Chapter 5
“Okay, everyone, that’s all for today. Please be sure to get your projects in by the end of this week. You’re dismissed.”
Josie barely lets her teacher get the words out before she runs out of there. Luckily for her, they were dismissed twenty minutes earlier, which for her, (hopefully) meant twenty extra minutes with Hope at lunch.
When she arrives at the entrance of their spot, she does her usual look around before she crouches down under the bleachers and past the trees. She’s slightly surprised to see Hope already there, sketchbook in her lap. As much as she had hoped, she had figured the girl would still be in class, or at least on her way to their spot.
But no, there Hope was— as comfortable and nonchalant as can be.
“Hey.” She waved at the girl as she found her place by her usual tree.
Hope simply gave her a nod and focused on the bird she had begun to sketch. At her response (or lack of), Josie frowned a little, confused as to why the girl hadn’t changed in her form of greeting.
“So…” Josie trails off, trying to get the girl's attention.
“Yeah?” Hope asks quietly, continuing to stare down at her sketch.
“What’s your favorite color?”
The sudden question earns a small laugh from Hope and even manages to pull her attention away from the book in her lap.
“My favorite color? Seriously?” Hope’s laugh is now replaced with a smile, and Josie has to stop herself from telling the girl how gorgeous her smile is.
“Well, yeah. We’re friends now. Friends should know the basic stuff.” She nods, taking her apple out of her bag.
“I didn’t agree to a friendship, Saltzman.” Hope shakes her head.
“You didn’t not agree to it.” Josie points out as she takes a bite from the apple.
As she’s savoring the taste of the fruit, she notices Hope doesn’t have her usual sandwich in hand.
“Hey, wait, where’s your food?” She asks.
“Ate it.” Is all the older girl says.
Josie is surprised as she takes another bite of her apple. If Hope has already eaten her sandwich, she wonders how long the girl has been at their spot. She wants to ask, but the thought is interrupted as Hope speaks up once more.
“Dark blue. That’s my favorite color.”
“Mine is yellow.”
“Looks like we make green.” Hope smirks, and Josie nearly chokes on her apple.
Hope laughs at the girl's reaction and returns to her sketch. Josie was still trying to compose herself, knowing for a fact her face was as red as the apple in her hand.
A few minutes pass, and Josie can’t help how often her gaze shifts to the older girl. She had figured that after the other day, they’d be able to become fast friends, but she realizes it may take a while to get there.
She doesn’t care, though. She’ll make it happen. She’s determined to.
“So, you and Cleo, what’s the story?” She asks suddenly, hoping that wasn’t much of a personal question.
“Wow. We went from my favorite color to a backstory. Seems like we’re moving kinda fast here, Saltzman.” Hope chuckles as she puts her pencil down.
“Oh. Sorry, I just-”
“Saltzman. It’s cool. I don’t mind sharing.” Hope cuts off her stuttering and sends her a small smile.
Josie can’t help but take note of how gentle Hope is being. She hadn’t expected that from the other girl, especially not after previous encounters.
“Cleo Sowande. My best friend since we were seven years old. Her father was a Diplomat who came over to the states on official business. He met my dad on his trip to New Orleans. My father was visiting my Uncle Kol at one of our family-owned bars. My father had recognized him and bought him a couple of rounds; soon after, they exchanged business cards and kept in touch.”
“Her father helped mine in his election the first time around, and when he announced his retirement, he moved his family over here to Mystic Falls. My mom would host get-togethers, and I would always hide out in my room, but Cleo always wanted a sister, so when she heard a little girl around her age was at the party, she made it her mission to find me.” Hope laughs, remembering how many times she had hidden from the other girl, just to be found easily and dragged into endless hours of fun.
“Aw, that’s so adorable.” Josie can’t help the smile that spreads across her face at the story.
“Yeah yeah.” Hope rolls her eyes. “Once we reached 8th grade her family moved to the next town over. Ever since then, Cleo and I have met every month. Usually three weekends out of the month, but then high school happened, and well, my parents…” She trails off.
Josie watches as the expression on Hope’s face turns to a sad one, but before she can offer any sympathetic support, Hope is quick to fix her composure.
“Anyway. Cleo and I haven’t been able to see one another as much as when we were kids, but she still makes it her mission to spend at least a couple of days with me here and there.” She says.
“So, has she left Mystic Falls yet?” Josie asks, finishing her apple and placing it to the side.
Josie knows the more she asks about Cleo, the more Hope will be willing to talk. She knows their time is running out, and she should be using this time to get to know more about Hope specifically, but she figures this is a good topic to start with since it seems to make the other girl happy to talk about.
“She left this morning actually. She was able to stay a week this time since her parents were out of town.” Hope says.
Josie takes note of the way Hope’s eyes turn a dull gray suddenly. She could note almost any change in the older girls' mood.
She might be a little obsessed.
“It seems like our time is almost running out, Saltzman.” The auburnette points out.
“We still have like twenty-five minutes. What’s the rush, Mikaelson? Scared, I'm already making my way through to you and you’re actually enjoying my company?” Josie smirks.
“Yeah, right.” Hope scoffs, but doesn’t fight the small smile on her face. “I don’t believe that’s what I’m implying here.”
“Maybe not. But I’ve got you to say more words than you ever have to anyone at this school before. That’s a win in my book.” Josie winks.
Hope just stares at the younger girl. Josie’s right. She had gotten Hope to open up to her so easily about something as personal as her friendship with Cleo.
As that realization sets in for both of them, Hope feels a sense of uneasiness and rushes to pack up her things.
“Wait,” Josie calls out as Hope gets to her feet. “Where are you going?”
“None of your business.” Hope snaps at her as she makes her way from under the bleachers.
Once the girl has left, Josie has to take a minute to process what the hell just happened.
“Great.” She sighs. She can’t believe that she may have just messed up her chances of getting to really know Hope Mikaelson.
She packs her things and gets up, ready to make her way to her next class and wait out the rest of her lunchtime.
—------
“Hope! Are you home? I’ve brought your painkillers from the pharmacy!”
“Ugh.” Hope groans from under her bedsheets. She had left school midday and was enjoying the blissfulness of her empty home.
She contemplates staying buried in the sheets until the dull ache of her wrist reminds her that she does, in fact, need those pills Freya brought home.
She walks down the grand staircase and is met by her aunt, who immediately pulls her in for a bone-crushing hug.
“Freya…” She groans.
“Sorry.” Freya steps away sheepishly. “I always forget. Here.” She hands Hope the small pharmacy bag, and they make their way to the kitchen. “How was school?”
“Fine.” Hope mumbles as she gets a glass of water and immediately downs two pills.
“Right. So, care to explain why you’ve been home since twelve-thirty when you finish at three?”
Busted.
“I was just having an off day. Needed a mental health break.” She says, finally.
“Hope…” Freya sighs. “What’s going on? I thought things were better. Manageable.”
“Things are fine.” She rolls her eyes. She didn’t understand why Freya was always so pushy when it came to these things. She knew the older woman cared for her, especially since she became Hope’s legal guardian, but she hated her hovering.
Before Freya can begin to lecture her, the front doors swing open, and two pairs of heels can be heard walking in their direction.
“There’s my darling niece!” Her aunt Rebekah smiles as she walks over to the blue-eyed girl. “How’s that wrist of yours?”
“Better.” Hope half smiles.
“Good. But don’t think because it’s healing up, you can go around punching people again.” Her other aunt, Keelin, remarks.
Before her parents’ accident, Freya and Keelin had only been married a year. They had always wanted children of their own, and since Freya had practically raised Hope along with Klaus and Hayley, she and Keelin were appointed Hope’s legal guardians should anything happen to her parents.
When things did happen, the pair had packed up their house in Boston and returned to Mystic Falls.
“Hello, dear.” Keelin walks up and greets Freya with a kiss. “How were things at the office today?”
“By the looks of her hair, I’d say some wine is in order.” Rebekah laughs at Freya’s glare.
“They were as they usually are, with people questioning my authority.” She laughs with an eye roll.
Freya taking over her brother’s position in office wasn’t the easiest adjustment. Considering Freya was a queer woman, many had their own issue’s against her becoming the states Governor, but Klaus had left the position to her for a reason. He could have chosen Kol or even Elijah, as far as he was across the world, but he didn’t. He chose Freya specifically, should anything happen to him, and she took pride in her brother's trust.
Klaus didn’t often trust others, something his daughter would soon take after, but he was a smart man who knew when to acknowledge a strong leader, and his sister Freya was just that.
Still, two years in office had earned Freya some respect, but she still had those who wanted her out. Unfortunately for them, the Governor’s role in this state was to be passed down generationally, meaning one thing: Hope was to take over one day.
“That just means they’re scared of all the great changes you’ve been making.” Rebekah winks. “Let’s get some dinner ready, shall we, ladies?” She offers.
—-------
Dinner with her aunts was well spent, considering all the pressure from her wrist injury and her class skipping was taken off of Hope. Once they popped open another bottle of wine, she snuck upstairs and locked herself away in her art studio. She knew Freya wouldn’t barge in here. She knew the older woman allowed her to keep this place a sacred one and would save her lecturing for when Hope returned to her room.
Hope was currently working on a painting of New Orleans when thoughts of a certain brunette began to cloud her mind, causing her to accidentally snap her brush.
“Great.” She groaned, moving to sit down on her stool. She didn’t understand why Josie kept invading her mind. Maybe it was because she had promised Cleo she would try, and as soon as she did, she ran away.
It wasn’t her fault. Hope hated how easily she let Josie in, even if it was just a little bit. She felt slightly exposed, and she hated how Josie was able to read her.
She didn’t understand what was happening. With so few interactions between the two, Josie was already beginning to invade the blue-eyed girl's thoughts often.
“This is stupid.” Hope huffs. She feels her motivation for the painting slip away and decides to finish it tomorrow after school.
When she makes her way to her room, she immediately regrets leaving her safe space as she’s met with the serious face of her aunt Freya.
“Do we really have to do this?” She groans as she goes to sit next to the older woman on the bed.
“It was either this or taking away your art privileges.” Freya jokes, which thankfully causes a small smile to grace Hope’s face.
“I know school sucks, but you can’t keep walking out midway through the day. What happened this time? You were doing so well.” Freya asks worriedly.
It was a well-known fact that Hope would often skip some of her classes. She was lucky that the school had been so lenient with her, especially because of Freya’s extra help in raising their funds, but she knew her aunt couldn’t keep buying her out of trouble.
She had been on a good streak. She hadn’t missed school since before her wrist injury.
Since before she helped Josie Saltzman.
“I’ve just been having a rough couple of weeks. Mentally. And no, you don’t have to call Doctor Saltzman before you ask.” She gives her aunt a pointed look. “It’s just been a tiny relapse. I swear.”
Not a single soul knew this, not even Cleo, but Dr. Saltzman, the twins’ father, was actually Hope’s therapist.
When he got an email from Klaus himself about the opportunity to open his own practice in Mystic Falls, he couldn't pass it up. So, just a year and a half before the death of Klaus and Hayley, he packed his family up and moved there.
A month after their deaths, Freya had settled in and picked up the pieces in the Governor's department, but she couldn’t quite do that with her niece. She knew Alaric Saltzman was one of the best, considering he was sought out by her brother himself. She knew he would be able to connect and help with Hope.
He reached out first, after finding out the news along with the town. Freya was hesitant, but she knew her niece needed it. Once they had him sign the NDA, and some persistent convincing to Hope herself, they were able to begin their sessions.
And as reluctant as she was to admit it, Hope knew he had done his job flawlessly. She opened up to him more than anyone ever. More than Cleo and certainly more than Freya.
Years later, they had made so much progress that Hope’s sessions were reduced to three times per month instead of her usual six. So Hope really doesn’t want to mess that up, even if she won’t show it.
“Okay. I believe you, but honey, you know I’m here. I know you don’t like the hovering and the affection, but-”
“Freya,” She cuts her aunt off, knowing she’s going to blame this all on herself and the last thing Hope needs right now is for her aunt to think she’s doing a horrible job with her. “You’re doing great. I promise you. It’s just regular teenage stuff.” She laughs. “I’ll go back tomorrow and continue my streak. Don’t worry.”
And she means it. She’ll go back to school tomorrow.
She’ll go back to Josie tomorrow and keep trying, because Cleo was right.
She was so lonely. And she has to secretly admit that talking to the Saltzman girl that afternoon felt so nice.
And with that admission, she knows what she must do.
—-----