× Mercury

"I don't know what to do," was probably something I've never said in my entire life. I was always one step ahead of everything; my whole day planned out from when my feet first touch the floor until my head rests on my pillow for the night. The kitty calendar hanging on my wall was filled up with soccer practice times and the days I had games, when I had appointments, and which test I had to study for. It was just who I was.

So maybe that was why my friends all looked up at me confused when I spoke my mind. It had been the one nagging thought that never seemed to go away, always looming in the darkest corner of my head.

Macey's big, vibrant blue eyes found mine. She was sitting on my bed in front of me, her long, tan legs crossed as she leaned forward on her elbows. "About your English assignment? Just do what I do and bullshit everything."

"I don't think that's what she means," Jamie offered from the floor. My smallest friend put her textbook down on the ground and leaned against the wall. "You're talking about London, right?"

"I've been to London before," Emily said from the computer chair. She was tracing the tattoos on her arm with a pencil as she blew a bubble with her gum. "It's not so fantastic."

Grabbing my soda from my nightstand, I took a sip. "The school seems pretty good. There was a lot of positive feedback. And the campus is pretty. But California is my home and I can't just get up and leave you guys."

"Why the hell not?" Macey asked. "I mean, I love you guys to death, but fuck, I would leave you in a heartbeat if it meant I could go professionally."

Macey's mom was Elizabeth McGrath, one of the most famous woman's soccer players in the world. More often than not, I wondered if she only became interested in the sport because of her mother, or if she had a choice in the matter. Either way, Macey had a lot of pressure on her shoulders following in the footsteps of her mom, so I wasn't the least bit surprised she would go to London without hesitation. Anything to make her mom proud, I was sure.

But I didn't have a mom who could do fifty five different trick shots with a soccer ball.

"Did you talk to Coach Sharp about it?" Emily asked.

"No... well, kind of," I admitted. I pulled the soda tab off the tin can and flipped it over in my fingers, as if it were a coin and I didn't know which side it was supposed to land on. "She seemed really, well, bummed out."

Macey laughed, but it wasn't a humors sound. "No shit," she said, looking at me though her long lashes. "She's losing one of her best players because she couldn't offer you a better deal. Except you're not just a player to her... you're like family. And losing family can suck ass."

Family. I know that word is thrown around loosely and everyone has different definitions of the term, but for me... family was everything. It had to be otherwise I didn't think I could move on. As Macey nicely put it, losing family really does suck ass, and after losing my parents, family meant even more to me than it did before.

Coach Sharp had been part of the family for as long as I could remember. I've only known her for seven years, but I was informed that my parents and Coach went to college together, the three of them inseparable during their youth and beyond. So was she my family? Yes. I wouldn't classify her as anything else.

So now the question was, could I leave my family? My whole family?

"Am I cut out for this? Playing with the boys?" I asked, tilting my head back against the headboard and looked up at the ceiling.

I wasn't sure if I was asking my friends or the heavens above, but it seemed like the heavens weren't answering, so Jamie did for them. "Of course you are."

I didn't respond. I had this theory, no, more like a belief about Jamie that there was a little piece of Heaven inside that tiny girl, but for some reason at that moment, I wasn't sure I believed her. Not even a little bit.

"What's this?" I heard Emily ask. I looked over to see her on my laptop, looking at a Word document titled Pros and Cons to Joining the London Lions. "'Pro; a chance to show the males how strong we females can actually be'. I don't know about you, but that right there seems like a pretty good reason to go."

"Em, stop," I whined childishly. "Get off that. It's stupid."

"No, what's stupid is that you're over thinking this way too much. You have a con here for the weather, like, that shouldn't even be something worth debating."

"It is if you become depressed when it's gloomy."

Emily just looked at me. "Close your eyes."

"No."

"Do it."

"No!"

"Lynn Louise Mercury."

Emily Martin wasn't someone you wanted on your bad side. I had seen her take down three grown men at once before, so I know what I'm talking about. If her sleeve tattoo, septum piercing, and muscles weren't an indicator that you should steer clear from Emily Martin, then her cold gaze would. I swear, she could take someone out with just one look. She was a girl who loved competition, and sometimes even challenges people without meaning to.

Which was what she was doing right then as she looked at me with her golden eyes, challenging me to disobey her orders like a mother would.

So maybe that was why I closed my eyes, knowing it would be a dumb idea to argue with her. Or maybe... maybe I just really wanted to figure out what to do and I was open to anything at that point.

"Good," Emily said. "Now, imagine yourself five years from now. You're on a soccer field with the Portland Thorns, standing next to Alex Morgan as the crowd all around you chants your name. Maybe you're in the middle of shooting a commercial for FIFA, or at a photo shoot to be put on a cereal box. Little girls are asking for an autograph, wanting to follow in the footsteps of their idol, Lynn Mercury." Emily paused, waiting for me to interrupt with a comment about how stupid this was. But I didn't, so she continued. "Now, erase all that and think about where you will be in a few months from now... what do you see?"

I took a few moments to think about it, to really think about it. No matter how much I racked my head, the only thing I saw was Dad. I tried to concentrate on a few months from now, but I was instead taken back in time to when I was ten. Dad and I were in the backyard kicking a soccer ball- teaching me tricks and letting me score goals on him. The smile on my face was vibrant and I tried to remember ever feeling that happy in the past three years and came up empty.

My future, even a few months into my future, was blank. I was always one step ahead of everything; my whole day planned out. My future in sight, always. And I was suddenly ignorant about where I would be in just a few months... and I was terrified.

I played with the soda tab and said, "Nothing. I see nothing."

Emily nodded like she knew that would be my answer from the very beginning. Maybe Emily Martin knew me better than I did.

"What do you think your dad would choose?" Jamie asked.

I looked down at her on the floor and thought about it. I may not have a famous mom, but I did have a dad who was always watching me from above. He wasn't any kind of legend like Macey's mom was, but he was the best soccer player I knew.

My father was a man of many traits. He could be vivacious and wild just as much as he could be stern and cautious. He would do anything to make my brother and I laugh - read us stories in goofy voices or make funny faces behind Mom's back as she talked on the phone - or to make us happy - add an extra scoop of ice cream or take us mini golfing.

But one thing I remembered the most about Dad was that he was impulsive, in the best way possible. Like this one time he came home from work with an actual pony because "there was a sale" and "he looked so sad". Offered a full ride to London? There wasn't a doubt Dad would take that offer.

Then again, along with his brash actions, he was also well aware of the consequences.

I threw the soda tab into the trash can across the room and watched it make a basket. I almost stood up to peer inside, to see what side the tab landed on - heads or tails - but I stayed where I was, wondering... thinking.

So there I sat, looking at all my friends, coming full circle without an answer to Jamie's question.

× × ×

A half hour later I left my friends in my room as I quickly drove to campus to find Lucy. I had lent her my math book the other day and forgot to ask for it back, so now I had to go hunt it down.

As I sat in my car, I thought about my week. Despite what I told Jamie the other day when we went out for lunch, I found myself in Bradley's arms right after. I tried, really, but I couldn't just leave him. I honestly hated myself for crawling back to him, but I didn't know what to do. Bradley was just there and I needed him like I was sure he needed me.

He was the big "CON" on my list. I couldn't leave him.

Fear was keeping me with him. Fear that if I were to leave him I wouldn't be able to find someone else.

I went crawling back to him that night we argued in front of the math building. He called me and he seemed really worn out so I went to his dorm immediately, almost like I was lost without him. And maybe I was. He had me wrapped around his finger and there wasn't anything Jamie could say or what my mind would tell me that would change my mind about being with him. He was there and I guess that was what I really wanted... what I needed.

Parking my car, I jogged up the stairs to the dorm building. I was still in my pajamas, considering it was nearly two in the afternoon, not really caring who saw me. It was just a simple white V-neck top and baby blue shorts. My hair was surely a mess and my face was clear of makeup.

I walked down the hall of the complex and skipped the elevator, taking the stairs instead. When I got to the second floor, I walked down the long hall until I was in front of room 211 and turned the handle of the door, letting myself in.

"Lucy, do you have-?" I stopped mid-sentence as I looked inside the small dorm room.

Being a college student you acquire quickly that you should always knock on a door before entering, even if it was a class room (Macey learned that the hard way). But this was Lucy I was going to see and it was in the middle of the afternoon. But I guess if you have to knock on the door to a supply closet just in case someone was getting frisky, then I guess knocking on the door of one of your teammates dorms also qualified. And that was how I learned the hard way.

In the far corner of Lucy's dorm, there were two people in bed under the sheets, one on top of the other. Their soft groans were cut short when I spoke and the person under the body looked over at me, her brown eyes wide.

I let out a small giggle as I said, "Whoa, sorry. I'll come back later..."

Before I could even make a move toward the door again, the body on top of Lucy looked over at me and I froze where I was at.

The sight of Bradley on top of my friend turned my blood to ice. His light brown hair was messy and pushed back away from his forehead from fingers being laced in it, and his eyes were dark with hunger. I knew that look well, those were the same eyes he looked at me with when I was in the same position Lucy was in. Just last night I was looking into those same dark, hard eyes...

That's when I lost it. I laughed. I laughed sarcastically at how incongruously the situation was. The sound was coming out of my mouth, but I was sure there wasn't a happy smile on my face. I wasn't laughing because of what I was seeing, exactly, but because of what Bradley accused me of doing just the other day.

"What the fuck?" I finally spoke, my hysteria quieting but the amusement wasn't gone from my voice.

Who the hell has sex without putting a sock on the doorknob, or at the very least, locking the door. It was almost like fate wanted me to catch them.

"Lynn," Bradley pleaded as he sat up from Lucy, who was looking between Bradley and I like we were ticking bombs only seconds to ignite - and to be quite honest, I think we were, or at least I was. He leaned against the wall that the bed was pushed up against. "It's not-"

"It's not what it looks like?" I asked, the smile still playing on my lips again. "Was that what you were going to say, Bradley?" He just looked at me with his mouth slightly open, but didn't continue what he was going to say, which only meant that I was right. "How fucking ironic! How dare you accuse me of cheating when that's exactly what you're doing!"

My head was spinning. What surprised me the most wasn't that I caught my "fling" and my friend in bed together, but for the fact that I wasn't even mad. I was feeling a lot of emotions - embarrassed, tired, foolish - but anger wasn't one of them.

"Maybe I did have sex with that Niall guy from the party," I blurted, just to piss him off. "When I left he took me to his hotel room and-"

"Shut up!" Bradley shouted, making me blink from the abrupt attack. He still didn't make any effort to move away from Lucy. "Just shut the hell up, Lynn! You don't mean what you're saying!"

"You don't believe me?" I accused, stepping closer to them. "I would think you would believe that considering that's the kind of girl you think I am; someone who just sleeps around with random people. That's what you told me, anyways."

"Lynn..." I was taken back by the soft voice that didn't come from Bradley. I looked over at Lucy, almost forgetting she was even in the room, almost forgetting that she was involved. She was looking at me, regret in her eyes. And something else, too, I think it was pity. I looked away, ignoring her plea.

"Aside from me, how many other girls?" I asked Bradley. He looked away and down at his hands that were resting on the sheets in his lap like they could somehow save him from the mess he created. "Answer me! You owe me that much."

"Three," he finally answered, looking up at me with soft eyes. I knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to sway me to forgive him like he did all the damn time. "Counting Lucy."

I smiled cruelly, looking up at the ceiling. Something inside me knew that I wasn't the only girl he was seeing. He just always seemed to need me specifically, but shame on me for believing that bullshit.

"Thank you, Bradley, you were the last string I needed to cut. It was good knowing you," I told him as I walked out the open door and marched down the hall.

I was near the stairs when he called my name from the hall. I spun to look at him, the sheet around his naked body as he looked after me, almost pleading with his eyes. He looked pathetic.

"Don't go..."

I gave him a disgusted look and continued my march down the stairs, not caring if he were to follow me. I almost wish he would have, the sight of him wrapped around a white sheet running after me as I made my way outside put a smile on my face, an actual humorous smile.

After I got into my car and took a couple of deep breaths and let the current event settle in, I found myself smiling again.

I felt free.

All I needed was a reason for me to leave his sorry ass, and he handed it to me himself. A weight had lifted from my chest and I can actually breathe. Bradley was a scumbag, and I always knew it, I just needed a solid, not hard to understand, reason to believe it. And I got that today.

But it still felt like there was a rock in my chest.

I took a few deep breaths and looked around. I was alone...

My cellphone on the passenger seat grabbed my attention; head racing with thoughts. I then realized what was holding me back from London. My head, just like Emily had said. So I did something I didn't think I was capable of doing. I shut off my thoughts and grabbed my phone, my thumb hovering over Coach Mathews' name.

The digital clock in my car read that it was a little after two in the afternoon, and then doing some mental math, I figured out it was a little after ten in the evening there in London. Before I could over think it any more than I already was, I pressed the call button and put the phone to my ear.

The phone rang three times before someone answered. "Hello?" they asked, confusion in his voice.

"Is this Aaron Mathews?"

"Yes, this is him."

"This is Lynn Mercury. I... I'm taking you up on your offer to go to London."