"Exactly," Honor says in agreement. "Not all twins have things in common beyond their appearance."
"I think you two have more in common than you think," Sagan says from the backseat. Honor glances over her shoulder and glares at him. I'd like to turn around and glare at him, too, but I actually feel things when I look at him, unlike Honor. I don't even know if Honor is attracted to him. She doesn't look at him like I would look at him if he were my boyfriend. And if he were my boyfriend, I'd be sitting in the backseat with him and not in the front seat where Honor is sitting.
I feel bad for him. He's got so much more invested in this relationship than she does. I could tell that simply by the way he kissed me when he thought he was kissing her. He's moved in and committed and she's just waiting around until a less healthy guy comes along.
Luck turns around and faces Honor's boyfriend. "How do you fit into this family?"
"He fits in with me," Honor says from the front seat, answering Luck's question that was actually posed to Sagan.
If he were my boyfriend, I'd let him answer his own questions.
"How did you and Honor meet?" Luck asks him.
I keep staring out the window, but I listen closely. I've never asked either of them this question directly, so I've only heard bits and pieces from eavesdropping.
"I had an allergic reaction to something I ate," Sagan says. "Ended up in the hospital and that's where I met Honor."
Luck faces forward. "Were you in the hospital, too?" he asks Honor.
Honor just shakes her head, but she doesn't elaborate on why she was in the hospital. I have half a mind to tell Luck that Honor was there saying goodbye to yet another boyfriend when she unknowingly set her sights on Sagan, incorrectly assuming he was about to meet his demise.
"Honor was visiting a friend," Sagan says, now answering for Honor.
They can't answer their own freaking questions?
No one speaks for a few minutes, even though I have a million questions for Luck and a million more for Sagan. When we pull into the long driveway of the hotel, Utah finally throws a question over his shoulder.
"Why does your sister hate you so much?"
"Half sister," Luck clarifies. "She's still mad at me for something I did over five years ago."
"What'd you do?" Honor asks, unbuckling her seat belt.
"I killed our father."
My hand pauses on my seat belt. I look up and Luck unbuckles his seat belt and slides open the minivan door. He gets out, but the rest of us are paralyzed by his last comment. Once he's outside the van, he straightens out his kilt and then looks back inside at all of us.
"Oh, come on. I'm kidding."
Honor exhales. "That's not funny," she says, throwing open her door.
When we get inside, Honor walks up to the front desk and rings the bell. A few seconds later, one of Honor's friends from school, Angela Capicci, appears from the back office.
I've never liked Angela. She was a year ahead of us in school, but she and Honor have been casual friends since we were kids. Being as though most of our friends aren't allowed over at our house due to the rumors (founded or not) about our family, the friendships Honor and I form with other people are almost always casual. I keep more to myself than Honor does. I'm not as good at hiding my distaste, and I've always distasted Angela. She's the type of girl who allows the attention from guys to value her worth. And from the way she's eyeing Luck right now, she must be in need of a little valuing. "Hey," she says to him with a flirty grin. "You're new."
Luck nods and returns her flirtatious smile. "Fresh off the boat."
She raises an eyebrow, unsure of how to respond to his comment. She looks back at Honor. "My shift ends at eleven. If you guys are still here, I'll join you."
"We have to be home by ten," Honor says. She holds up the key card. "Thanks for this."
Angela nods, bringing her gaze back to Luck. "Anytime," she says, her voice dripping with invitation. Her eyes remain glued to Luck as we make our way toward the bathrooms to change. Honor and I walk into the girls and she immediately pulls her shirt off and begins changing without walking into one of the stalls. I'm a bit more modest than she is, and the idea of someone walking into the bathroom while I'm squeezing into my bathing suit is enough to force me into the stall to change. I have my jeans and T-shirt off when Honor says the inevitable.
"So who was Luck referring to?"
I pause for a moment, then begin pulling on my swimsuit. "What are you talking about?"
"In the van," she says, clarifying what I already know. "He said you told him you had a crush on a guy. Do I know him?"
I close my eyes and try to imagine the hell that would break loose if I admitted to her that the guy I have a crush on is her boyfriend. It would be the end of what little relationship we have left as sisters. I open the door to the stall, pulling my T-shirt over my head. "He was lying. There's no one. I hardly even leave the house; how would I meet someone?"
Honor looks a little disappointed in my answer. She also looks . . . stunning.
"Is that a new bathing suit?" I ask her. She's in a red bikini with black trim. It covers her as well as a bikini can cover her, but the color and the cut are perfect. I look down at my oversized T-shirt that's covering up my ill-fitted, plain black one-piece, and I frown.
"I've had it a few months," she says, slipping her hands into the top to push her cleavage together. "You just never come swimming with us so you haven't seen it."
"You know I don't like swimming," I mutter.
Honor folds her jeans and sets them on the sink counter. Our eyes meet in the mirror. "Is that the reason?"
Although it would appear otherwise, the question is rhetorical. Honor knows the reason I don't swim with them has nothing to do with how I feel about the water. I don't come because of my strained relationship with her and Utah. The relationship that's been strained for five years now.
She walks out of the bathroom and I give it a moment before I follow her. The last thing I need to witness is her boyfriend's expression when he looks at her in that bathing suit.
I notice I sometimes refer to him in my head as "her boyfriend" instead of Sagan. I wonder if I'll ever stop referring to him as her boyfriend and not by his name. I just really like the name Sagan. It's smart and sexy and I don't want it to fit him, but it does. So well. Which is why I just want to refer to him as his title. Honor's boyfriend. It's less appealing.
Wishful thinking.
I take off my T-shirt as I look in the mirror. I stare at my one-piece and wonder why everything looks better on Honor, even though we're identical. She looks prettier in dresses, better in jeans, taller in heels, sexier in swimsuits. We have the same body, same face, same hair, same external everything, but she pulls off her look with more maturity and sophistication than I ever could.
Maybe it's because she's more experienced than I am. She's got three years on me when it comes to losing her virginity. That could be why she walks with an air of confidence that eludes me. The only guy I've ever made out with is Drew Waldrup and he didn't even get to third base. That whole debacle didn't end with me gaining more confidence. It ended with me being mortified.
At least I got a trophy out of it.
I know I'm being ridiculous. Losing your virginity doesn't make you more of a woman than a virgin. It just means your hymen is broken. Big whoop.
I pull the T-shirt back over my head. I'm not about to swim in front of Honor's boyfriend like this with Honor looking like she does.
The four of them are in the water when I walk into the pool room. I keep my head down, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone as I make my way over. I'm not even sure I want to swim yet, so I sit down on the ledge at the shallow end and let my legs dangle in the water. I watch the four of them swim for a good half hour, ignoring Luck's pleas for me to join them. When I refuse for the third time, he finally swims over to me. He grins and presses his back into the wall, watching as Utah and Sagan race from one end
of the pool to the other. Honor is now sitting on the edge of the deep end, waiting to declare a winner.
"You two are identical, right?" Luck says, spinning around in the water so that he's facing me.
"On the outside."
He reaches to me and tugs on the hem of my T-shirt. "Then why are you hiding your bathing suit with this T-shirt?"
"I feel more comfortable covered up."
"Why?"
I roll my eyes. "You never stop with the questions."
He waves toward Honor. "If people can see her, they can see you. It's the same thing."
"We're two different people. She wears a bikini. I don't."
"Is it a religious thing?"
"No." I've known him half a day and he's already ranking up there with Utah and Honor on the irritation scale.
He leans in and brings his voice to a whisper. "Is it because of Sagan? Is he why you feel uncomfortable?"
"I never said I was uncomfortable. I just said I'm more comfortable in a T-shirt."
He tilts his head. "Merit. There is a vast difference between you and your sister's confidence levels. I'm trying to figure out the root of that."
"There's no difference. We're just . . . she's more outgoing."
He pulls himself up out of the water, plopping down next to me on the ledge. Utah also gets out, but only because his phone is ringing. He takes the call and walks out of the pool room.
Honor and Sagan are still at the deep end, but he is now helping Honor back float. His hands are under the water, palms pressed against her back. He's laughing as he talks her through the motions. The jealousy scorches my throat as I attempt to swallow it down.
"You make it too obvious," Luck says.
"What?"
He nudges his head toward them. "The way you look at him. You need to stop."
I'm embarrassed that he noticed. I don't acknowledge the truth in his comment, though. Instead, I turn our conversation around on him. "Why does Victoria hate you?"
For the first time, sadness registers in his expression. Or maybe it's remorse. He kicks his right leg up and slings water several feet.
"Our father wasn't that involved in either of our lives and my mother was having trouble controlling me. She thought Victoria might be able to help, so I went to live with her when I was almost fifteen. I wasn't even there for a week before I stole all her jewelry and pawned it."
I wait for him to explain the rest of the story, but he adds nothing else. "That's it? You took some jewelry when you were younger so she kicked you out and has refused to speak to you for five years?"
He leans to the right and then to the left and drags out the word when he says, "Weeeell, it was more than just a little jewelry. Apparently, what I took had been passed down for generations on her mother's side and it meant a lot to her. When she confronted me about it, I was insensitive. I was a punk kid who was supporting a weed habit. We got into a huge fight and I left. Never went back."
"You haven't spoken to her since that happened?"
"No. We were never that close anyway."
"Why did she forgive you tonight?"
"I told her my mother died and that I have nowhere else to go." He pauses. "And I was able to track down one of the rings. I gave it to her and apologized. And it was sincere, because I really do feel bad for what I did. I think an apology is all she's really wanted this whole time."
Funny how Victoria needs apologies from people, but she's never once apologized to any of us for tearing our family apart. "So now what?"
"I guess now I get to know my nieces and nephews."
"Don't call us that. It's so weird."
"Why is it weird?"
I shrug. "I don't know. I just don't think I could ever look at you like an uncle."
"Are you attracted to me?"
I scoff, and maybe even cringe a little. Luck is good-looking, and I would be lying if I said my head wasn't heading in that direction earlier today, before I found out he was Victoria's half brother. But now that I'm aware, there's not an inkling of attraction there. I can't even entertain it long enough to kid around with him. "Don't flatter yourself."
He laughs. "Easier said than done."
I glance over at Honor and her boyfriend again. They're both floating on their backs in the water, holding hands. It makes me wonder if there's a difference between Honor and me when it comes to simple things like holding hands. Would I hold Sagan's hand the same way? Do Honor and I kiss the same way? Would he even be able to differentiate between the two of us? Did he think the kiss with me at the fountain was different than all the other times he's kissed her? Does he ever get us confused?
"Can you tell us apart?" I ask Luck.
He shakes his head. "Not really. But you're both so different, it probably won't take me long to be able to tell who is who."
"How are we different? You've only known us a few hours."
"I can just tell. You both give off different vibes. I don't know, it's hard to explain. You just seem . . . more serious than her."
"You mean she seems more fun than me."
He looks at me pointedly. "Not at all what I said, Merit."
"I know, but that's the consensus. I'm the quiet, angry twin. She's the outgoing, fun one."
"I don't know either of you well enough to make that determination yet."
"Well, it won't take you long to figure it out. And then Honor will be your favorite and you'll hang out with her and Sagan and Utah and the four of you will become best friends."
He nudges me with his shoulder. "Stop that. It's unattractive."
I laugh. "Good. You aren't supposed to be attracted to your niece."
"You keep that self-deprecating attitude up, you'll have nothing to worry about." He looks over at Honor. "You guys have odd names. What's up with that?"
"Says the guy named Luck," I reply. "What was your mother thinking?" As soon as I say it, I regret it. He's probably still grieving her recent death and here I am bringing her up. "Sorry," I mutter. "That was insensitive."
"No worries. She was a terrible person. I haven't seen her in years."
"I thought you lived with her. And that's why you came here, because she died."
He raises a brow. "No, I told you that's what I told Victoria. But I haven't lived anywhere since Victoria kicked me out. Hopped on a bus to Canada to stay with a friend of mine. A few months and a fake ID later, I got a job on a cruise ship. Been doing that for the last five years."
"You've been working on cruise ships?"
He nods. "I've been to thirty-six different countries so far."
"That explains the sporadic accent."
"Maybe so. I liked reinventing myself on every cruise. The work and routine were monotonous, so I would pretend to be someone different on every sail. I have about fourteen different accents nailed. It went on for so long, I get confused now when I try to talk normal."
I stare at him for a moment, watching him watch the water. "You're . . . interesting."
He straightens his back and slaps his hands on his knees. "That's one way to put it." He hops out of the pool and stands up. "I'll be back in a little while." He grabs a towel, then walks out of the pool room with no further explanation. I watch until the door closes behind him. When I turn around, Sagan is the only one in the pool and he's swimming toward me. I try to find something else to look at, but I just make myself feel more awkward. I force myself to make eye contact with him and try to ignore the sudden chaotic hammering of my pulse.
"Why aren't you getting in?" he asks.
"I was talking to Luck." I feel exposed not being in the water. I jump into the pool and allow myself to sink to the bottom before coming back up to face him. When I finally do break the surface, I push my hair back and open my eyes. Honor is walking out of the pool room.
"Where's she going?" I ask, turning to him.
"She has to pee." He moves to the shallowest part of the pool and sits. It's only a few feet deep, so his shoulders are still above water.
I sit next to him so I don't have to look at him. My chin barely breaks the surface. The room is a stark, silent contrast to what it was just moments ago. The quietness is only making my pulse worse, so I force myself to break up the silence. "What's your story?"
He spins in the water so that he's facing me. There are drops of water on his lips, but they roll off when he smiles. "Can you be more specific?"
I swallow hard. "Why did you move in with us?"
"Does it bother you that I live with you?"
I shrug. "Honor is only seventeen. It's a little soon for her boyfriend to move in."
"I'm not her boyfriend."
He says that like he's okay with the fact that she's keeping her options open. "You aren't dead enough for her to want to make it official?"
He doesn't laugh. I knew he wouldn't. It was a low blow. He moves back to the wall and I'm thankful. Conversations with him are much easier when he's not in my line of sight.
I still can't take the quiet and find myself wishing Utah and Honor would return. I try to bring up a subject that has less of a chance of reminding me that he makes out with Honor on a daily basis. "Why were you named Sagan? Are your parents fans of the astronomer?"
He looks at me with slightly widened eyes. "I'm impressed you know who Carl Sagan is. And no, I wasn't named after the astronomer, although I wouldn't have minded it much. Sagan was my mother's maiden name."
I lift my arms in front of me and push the water away from me in waves. "I don't know a whole lot about Carl Sagan, but my father used to keep one of his books on our coffee table. Cosmos. I would flip through it sometimes as a kid."
"I've read all his books. I think he's fascinating, but I could just be partial because of the name." He disappears beneath the water and then comes back up, smoothing his hair back. "What's your middle name, Merit?"
"I don't have one. Our parents were planning on having one daughter and naming her Honor Merit Voss. But there were two of us, so they just gave us each a first name and didn't even bother with middle names."
Sagan stares at me with a tilt of his head, his expression full of curiosity.
"What is it?"
He smiles a little and then says, "You have a speck of brown in your right eye. Honor doesn't have one."
I'm surprised he noticed. Very few people notice. In fact, I'm not sure anyone has ever pointed that difference out before. He's very observant. Which makes me question the drawing I found in his notebook and what motivated him to draw Honor and me stabbing each other in the back. I dip myself underwater again to ward off chills. When I come back up, I wrap my arms around myself and look at him. I can't think of anything to say, though. Or maybe I have way too much to say and I don't know where to start.
Without Merit Page 9
