Without Merit(22)

I’m so angry that he’s living here now. I was convinced it would be easy to avoid him, but now he’s living in the room across the hall from me. I’m going to be subjected to their relationship and to him kissing her and loving her.

I know my father doesn’t believe in God, but luckily, atheism isn’t hereditary. I hardly ever pray, but I feel like now is as good of a time as any. I roll onto my back and look up at the ceiling. I clear my throat. “God?”

Not gonna lie. It feels weird talking to the ceiling. Maybe I should kneel like they do in the movies.

I throw the covers off and kneel on the floor against the bed. I lower my head and try it again with my eyes closed.

“Hey, God. I know I don’t pray as much as I probably should. And when I do pray, it’s always something selfish. I apologize for that. But I really need your help. I’m sure you saw what happened with my sister’s boyfriend a few weeks ago. I can’t stop thinking about him. I don’t like the person it’s turning me into. I’ve been having these irrational thoughts, like maybe he was meant for me and not Honor. Maybe you created him as my soul mate, and because Honor and I are identical, his soul got confused and fell in love with her. Because they’re nothing alike. They have nothing in common. She doesn’t even like the best parts of him. But even if they were to break up, there’s no way it would work out between us. I’d never do that to my sister, and as much as I’m attracted to him, I could never love someone that was once with Honor. It’s out of the question. So I’m not coming to You to ask You to show him the error of his ways. I’m coming to You to ask if You would just send me someone else. Someone who will completely take my mind off him. I don’t want to have the thoughts I’ve been having anymore. Or at least I don’t want to be having them about my sister’s boyfriend. I wouldn’t mind having these thoughts about someone else. So . . . yeah. I’m merely asking for an alternative soul mate. Or even just a distraction. I don’t even care if it has to do with another person. Any interest that isn’t Sagan would be great. Whatever you can spare.”

I open my eyes and then crawl back into bed. Praying is so awkward. Maybe I should do it more.

“Oh, yeah. Amen.”





Chapter Five





Merit, wake up.”

I didn’t know it was possible to roll my eyes before opening them, but I accomplish this feat. “What,” I grumble, pulling the covers over my head.

“You need to wake up,” Honor says. She flips on the light to my bedroom. I pull my cell phone out from under my pillow to see what time it is.

“It’s six in the morning,” I mutter, annoyed. “None of us wake up this early.” Not to mention she knows I don’t go to school anymore, so what’s it matter if I’m awake?

“It’s six in the evening, dumb ass. It’s your night to take Mom dinner.” She slams the door.

It’s six in the evening? Which means it’s still today. Shitty today.

Joy.



I spoon mashed potatoes onto a plate next to a piece of blackened chicken. There may not be much about Victoria to like, but her cooking has always been good. I do wonder, though, what it must be like to have to cook extra food every night for your husband’s ex-wife who lives in your basement.

I spin around to grab a roll for the plate, but I bump into Sagan, who has appeared behind me. “Sorry.” I try to move around him before having to inhale his scent, or God forbid, look at his face. I move left, he moves right. We’re still in each other’s way. I move right, he moves left. Are you freaking kidding me?

He laughs at our little dance, but that’s because he can breathe when he’s around me. He only loses his breath around Honor. I finally spin and walk the other direction and go around the bar. Right before I reach the basement door, I glance back in the kitchen. Honor is now standing next to her boyfriend, making her plate. But he’s staring at me with a quizzical look.

He must think I’m such a bitch, especially when something as simple as being in his way happens. I’m not able to laugh it off like he does. I get frustrated and go the other direction.

“Merit?”

I’m not even halfway down the stairs and she can tell it’s me. She’s somehow memorized the footsteps of everyone in the house. I guess when all you do is watch Netflix and play on Facebook, you get pretty good at listening to footsteps.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

She’s sitting on the couch when I make it down to the basement. She closes her laptop and slides it to the floor. “What’s for dinner tonight?”

“Chicken and potatoes again.” I hand her the plate and take a seat next to her on the couch. She looks at the plate and sets it down on the table next to her.

“I’m not really that hungry,” she says. “I’m trying to lose ten pounds.”

“Maybe you should go for a run. The weather is nice.”

She frowns. I think I’m the only one who still tries to encourage her to go outside. But at this point, it’s not really encouragement. It’s more a sarcastic suggestion.

“You haven’t been down to see me since last week.” She reaches up her hand to brush my hair over my shoulder, but she hesitates before touching me. Her hand falls back to her lap. “Have you been sick?”