Without Merit

I like that he’s still playful. We just experienced one of the most awkward things two people can possibly experience, and from the looks of it, nothing changed between us because of it.

He opens the door with impeccably terrible timing. Sagan is walking by, but he pauses as soon as Luck opens the door.

It’s just a two-second glance, but I feel more in this visual exchange with Sagan than I did during the entire past fifteen minutes with Luck. Sagan’s eyes are locked on mine. His eyes move to Luck. His eyes are back on mine. Luck quickly steps out of my bedroom and closes the door, but he’s not fast enough to save me from the absolute most horrific part of this entire day.

I pull the covers over my head and try to wish away the last ten seconds. I didn’t want anyone to find out about what just happened between me and Luck, but Sagan is the absolute last person I would have wanted to find out about it.

I can feel the tears of embarrassment begin to form as I roll over.

I’m drowning in regret.

“Coming down for air,” I whisper.



It’s been several hours since I almost lost my virginity. I’m still the same and I have a feeling I’d still feel the same if my hymen were no longer intact. I wouldn’t feel sexier, I wouldn’t feel more worldly, I wouldn’t be miraculously confident. If anything, I’m a bit . . . disappointed. Why do people risk so much for sex?

So far, all it’s caused me is mortification. I’m so embarrassed to face Sagan, I haven’t even left my room since he walked past it. I can hope he didn’t assume the worst, but Luck walked out of my room without a shirt. Sagan saw me in bed, the blanket covering me just enough to make it obvious I wasn’t wearing clothes.

I’m not embarrassed that he might have caught me having sex with someone. It shouldn’t matter to Sagan if I’m seeing anyone else because Sagan isn’t my boyfriend. He’s dating my sister.

I’m embarrassed because it was Luck. We share a relative. It’s disturbing. And now Sagan probably thinks the worst of me.

Luck came to my room during dinner and asked if I wanted him to bring me something to eat. He thought I was too mortified to come out of my room because of him, but it has nothing to do with Luck. In all honesty, I don’t even regret what almost happened. I only regret that Sagan knows about it.

As embarrassed as I am, though, I doubt my feelings even come close to what my father must be feeling. He knows I know that he’s still sleeping with Mom. And I’m sure he’s terrified I’m going to tell Victoria. Or anyone else in the family for that matter. He’s so mortified, he didn’t even come to my room to talk to me about it.

All I’ve heard from him today was in a stupid text. “I’m sorry you saw that. Please let me talk to you about it before you jump to any conclusions.” In other words, he’d appreciate the opportunity to swear me to secrecy before anyone else finds out what’s really going on around here.

So many secrets in this house. And yet, the one secret I should have told years ago is the one I’ve kept the quietest.

Speaking of quiet. I haven’t heard anyone moving around in the house for a while, which means everyone is probably in bed now. Not only am I starving, but I would put money on the fact that no one has fed Wolfgang today. I go to the kitchen and open a frozen dinner. After I put it in the microwave, I grab a pitcher from beneath the sink to fill it with dog food.

I’m rinsing it out when my father finally gets the balls to confront me. I heard the door to their bedroom open right after I closed the microwave. I heard him walk into the kitchen when I bent down to grab the pitcher. I felt him hesitate at the counter as I was rinsing out the pitcher.

And now he’s standing in the way of me and the back door.

“I have to feed Wolfgang.” I say it in such a way that should indicate I don’t want to do anything other than feed Wolfgang. Especially have a conversation with him about his infidelity.

“Merit,” he says, looking at me pleadingly. “We need to talk about this.”

I walk around him to the bag of dog food. “Do we?” I ask as I scoop some into the pitcher. I turn around and face him. “Do you really want to have a conversation with me about it, Dad? Are you finally going to explain why you started cheating on Mom when she needed you the most? Are you finally going to explain why you chose Victoria over the rest of this family? Are you finally going to explain why you were in the basement having sex with Mom today while everyone thought you were at work?”

He takes a quick step toward me and says, “Shh. Please.” He looks panicked, like Victoria might overhear this conversation. It makes me laugh. If he doesn’t like the thought of getting caught, why does he do things he doesn’t want people to find out?

I nod. “Oh, I see. You don’t want to discuss why you’re a pathetic husband. You just want me to promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“Merit, that’s not fair.”

Fair? He’s going to talk to me about fair? I’ve had very little respect for him these past few years, but today has completely diminished what little was left.

“Believe me, Dad. I won’t tell anyone. The last thing this family needs is another reason to hate you.”

The timer on the microwave goes off. When my dad looks in that direction, I use the break in eye contact to walk out the back door. Thankfully, he doesn’t follow me. I walk across the yard to Wolfgang’s doghouse. He’s just lying there, looking up at me. He’s not even excited to eat. Do dogs suffer from depression? I wonder if human Xanax would work on him. If so, I should feed him some of my mother’s.

I sit down next to his doghouse and Wolfgang crawls forward a little and lays his head in my lap. He licks my hand and it’s honestly the sweetest thing anyone’s done for me all day. At least he appreciates me.

“You aren’t so bad, you know?” I scratch between his ears and his tail begins to wag a little. Well, wag might be a bit of a stretch. It twitches, almost in a convulsive way, like it’s been so long since he’s been happy that he forgot how his tail works.

“Let me get you some water.” I grab his empty water bowl and walk to the far side of the house and turn on the water faucet. I glance to the left, at Sagan’s bedroom window. There’s a light on, which means he’s probably up drawing. I wonder what he’s drawing. Probably a morbid picture of me losing my virginity.

The water bowl overfills and the water spills over onto my shoe. “Shit.” I step back and pour some of the water out of the bowl, then drop the hose.

“Merit?”

I spin around, but no one is behind me.

“Over here.”

It’s Sagan’s voice. It’s coming from his window. His curtains are pulled back and his arms are folded on the inside of the windowsill. The only thing separating us is the window screen and a few feet.