Without Merit

The next few minutes are quiet. Even from Moby. I think he can sense that things have been a little off lately. I watch Victoria for a moment, wondering how she’s still here, sitting at this table with my father two nights in a row, knowing what he’s been doing behind her back.

“Did anyone take pizza down to your mother?” my father asks.

I shake my head. “I won’t be doing that anymore. If she wants to eat, she can come up and make her own plate.”

My father narrows his eyes at me, like the dinner table is no place for honesty.

“Why don’t you take her some pizza, Dad?” Honor says with a hint of condescension in her voice. “I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

And this is where Victoria draws the line, I guess. She doesn’t even yell this time. She just drops her pizza on her plate and pushes back her chair. The screech it makes against the floor is deafening. No one says anything until her bedroom door slams shut.

“We almost made it to the end,” Luck says, reaffirming the fact that we can’t even make it through a single meal. That’s when my father drops his pizza onto his plate with the same frustration Victoria did. He stands up and heads to his bedroom, but he hesitates and then comes back to the table and points at us. At Honor and me. He opens his mouth to lecture us, but nothing comes out. Just fumes of frustration. He shakes his head and follows after Victoria.

I look down at Moby to make sure he’s okay, but he’s working a slice of pepperoni into his mouth like nothing matters but pizza. He’s got the right attitude if you ask me.

Luck is the first to break up the awkwardness. “You guys want to go swimming at the hotel tonight?”

We all answer simultaneously.

“No.” —Me.

“No.” —Honor.

“Yeah.” —Sagan.

Sagan glances at Honor and she’s glaring at him. “I mean . . . no?” he says, trying his best to get that frown off her face. I feel bad for him, even though I’m still angry at him. Is she mad because he’s paid attention to me for the last two days? Does she have to be the center of everyone’s attention?

“It’s not a competition, Honor,” I say. “He can be friends with more than one person.”

She laughs and takes a drink of her soda. “Friends?” she says, placing the can back down on the table. “Is that what you call it?”

“Honor,” Sagan says. “We talked about this.”

They did?

Why? What did they talk about?

Honor shakes her head. “Just because you make out with her doesn’t mean you know her like I do.”

I can feel my anger smash against my chest with nowhere to go but out. I want to scream at her but I try to keep my composure in front of Moby.

“What’s ‘make out’?” Moby asks.

“Hey,” Luck says, standing up. “Let’s go to your room, Moby.” Thankfully he grabs Moby’s hand and pulls him out of the kitchen, but not before Moby grabs his plate and takes it with them.

Honor is still glaring at me from across the table.

“Where is all this hostility coming from?” I ask, frustrated. “I assumed you’d be a little more sympathetic.”

“Oh, please,” she says, scooting her chair back. She stands up. “If it was the truth you would have said something when it happened. Why would Utah do something like that to you and not to me?”

My jaw is tight and my teeth are grinding together as I hold back everything I want to say to her right now. “I can’t believe you’re taking Utah’s side right now.”

“You’re calling him out when you admitted to the whole family that you tried to lose your virginity to our uncle?”

“Stop!” Sagan says, standing up. His chair falls back and crashes against the floor. “Both of you! Just stop it!”

Too late for mediation, Sagan.

I grab my glass of water and splash it in Honor’s face. She gasps, wide-eyed and angry. Before I can escape, she’s across the table with a handful of my hair in her fist. I scream and try to pry her hand loose, but it’s useless. I grab her ponytail and yank it. Sagan’s hands are around my waist and he’s trying to pull me away, but I’m halfway across the table now and I refuse to let go until she does. Her other hand grips my T-shirt so I pull at the front of her shirt.

Several of the buttons pop off and Sagan is still trying to break us up when someone yells, “Hey!”

That sounds like Utah’s voice, but I’m not really in a position to turn around and look. I don’t have to, because Utah jumps on the table and tries to climb between us. He’s prying Honor’s hands off me and Sagan is trying to do the same to Honor. “Stop!” Utah yells.

We don’t stop. I’m pretty sure a good chunk of Honor’s hair is now wrapped around my fingers, but I just grab hold of more.

“Cover her mouth!” Utah yells at Sagan. Utah says this just as he clamps his hand over my mouth and nose, smothering me. Sagan is behind Honor now, covering her mouth and nose with his hand.

What the hell are they doing? Trying to kill us?

I can’t breathe!

Honor’s eyes grow wide after several seconds and we’re both trying to struggle out of their grips while still refusing to let go of each other.

I can’t take it another second.

I can’t breathe.

I release Honor’s hair and grip Utah’s hand that’s covering my mouth. Honor does the same, pulling Sagan’s hand away from her mouth. We’re both gasping for breath when they release us.

“What the hell!?” Honor says, shoving Sagan. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Sagan looks at Utah and gives him a thumbs-up, then he puts his hands on his knees and bends over, catching his breath. “Quick thinking,” Sagan says to Utah.

I fall into my chair again, trying to catch my own breath. I pull strands of Honor’s hair from my fingers.

“What’s going on?”

My father is back. He’s standing next to the table, which is now a chaotic mess of pizza parts. Honor’s shirt is ripped and both of us look a wild mess. But he isn’t looking at any of that. He’s addressing Utah, who is wiping pizza off his jeans.

“What are you doing here?” my father asks.

“I’m calling a family meeting,” Utah says.

My father shakes his head. “Now’s not a good time.”

Utah laughs under his breath and says, “If you want me to wait for the perfect time to discuss kissing my little sister, we’ll be waiting for an eternity. We’re having a family meeting. Tonight.” Utah walks past my father and heads toward his bedroom. He slams the door so hard, I jump in my seat.

My father grips the back of one of the chairs and shoves it at the table so hard, I jump again.

“Great,” Honor mutters. She goes to her room and slams her door, too.

It’s just me and Sagan now. He’s standing on the other side of the table, staring at me. I think he’s expecting me to cry or get angry or have some sort of normal reaction to everything that just happened. I scoot my chair toward the table and reach to the only box of pizza that isn’t ruined. It’s ham and pineapple. Figures.

“Next time Honor and I fight on the kitchen table, try to salvage a box of pepperoni, will ya?”

Sagan does that quiet laugh of his and shakes his head. He sits down across from me and pulls the box of ham and pineapple toward him. He pulls out a slice and takes a bite, then with a mouthful he says, “You’re kind of a badass, Merit.”