Without Merit by Colleen Hoover

Without Merit by Colleen Hoover

Author:Colleen Hoover [Hoover, Colleen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atria Books
Published: 2017-10-03T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

I listen for a car to start, but it never does. Sagan left, but he didn’t leave in a vehicle, which means he’s either walking or just lingering outside until he cools off. I want to run after him and beg him to forgive me, but I’m not sure I want his forgiveness right now. I’m not sure I deserve it.

I’m hugging my knees, wondering how I’ve been so blind. I just assumed he was in love with Honor. They do so much together. They talk like they’re a couple. And almost every time I’ve referred to him as her boyfriend, no one has corrected me. It’s as if they wanted me to believe that.

Or maybe it was just Honor who wanted me to believe that.

I use the blanket on the back of the couch to wipe away my tears. Jesus is staring down at me, judging me. I roll my eyes. “Oh, shut up,” I say to Him. “Aren’t you up there so people like me can be forgiven for doing terrible things like this?”

I fall back on the couch and feel like I want to scream. I grab a pillow and cover my face and do just that. I’m frustrated, embarrassed, angry, disappointed. It’s a far fall from what I was feeling while Sagan was kissing me just a few moments ago. It’s like I plunged from the warmth of the tropics straight into the ice-cold waters of Antarctica.

I don’t want to feel anything anymore. These past two days have supplied me enough emotional turmoil for a lifetime. I’m done. Done, done, done.

“Done, done, done,” I reaffirm as I roll off the couch. I walk to the kitchen and grab a red Solo cup. I open the cabinet above the refrigerator and pull out a bottle of liquor. I don’t even know what it is. I’ve never had alcohol before, but what better time to try it than in the same week I almost lose my virginity and piss off the one person I actually feel something for in this house?

I don’t know how much it takes to get a person drunk, but I fill my glass halfway to the top. Or maybe it’s halfway to the bottom. Am I an optimist or a pessimist? I glance down into the cup.

Pessimist.

I down as much as I can before I feel like I’m gagging on a fireball. I sputter and cough and even spit a little bit of it into the sink.

“This is disgusting!” I wipe my mouth with a paper towel. I can feel the burn as it slides down my chest. I can also still feel the frustration, the anger, the sadness.

I somehow manage to get down the rest of what’s in the cup. I take the bottle and the cup with me as I exit the kitchen. I don’t want to be in here when Sagan gets back from his walk. I open the door to my bedroom, but it’s lonely. Empty. Depressing. It reminds me of me.



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