Hopelessly Hopeful Novels & Stories

We all knew he was hinting at Hope’s upcoming engagement. “What? Me, feel down?” Hope chuckled. “Not a chance! Even if the whole world bullied me, I’d still be like Uncle Ryan—never sad, just laughing it off. I’m all about living life to the foolest! F-O-O-L-E-S-T! Foolest!” “Your brain cells are fried, Hope. It’s the fullest! F-U-L-L-E-S-T!” Love corrected him. “Boring if it’s to the fullest! It should be the foolest! Sometimes, I imagine if everyone in the world was just a little silly. It’d be so much fun on Earth—just laughter, no stress, no depression.”

“You are so weird.” I look toward the door. I can never have hope again. Hope is dangerous.

Just then they heard something dissatisfying. “No hope for Ayomide,” Oreoluwa had said. “What did you just say, Ore?” Emmanuel demanded. “I said no hope for Ayo.” He shrugged. “I heard you the first time,” Emmanuel said with clenched teeth. “I only gave you a chance to change what you said.”

What if… I swear, those two words were more addictive than crack. I clung to them neurotically, imaging everything that could be while completely ignoring how it really was. It’s funny, but I think having too much hope actually made a person even more of a hopeless case. Because that’s what I was: absolutely hopeless.

Not weakness. Hope.

There were two famous deadweights in Kingsgate's high society. One was me, Millie Tanner, the pampered little princess whose only talents were shopping and throwing parties. The other was my childhood friend, Iver Langford, the fragile young heir born with autism and congenital heart failure. However, my older brother was the most feared name in the underworld, and my second brother was the richest man in the country. Iver's older sister was the undefeated queen of the courtroom, and his second sister was a surgeon whose hands could bring back the dead. One day, the four of them were chatting over a game of poker. "Raising one hopeless case takes the same effort as two. Might as well pair

His brain started spinning with the old, addictive thoughts. What if they broke up next week? What if I actually talked to him today? What if I still had a chance to be the one he chooses? What if... Those two words were a poison. He clung to them, imagining a future that didn't exist while ignoring the reality in front of him. He realized then that having too much hope didn't make you an optimist—it made you a victim. And as he watched Natalie disappear around the corner, Cass knew he was the most hopeless case in the entire pack.

Not hope. This isn’t a misunderstanding. Something is very wrong.

“Let you whisper to him? Let him know you’re still fighting? Let him give you hope?” He smiled slowly, and was cruel. “No, darling. Hope is dangerous. And I’ve worked too hard to keep you hopeless.”

After giving her the special medicine, I shook my head regretfully. “I can save her life, but she’ll be paralyzed from now on. Mark’s theory of natural selection doesn’t hold under extreme post-apocalyptic conditions. She’s been exposed to high temperatures for too long. Her internal organs are already ninety percent cooked. Besides, no electrical system can withstand these conditions for long. His refrigerated warehouse is completely useless.” Mr. O'Connor broke down in tears. “My granddaughter, how could you be so foolish, believing that scoundrel Mark? Will risked everything for you, even though you despised him. He developed special medicine for you, and what have you done in return?”