Without Merit

And don’t think you’re getting off easy, Mother, simply because I feel sorry for you. I liked you more before I knew you were still sleeping with Dad. At least then I could excuse why you’re still here, living in a dungeon, wasting away your life. I thought it was because of your social phobia, but now I know it’s because you’re playing some kind of sick game, trying to win Dad back. Well guess what, Mom? He’s not taking you back! Why would he? You open your legs to him any time he wants it.

You’re probably more pathetic than he is. At least he’s raising his children. At least he’s working to put food on the table and a roof over our heads. He’s damn shitty at the whole father thing, but he’s a much better parent than you’ve ever been to us. So yeah, consider this my goodbye. I won’t be visiting you in the basement anymore. If you care about any of us, you’ll suck it up, get a job, move out, and get a life!

Who else?

Oh! Let’s not forget the newest addition to Dollar Voss. Luck Finney! He seems great, doesn’t he? Shows up this week, makes up with his sister and then almost fucks his step-niece.

Granted, it was my idea to lose my virginity to him. Not like it would have made a difference to him since he’s had sex over three hundred times! But now that I know he’s making his way through ALL the Voss siblings, I feel even cheaper than I felt after what I’m sure would have been the worst sexual experience in history . . . had he been able to go through with it.

Maybe he couldn’t finish with me because he prefers dick. Utah’s dick, at least.

Oh! Did no one know Utah was gay? Not that I have anything against anyone being gay. Love is love, right? But I just didn’t know that about Utah. But yes, Utah is gay and he’s sleeping with Luck. I know because I walked in on them. I can’t get the image of them out of my head no matter how hard I try. It’s embedded there, just like the image of Sagan when he called me an asshole.

He was right, though. I am an asshole. What kind of person betrays their own twin sister in the worst possible way? Of course, the fact that I pretended to be Honor so I could kiss Sagan wasn’t really a betrayal, considering Honor and Sagan aren’t even a thing. But how was I supposed to know that? Honor doesn’t tell me anything! A sister should know who her own twin sister is dating! But I still somehow get stuck with everyone’s secrets, and then you all beg me to keep them from everyone else!

Kind of like the one I’m keeping for Honor right now. She’s off with some guy tonight, probably naked with him on his death bed.

Can we please address this?

Can we please discuss how disturbing it is that Honor is obsessed with the terminally ill?

Why is this okay?

Why have you not put her in therapy, Dad?

WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND SEEKS OUT LOVE FROM PEOPLE WHO ARE DYING?

Honor, from one sister to another, please get help. You need it. Desperately.

Who am I forgetting? Moby? I won’t even go there. Just someone please save this kid from this family before it’s too late.

Sagan, I really don’t have anything negative to say about you. You’re quite possibly the only sane one living in this house. I guess in a way that’s your flaw. You actually have the option to leave, yet for some reason, you stay with the most screwed-up family in Texas. Your family must really suck. Is that why you’ve never met your own sibling? Because you were smart enough to get as far away as you could?

Well, that was fun. I think I feel better now that all your secrets are no longer my responsibility. In the future, keep your shit to yourself because I don’t care.

I’ll say it again in case none of you are getting it.

I.

Don’t.

Care.

Sincerely,

Merit

I slap the pen to the page.

That felt good. Too good. I feel like a weight has been lifted and it’s now evenly disbursed among every person in this family. Or at least it will be once I make copies for everyone.

If it felt that good just writing it, I can’t imagine how good it will feel delivering it. I tear the pages out and stand up, but I have to grab my dresser to steady myself. I laugh because I think I finally drank enough to make all my feelings go away. Or maybe it was the letter I just wrote. Either way, I think I like tequila. I feel freaking great. I like it so much; I drink the rest of it before I head to my father’s office to make copies.

I don’t bother knocking. I heard Utah’s door slam earlier, so I know he’s not in here with Luck anymore. When I open the door, Luck is messing with his phone. He doesn’t look happy to see me. “What do you want?”

“Not you,” I say, walking to the other side of the room. “I need to use the copier.”

Luck sighs and leans against the back of the sofa bed. I place the first page on the copier and hit the number 7. There are nine people in this house, but Moby can’t read and I’ve got the original. I press the Copy button and then turn to face Luck.

“So,” I say. “Is there anyone you won’t have sex with on this earth besides me?”

“Are you drunk?”

I open the copier and put the second page facedown. I hit the copy button again. “Yes. It’s the only way I can deal with this family, Luck. The family you chose to move in with.” I turn around and look at him again, this time with confusion. “Why would you willingly choose to live here?”

Luck doesn’t answer me. He looks back down at his phone and starts texting again. “Are you almost done?”

I put the final page on the copier. “Yep. Nearly there.” I glance to the other side of the copier and see Luck’s worn notebook with all his conquests in it. I glance back at him and he isn’t looking at me. I flip to the last page and sure enough, he has my name written down. It says, 332.5 M.V., her bed, DNF.

I got DNF’d. A big, fat DID NOT FINISH.

“Do I at least get a participation trophy for this?” Luck sees the notebook in my hands. He jumps off the sofa bed and snatches it out of my hands. He walks back to the bed. I chuck a pen at him. “Here. Don’t forget to write Utah’s initials down. Lucky 333.”

When the copier is finished, I gather all the pages and take the original off the copier.

“Go to bed, already,” he says, agitated.

I grab the stapler. I shake it at him as I walk out of his room. “I liked you better before I met you.”

I close the door and make my way back to my room. I lay all the pages out on the floor but I’m forced to take a moment for my vision to settle before I can put them in the right piles. All the pages are starting to run together. I have almost all of them stapled when someone knocks on my door.

“Go away!” I crawl to the door and lock it before whoever it is can open it.

“Merit.”

It’s Sagan. The sound of his voice makes me wince. There wasn’t enough tequila to dull this feeling, apparently.

“I’m sleeping,” I call out.

“Your light is on.”

“Your light is on!”

He doesn’t respond to that. I’m glad, because I’m not even sure what it meant. A few seconds later I hear the door to his bedroom close.

I squeeze my eyes shut to keep the room from spinning. I lay my head down on the floor. I’m too dizzy to keep sitting up like this. As soon as I close my eyes, I hear a text message come through on my phone. I reach my hand to my bed and search around until I find it.

Honor: What happened?

So much has happened in the last two hours, I don’t even know which part she’s referring to.