Finding Hope Read Online Free

Hope sat on lawn chairs, sipping tall glasses of iced tea.
    Hope had left a note for me in the stump, inviting me to her going-away party. Eternal optimist. As if it was something to celebrate.
    Through the sliver of space I saw a metallic cellophane BON VOYAGE banner taped across the deck railing. And there were balloons.
    This was what my life should have been. A going-away party on the deck, the hockey team over to celebrate. Instead, I was out here, on the other side, fighting my way through waist-high thistles and prickly dandelion weeds.
    I hoped this was what Hope wanted, and that Mom hadn’t bullied her into it. It had always been Mom’s dream for us to get out of Lumsville. Hockey, school—whatever would take us far away from this town.
    I pulled myself away from the fence, kicking at a rock in the alley. A weird pain ached in my gut. I tried to shrug it off as hunger, but I knew that wasn’t what it was. I was going to miss my sister.
    I’d score tonight. She’d left me some money with the note. Maybe she knew I’d want to celebrate on my own. 

Hope
    â€œC all if you need anything ,” Mom said. She brushed out a non-existent wrinkle on my quilt, a hand-me-down with worn edges that smelled like home. “Well, I guess … ” she trailed off. It was time for her to go.
    It had been my choice to come here, I reminded myself. Mom had planted the idea, but I’d been the one to do all the work, insisting during the interview that it had always been my dream to attend Ravenhurst. And when we’d driven through the gates and up the circular driveway, I’d gazed up at the imposing brick building and gotten butterflies.
    But now that I was sitting on a mattress that felt thin and hard, and nothing looked familiar, I got a lump in my throat. Once she left, I was on my own.
    I rubbed the thin fabric of the quilt between my fingers and avoided looking at Mom. I could hear the tears in her voice.
    â€œI guess you’ll go down for dinner soon,” she said. “Meet some of the other students. They’ll all be arriving today.”
    I nodded. My roommate had already set up her side of the room. Posters, a colourful comforter, and stuffed animals made her space look lived in.
    Mom stood up. “I better get going.” She rubbed my shoulder and I thought about asking her to take me back to Lumsville with her. I didn’t want to go to Ravenhurst after all. But spending another year at Lumsville High School wasn’t the right fit either.
    â€œHere.” She pulled a ribbon-bound journal out of her purse and thrust it at me. An orange leather cover embossed with daisies, heavy with unused pages. “It’s a journal, for your poems.”
    I tried to say thank you, but the words got stuck in my throat, tears sprang to my eyes. “Thanks,” I croaked, clutching it against my chest. I’d used scribblers and scrap paper, but I’d never had a dedicated journal before.
    â€œI thought it might help. In case you get homesick. You’ve always been good at writing down how you feel, even if you don’t say anything.”
Shreds of emotion
    Laid bare on my wall,
    Like mental graffiti.
    I wrapped my arms around her neck, wishing I didn’t have to let go.

Eric
    W e used to play against Wolf Creek in an exhibition game once a year. Start of season, we’d go to the reserve on a rented bus, our families following behind in their cars. The rez kids were scrappy and fast.
    My guys, the Lumsville Hornets, were always keyed up for the Wolf Creek game. It set the tone for the rest of the season. The crowd was hyped-up too, our parents’ voices echoing off the ice, the noise from air horns and cow bells blending into one deafening roar.
    The Wolves banged their sticks on the boards before they hit the ice. It intimidated the shit out of me the first time I heard it. But then I scored on my first shift. I looked up by chance and saw