× Mercury

I hated hospitals.

I know everyone says that, saying how they hate the smell or how depressing it is and that they knew someone, somewhere in the building, was in pain. Or maybe even because they always get bad news or know someone who died in a hospital.

Not me. I hated hospitals for their stupid architectural design.

All hospitals were the same: a freaking labyrinth. You can never just walk through the front doors and expect to find a desk with someone behind it to help you. Of course not. You have to go through hallways, look through doors, and stand in a waiting room while you smack your head against a wall in aggravation before you can find someone who might be able to point you in the right direction to find the reception desk.

Seven minutes later, I found the desk with a cheery blonde behind the counter. The name plaque on her desk read Penelope Webley. She was wearing purple. That's it. Everything she wore was purple; purple shirt, purple pants, purple shoes, and a little purple flower in her hair. The bright smile on her face made my irritated mood even more irritated.

"I'm looking for a patient, Morgan Cross," I said to the receptionist. "Is she accepting visitors?"

Penelope bit her lip and started tapping away on her keyboard, which, by the way, was decorated in purple stickers.

"Are you a friend?" she asked, looking up at me. When I nodded she looked back at the computer screen. "Visiting hours are over at eight. She's on the fourth floor. The lifts are down the hall to your left."

I got to the row of elevators and pushed the button and waited for the ding, only to be pushed to the side to let a group of people in scrubs and someone on a gurney go in instead of me. I glared as the elevator doors closed, leaving without me.

Finally getting into an elevator and going to the fourth floor, I walked down a long hallway that was eerily quiet. I looked behind me just to make sure I was on the right floor and not some haunted wing of the hospital they never use, and saw a sign that had a large number 4 on it. So I continued as I was endlessly reminded how I hated hospitals.

When I started hearing voices, I followed the sound to another hallway that led me to a large, circular room with a round desk in the center with people in colorful scrubs milling around, answering buzzers from patient, marking things off on clipboards, or sitting on a computer clicking away. Around the circumference of the circular room, there were double doors, no doubt where the patients stayed. Some of the doors were open and I could see people lying in bed watching TV, or up and walking around as they talked on the phone.

"Can I help you?"

I spun and saw a young guy in green scrubs looking at me; the ID clipped onto his pocket said his name was Hans. I was kind of taken aback, not because he startled me, but because he was kind of attractive with short black hair and the deepest brown eyes I had ever seen. His skin was darker and his accent wasn't as thick as the Londoners I knew.

"Uh..." I said stupidly. "Yeah, I'm looking for Morgan Cross."

The guy smiled and he had perfect white teeth behind his perfect desirable lips. "I'm actually on my way to her room. Follow me."

He led me around the circular room and to a set of ajar double doors at the far end. The guy knocked quietly before pushing them open and stepping inside. The inside of the room was like any other hospital room, white walls with a TV attached to the corner, a comfortable chair with a small table, a nightstand, a computer on a desk next to an IV drip and other necessities, and then the white, clean bed in the center of the room with a girl in a hospital gown, her back to us.

"Morgan," the guy said as he walked over to the bed and to the computer. "I'm going to take you're vitals, okay? And you have a visitor."

"I don't want to see-" Morgan started to say, but as she turned to see who it was, her voice died in her throat. She stared at me as the aid grabbed the cuff to take blood pressure and started wrapping it around Morgan's arm gently.

I smiled at her. "Hi, Morgan."

"Lynn? What are you doing here?" she asked, obviously confused, and rightfully so. I mean, I never in my life talked to the girl, never even saw her until that night on Halloween.

Strolling through the room, I took a seat on the lone chair and looked at her. Her blonde hair was a mess and her brown eyes were lacking any kind of light. The blue hospital gown went to the top of her thighs and the socks on her feet reminded me of my fuzzy blanket back in my dorm.

"I would have brought flowers," I said, noticing a bouquet of flowers on her nightstand along with a card, a deflating balloon, a stuffed teddy bear, and a stack of boxed chocolates. "But those are too damn expensive for them to die in a week anyways."

It was a joke, but Morgan didn't even crack a smile. I knew the feeling. Hospitals really knew how to drag your spirits down.

The aid removed the cuff from Morgan's arm and grabbed the stethoscope hanging on the wall and instructed Morgan to take deep breathes as he pressed the end of the instrument to her upper back.

"You're the one who called the cops, right?" Morgan asked into the silence. "That saved me?"

I nodded. "I thought I would come and see how you're doing. I figured you would have been out of here by now..."

After the cute aid got everything he needed, he left the room, leaving the two of us alone. I was never very comfortable with having conversations with strangers, let alone be the one to initiate one, so I kept shifting around in the chair, trying desperately to think about something to say next in the silences that always seemed to follow when I spoke.

"It's my mum," Morgan said softly. "She's making me stay longer because she thinks it was a suicide attempt and wants someone watching me twenty-four seven while I go to rehab for it. That's why I'm still here, a month after it happened."

Silence followed, and I was left looking around the room once again, trying to think of something to say.

Luckily, I didn't have to say anything because Morgan spoke up, "Thank you, by the way," she said. "If you didn't find me in that shed I'd... I wouldn't be alive right now. I never should have taken those pills."

She could have been you! Niall's voice echoed in my head and it was only then did it really hit me how stupid I was at that Halloween party. I could have been the one in the shed, eyes rolled back and shaking violently. I could have taken some pills that didn't mix well together and end up in the hospital. As much as I wanted it to be true, I wasn't invincible. No one was.

Morgan stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the city. The view was beautiful; there was a nice picture of the skyline and very minimal traffic on this side of the hospital. I watched as she looked down at the pedestrians walking on the sidewalk below.

"Has Niall said anything about me?" Morgan asked suddenly. "About the overdose?"

Everyone at University knew what happened to Morgan Cross, it was hard not to since the cops broke up one of the biggest parties of the year. But I desperately wondered why Morgan would care what Niall had to say about it.

"Not that I recall," I told her.

"God, he's such an arse," she muttered under her breath and turned away from the window. "I shouldn't be surprised; he probably doesn't even remember me..."

"He remembers you," I blurted out, remembering when Niall was driving me home from the Halloween party and told me that he and Morgan had slept together.

Morgan's head shot up and suddenly, her deep brown eyes had a little light in them.

"He told me that you two, um..."

Morgan smiled then, but I couldn't detect any humor in it. "Did he tell you that he threw me away like trash when he was finished? Just told me to leave..."

Then she was shaking her head like she wasn't exactly mad at Niall for what he did, but at herself for falling into his ploy like so many other girls before her had. I knew too much about that self-loathing to recognize it anywhere.

"I'm so stupid..." she whispered.

"No, you're not," I found myself saying. "Just because you slept with him doesn't mean you're stupid, or foolish, or even worthless. You just... you just have to learn from your mistake and move on."

Her brown eyes were looking deep into me and I think she saw it, saw that I was speaking from experience. I may not have been Niall's victim, but I was someone's, and I knew all too well how Morgan was feeling right then.

"I think..." she looked me dead in the eyes, "you need to start taking your own advice, Lynn."

That was when I knew that there were just too many damn people in my life that were always right.

× × ×

As soon as I got back to campus after visiting Morgan, I went straight to the Shaw House to give Harry his coffee I promised him earlier today.

As I was walking up the steps to Harry's, my brother texted me asking where I was. I quickly sent one back saying I would be there in the next twenty minutes; knowing he was well accompanied by Chloe.

I felt bad for ditching him when I only had a week and a few days with him. But it wasn't like I knew he was coming to visit, which was kind of the point. So I didn't feel so bad about it. Besides, I had planned to see Morgan way before Anders came.

Inside the Shaw House, I saw Jillian walking towards me, a duffel bag over her shoulder and a blanket in her arms.

"Where are you off to?" I asked her.

Jillian looked up from her phone and smiled when she saw it was me. "I could ask you the same thing."

"I'm here to see Harry."

"Right, I forgot he lived in this building, too," she said. "I'm on my way to see Alex. It's our anniversary tomorrow and I'm going down there to surprise him!"

I nearly dropped the coffees in my hand from the mention of Alex. I had completely forgotten about him. The last time I saw Alex, he was drunk and leaving my dorm room with his tail between his legs once I called him out for nearly cheating on Jillian. Apparently he didn't do what I asked if they still had an anniversary.

"So you two are still going strong?" I asked, biting my tongue.

"Yeah, of course," she said, eyeing me suspiciously. "Why do you ask?"

I avoided her gaze and shifted my weight to one foot. "I don't know. I guess if I was dating someone from a different town, I would be a little weary about them, um, cheating on me, I guess. Don't you have you're doubts?"

"No. I trust Alex, just like he trusts me."

I could feel my fist tightening around the coffees. I quickly loosened my grip before the paper cup could crush and the liquid burn my hand. I was losing my cool, but I had to tiptoe around this delicately. One wrong move and it could blow up in my face. It'll break her, Alex had said when I caught him with Chloe on Halloween night, almost a month ago.

"So, you don't have a sliver of doubt?" I pressed. It would be easier to tell her if she wasn't 100% devoted to him, so I had to start crumbling her walls. "All those pretty girls at his school, without you around, it would be so easy to-"

"What the hell are you trying to get at, Lynn?"

I never knew Jillian to be a serious person (unless it involved juicy gossip), but at that moment there was no amusement in her eyes - just cold, hard, inflexibility. I knew this could go both ways - she would believe me or she could resent me. Either way, I knew that the next words that came out of my mouth would create an avalanche in Jillian's heart.

"Alex is cheating on you."

It was only a whisper, but I knew Jillian heard them like I was shouting in a megaphone.

A small smile spread on her lips to my surprised. I looked at her oddly. Maybe she didn't hear what I said because I was pretty sure a grin wasn't the typical reaction when you're told your boyfriend was cheating on you.

"Why would you say that?" Jillian asked, amusement in her voice, although it was shaky, like she didn't completely understand what was going on.

"Jill," I soothed and looked around to make sure no one was around to hear this conversation. "I saw him, that night on Halloween. He was with Chloe and-"

"Just stop, Lynn. Why would you lie to me like this - lie to my face?"

"I'm not lying, Jillian. Why would I have to gain to lie to you about this?"

Jillian scuffed and hugged the blanket closer to her chest. "I don't know, Lynn. I don't know you're motives! Maybe - maybe you're jealous or something, jealous of our relationship since your love life seems to be in the rocks."

"That's not-" I started as I stepped closer to her, but she sidestepped away.

"Don't. Just don't. Do me a favor and never talk to me again."

She walked around me out the front door, leaving me alone in the entryway with two coffees in my hand and an echoing silence in the air.

Instead of Jillian being trapped under the avalanche I had created, I was the one under the pile of snow left for dead.

Sighing, I continued my journey to Harry's room, knowing there wasn't any more I could say to convince Jillian otherwise.

Once I was on his floor, I walked down the hall and to his dorm, not even bothering to knock on the door before I let myself in. I was instantly engulfed in guitar sounds and a nice, rhythmical humming. The person playing was sitting on one of the beds, their back to me. They didn't seem to notice that they were no longer the only one in the room anymore.

I didn't want to interrupt them, but I knew that I had to get going back to my brother.

"Where's Harry?" I asked.

Harry's roommate, Sam, and also his band mate, turned from the sound of my voice. He looked me up and down before answering. "Out. He should be back any second, though."

I knew very little to nothing about Sam. He gave off the shy, introverted personality so I guess that was kind of the reason why I knew very little of him, and I knew that he preferred it that way. But from what I did know, he seemed like a pretty decent guy.

I nodded and placed Harry's coffee I had been holding down on his desk. "Could you tell him that I got his Americano?"

"Sure."

Before going there, I had hoped to stay and spend some alone time with Harry for a half hour before I had to go back to my brother, but after the unpleasant conversation with Jillian, I just wanted to go back to my room and canopy myself under my blankets.

Turning on my heels to leave the room, Sam spoke up again.

"Hey, Lynn," he said softly. For some reason, I didn't think he was speaking quietly because he was shy, but because of what he was going to say next, and that worried me. "If you don't want to be with Harry, you're going to have to man up and leave. He won't do it; he's too nice of a lad. And you, you know..."

I stood in the open doorway, my brows creased. "And me, what?"

"You're not."