Without Merit(87)

“Where’s Sagan?”

“I kicked him out,” my father says, matter-of-fact.

I bring my hands up to my head. “What?”

“He slept in your bed last night, Merit.”

This is unbelievable. “So you kicked him out? Without even talking to me?” I spin around and look at the guest room again, hoping I’m dreaming. Almost everything is gone. “Do you not have a heart?” I spin back around to face my father. “Do you not know about his family? What he’s been going through?”

My father sighs. “Merit, calm down.” He grabs my wrist and pulls me down the hallway, through the kitchen and to the back door. Sagan is almost to the other side of the yard, carrying a thirty-gallon trash bag over his shoulder. “He’s moving into our old house.”

I watch Sagan as he opens the gate and carries the trash bag to the back porch of our old house. “Oh.”

“I told Sagan he could live in this house as long as he wasn’t involved with either of you girls. He broke that rule.”

“We aren’t involved, Dad. We didn’t even do anything last night. We just fell asleep talking.”

My father raises an eyebrow. “Then why did he agree to move when I told him that was his only option if he wanted to date you?”

I press my lips together and look back out the door just in time to see Sagan disappear inside the house. “He agreed to move?” I ask quietly.

“Yep,” my father says.

Oh. That somehow changes my whole attitude. “Can I go over there?”

“No. You’re grounded.”

I spin around again. “Why?”

“Let’s see. For having a guy in your room. For stealing your mother’s medicine. For painting my fence purple. For . . .”

I hold up my hand. “Okay. That’s fair.”

“For dropping out of school,” he adds.

I scrunch up my nose and take a step back. “Oh. You know about that?”

“Your mother told me she’s been getting phone calls from the school.” My father walks into the kitchen and opens the dishwasher. He points at it, letting me know I’m getting all the chores while I’m grounded. He then turns to make himself a cup of coffee. I walk to the dishwasher and pull out a couple of plates.

“I met with your principal yesterday,” my father says. “He’s willing to work with you on catching up on missed assignments, but you can’t miss another day of school for the rest of the year. I’ll be taking you to school on Monday. And then I’ll pick you up after and we’ll go see Dr. Criss.”

I reach for a pan and open another cabinet. “We’ll go see Dr. Criss?” I say. “Does that mean you’re also going to therapy?”

I’m half-kidding, so when he says, “We’re all going to therapy,” I’m shocked.

I turn and face him. “All of us?”

He nods. “Me, you, Honor, Utah, Victoria.” He sets his coffee cup down. “I think it’s a few years overdue.”

I smile, because I’m relieved. So relieved. I’ve already decided I’d go to therapy, especially after that stupid crumpled-up piece of paper on my bedroom floor and the cheesy conversation it led to last night. But I really did think it was a little unfair that no one else in this family was being required to go. My father is right. This family is long overdue. “What about Mom? Will she be going to therapy?”

His face is sullen. “I’ll try my best with her. I promise.”

“You promise what?” Utah asks. He’s walking through the back door with Honor.

My father stands up straight and clears his throat. “Clear your schedules after school Monday. We’re going to family therapy.”

Honor groans. “That sounds terrible.”

“Is it too late to be emancipated from you?” Utah asks.

My father laughs. “You’re eighteen, you’re already an adult.” He starts to walk out of the kitchen, but stops short and takes a step back. “Merit? What the hell is on your back?” I feel my father’s fingers brush my back and I immediately freeze. Crap. I pulled on jeans and a tank top when I got out of bed, which doesn’t fully cover my skin. The tattoo.

“Um . . .” I hear the screen door slam and look up to see Sagan standing there.

Honor leans around me and looks at the tattoo. “Uh . . . I drew it. It’s only temporary.”

“Yeah,” I quickly agree. “It’s . . . like henna.”

“Honor doesn’t draw that well,” my father says.

I turn around and face him so he’ll stop looking at it. “Dad, of course she does. Sagan’s been teaching her.” I look to Sagan for backup and he’s immediately nodding his head.

“Yeah, Honor wants to be an artist. She’s really good.”

“I’m so good,” Honor says.

My father watches all three of us, but then decides he can’t tell who’s lying. He gives up and walks away.

“Thank you,” I mouth to Honor.

She winks at me and then says, “Feel like cooking breakfast?”



We’re almost finished with the eggs when Victoria walks out of her bedroom.

“What’s going on?” She’s looking at us suspiciously.