Page 25 of The Confidant
Yeah, that was kind of a mess right now. My attempt to be friendly to Addison at the pool party yesterday had certainly backfired with Scarlett. And I had a feeling that until the Valentine’s dance was over with and I didn’t have the pressure of being a good prospective date hanging over my head, things wouldn’t be getting easier any time soon.
I could only hope things would get better once next Saturday had passed.
I sighed as I shouldered my backpack and walked out of my dorm room. Six more days and our dates with other people would be over with and where they belonged...in the past.
* * *
My car—amatte black BMW X5 M—was covered with a few inches of freshly fallen snow when I made it outside, so I started the defroster and brushed off what I could.
The road was basically empty as I drove down the tree-shrouded road toward town. Our school was located a couple of miles from the actual town of Eden Falls, built on property that had once belonged to the Hastings family—who was one of the founding families—over a century ago.
The roads were a little slick, not having been plowed after the snowstorm last night, so I drove carefully down the winding road. A few minutes later, I passed the “Welcome to Eden Falls” sign and all the little mom-and-pop shops came into view.
When I’d first come to school here, it’d been quite a change from the rush and noise of Manhattan—the only home I’d known up until that point. But after a few weeks, I adjusted to the slower pace and actually came to love the small-town life.
Depending on what I ended up doing in the future—if I made a career out of being a writer like I hoped—I wouldn’t mind settling down in a quiet place like this.
I passed the gas station with the soda shop Cambrielle and Ava were obsessed with, then drove past the quirky Mexican and Italian restaurant called The Italian Amigos. Once I made it to the end of the next block of shops, I pulled along the curb and parked.
The black-and-white sign for the coffee shop glittered with the first rays of sunshine when I stepped inside.
The coffee shop was officially called The Brew of Life—a play on the tree of life in the Garden of Eden, since Eden Falls loved playing into the title of “Connecticut’s Own Garden of Eden” and caffeine seemed to be everyone’s favorite life-source these days.
But to all the locals, it was simply referred to as “The Brew.”
I walked onto the light-gray wood floor and warmth spread throughout my chest as I breathed in the smell of freshly brewed coffee. I glanced around at the industrial interior design that Mack’s mom had helped make cozy with vibrant colors, mismatched tables and chairs, and inviting lighting before she passed.
“Hi, Hunter.” The barista with dirty-blonde hair and brown eyes greeted me with a smile when I stepped up to the counter. “What can I get for you today?”
The barista, Kiara, was here every Sunday morning, so we were on a first-name basis now.
I glanced up at the menu written on a large chalkboard behind Kiara out of habit, even though we both already knew what I was going to order.
Yes, I ordered the same thing every time I came in here. Why mess with a good thing?
“I’ll have a large chai latte and the Rise and Shine sandwich,” I said.
“Would you like your latte hot or cold?” Kiara asked, just like she did every time as she typed in my order.
“Hot, please.”
I paid and after Kiara handed me my drink, I found a table in the back corner to set up shop for the day.
As I opened up my email account forThe Confidantand took my first sip of my latte, I couldn’t help but feel grateful that I was able to be here, doing this on a Sunday morning.
Back when I’d been a member of The Fold, I never would have been caught dead working on my column in a coffee shop on a Sunday. Shopping on Sundays—even for something as necessary as food and drink—was strictly forbidden. Writing in my column was also considered breaking the Sabbath because it made me money and working on Sundays was against the rules.
But even if the old version of me would have shaken his head at what I chose to do with my Sunday mornings these days, the current version of me loved the freedom to take things slow and have a relaxed morning doing the work and activities I enjoyed.
When I was first leaving The Fold, I felt like such a rebel not going to Pastor Caldwell’s sermons. It had been thrilling coming to The Brew or going on a hike with Mack, Carter, and Nash instead of sitting in the chapel—or going to Scarlett’s room to watch the tiny screen of her laptop for church.
It hadn’t been all fun and excitement, though. There had definitely been some growing pains as I experimented with new options. Even though I was doing what most people outside of The Fold would consider completely normal, it had been difficult to manage my feelings and anxiety at times because my old thinking patterns and religious conditioning didn’t just disappear overnight.
Like, even though I had such a great time out in nature that first Sunday, when I got back to the school and had time to reflect back on my day, the guilt and fear I’d been conditioned to feel when “breaking the commandments” would kick in and I’d have to fight off a panic attack. Part of me had still worried that by stepping away from the church, I was dooming myself to eternal damnation or putting my life at risk.
Those stories I’d heard growing up about people hiking or climbing on Sundays and ending up in fatal accidents because God was punishing them for their disobedience didn’t just go away all at once.
Even though I logically knew that accidents that happened on Sunday had no extra meaning behind them compared to an accident that took place on a Tuesday, it was sometimes a struggle to separate my old beliefs from reality. And once my thoughts started spiraling, it usually took talking to my brother, Sebastian, or going to the ExFold support group on Reddit to feel safe again.
