting my religious beliefs because it doesn't affect you. But how can I just accept your lack of belief?"
"Um, quite easily?"
"It's not that easy, actually."
"Why not?"
"Because you do things like this! And because, like I've told you before, religion is everything to me. And my family. And this town. And seeing you parade around here celebrating the fact that you don't believe in God or have any sort religion infuriates me."
"Why does it infuriate you? How does my life or what I do with my life affect you?"
"Because it just does! Okay? Is that so difficult to understand?"
"A bit, yeah."
Hope took in a deep breath and turned away from Faith.
"You want to know why I don't believe in God? Or the Lord Saviour Jesus Christ Whatever."
Hope looked at her, waiting for an answer.
"Because of what I lost. You really think if there was a God out there that he'd take away an innocent eighteen-year-old girl? A girl who did absolutely nothing wrong and had every reason to live –"
"Faith –"
"No, let me finish. Sure, I used to believe in God. When I was a kid. But then I grew up. And I realized the harsh realities of the world. Religion and God are just a neat little idea packaged in presentable wrapping. It's reassuring and it's nice to believe in. It makes you feel good about yourself. It even has a little bow on top, just to make it appealing to everyone. But here's the thing, Hope – it doesn't appeal to everyone. Because I learned the difference between belief and ignorance. About having hope in something that is beyond you, and putting your blind faith in something that doesn't even exist. It's all just a load of bullshit."
It was silent in the room, the weight of Faith's words hanging between them. Hope didn't know how to respond.
"I'm sorry," she said eventually, walking towards her. She took Faith's hand in her own. "I know what happened to your sister was wrong and unjust. But just because tragedy happens in the world, does not mean that there isn't a God. We all have a destiny, and that is decided before we're even born. There was nothing God could have done for your sister. Sometimes people get sick. Sometimes people die. But that's all just a part of life. Everything happens for a reason, and sometimes we may not know that reason. But that doesn't mean there isn't one."
"Don't even say that," Faith said, pulling her hand away from Hope's. "There is no reason. Shitty things just happen to good people."
"But that's not the fault of God. And you shouldn't lack belief and trust in him simply because you experienced immense tragedy."
Faith was staring at her own hands, not saying a word.
"Faith?"
Faith looked up and met her eyes.
"Are you okay?"
"No," Faith said. "I don't think I'll ever be okay. But," Faith took in a breath. "We're never going to agree on this, are we?"
"There's nothing I can say to convince you otherwise," Hope said. "It's not up to me to make you believe. You have to find that within yourself."
"And what if I don't want to? Believe, that is."
"Then I guess that's your choice."
It was quiet again for a long time.
Finally, Faith spoke, breaking the silence. "I'll change his name."
"Who, the cat?"
Faith nodded. "We can call him Jesus. Or Josiah or something."
Hope laughed. "We can decide on that later."

Faith stared at Hope. She had that meek smile plastered on her face. Faith knew in that moment that they would never agree on this. They probably wouldn't agree on much. But that was beside the point. You didn't have to agree with something to care about them.

Before she knew what she was doing, Faith was leaning forward, closing the space between them, bringing her lips to Hope's.

In that moment, everything froze, time at a standstill. All Faith could feel was this sensation coursing through her entire body. She was electrified. She could feel the proximity of Hope in front of her, their bodies so close, but not touching.

But just as fast as the moment came, it had passed, and Hope was pulling away, looking at Faith as though she'd just been burnt.

"What are you doing?" Hope gaped.
Faith stumbled backwards, her fingers on her lips. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what she was doing.
Hope was still staring at her with that wide-eyed glare. It frightened Faith. It deeply frightened her to her core. Because that very look that Hope was giving her, was fear.
"I think you should go," Hope said, backing away from Faith.
"I'm sorry –"
"I'm not like that!" Hope yelled. "Leave!"

That was the last thing she said before Faith turned around and ran.