× Mercury

I was sore in places I didn't even know I had muscles. There was still two hours left of my shift and I was about ready to pass out on one of the tables. I was straining myself to my limit, with practice all week, working at The Courtyard Bar, and everyday school work.

Also what happened in the locker room four hours ago was another reason I was so tired. I could still feel the burns from the marks Niall had left on my neck, only hidden by an ugly turtleneck I had found in my gym bag. Not to mention how it was nearly impossible to walk let alone manage to carry drinks and trays to customers.

What happened a few hours ago was a little embarrassing on my part. I had caved way too soon. My plan was to make him sweat; to wait until he couldn't possibly stand it anymore. But I was the one to break instead.

I needed to feel him. After a week of detachment and broken conversations, we came back together in the only way either of us knew how to repair the bond we had. We connected when we talked, but touching either other, lusty or not, was where the real power was. Later we would spend time discussing what had happened and how to make it whole again. But for now, this was how we would operate.

I was in the middle of wiping down one of the booth tables when a hand landed on my shoulder, taking me out of my thoughts.

"Your energy is something to admire," Jace said as he came up from behind me. "After practice I took a nap. There's no way I'd be able to juggle everything you do and stay awake."

"I blame my mother for my vitality," I told him as I walked back behind the bar counter. Jace followed after me and took a seat on one of the stools. "She was always doing something."

Jace ordered a drink and I quickly mixed it up for him as we chatted.

Making it to the Women's World Cup had always been the ultimate achievement for me, but I wasn't so sure anymore. I thought being away from the sport during the holidays would make me crave it again, but now that I was back, that wasn't the case.

Women's FIFA had been a tradition in the Mercury household for as long as I could remember, my parents throwing parties for the event, having friends over on the couch as they stuffed their faces with party foods and cheered whenever the US scored a goal. That tradition had died along with my parents, but I never thought I would ever lose interest in the sport.

I owed it to Liam's little cousin for opening my eyes to that fact.

"It's insane," Jace expressed excitedly. "I mean, we're going to be in Sports magazine!"

College soccer had never been as popular as professional soccer, and that was true all around the world. But ever since I joining the men's league, it was the only thing people could talk about. And it wasn't just here in London, but even in parts of the United Kingdom where we don't even travel to. And it didn't stop there. Just a few days ago, Emily called me saying that she saw me on NBC for a small segment, talking about my history and where I was at now.

"Easy for you to say," I said a little bitterly. "You won't be on the cover."

"Oh, relax, you looked great in the photos."

"Yeah, but at what cost?" I asked seriously. "They think I'm some kind of diva or something for going against what they wanted me to do. I'm terrified what they'll say about me in the article because of it."

Jace looked at me, his bright blue eyes staring into mine. "You shouldn't give a shit what they say about you," he said, sincerity in his tone. "You spoke your mind and stood up for what you believed in, that's all that matters. They should admire you for that, not trash you."

He was right and I should be proud of my relentless drive, but being in such a widely held magazine like that, I really, really didn't want to be portrayed badly. My future was on the line.

Then we moved onto something else, Jace telling me about Jamie and how their FaceTime dates were going really good as if Jamie hasn't already told me. Then he explained everything that was going on with Hazel and how her parents were struggled with all the bills and the current situation with the chemotherapy. My opinion on Hazel was still up in the air. It might have to do with that the fact that I didn't know her that well, or because of the history she and Jace had. But I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt if Jace was.

The little bell on the ledge between the kitchen and the bar went off and I excused myself briefly while I took the order and walked to the table it belonged to.

"Uh, I didn't order this," they said before I could walk away.

I looked up and saw Jason; one of Chloe's men she had been sleeping with. After spending all night in the library last night, I had come back to the dorm to find the two of them passed out on the bed nearly naked.

"Sorry," I muttered and grabbed the plate again. "Yours will be out in a minute."

Jason looked at me, his blonde hair falling into his face. It wasn't the same color as Niall's hair, it was darker and didn't look as soft. "You look like you got a lot on your mind."

"Yeah," I said like it was obvious. "I kinda have a big game in a few days."

He leaned back against the booth and grinned like he had a secret. "That's right," he said. "The first BUSA game. People are placing bets, you know. A lot of money is riding on you."

"You're really not helping the nerves."

"It's not just you. The whole team. Though, there are bets going on between you and that Horan lad. The Royal Due they're calling you, right?"

I stood up straighter, suddenly a lot more interested. "What do you mean bets between us?"

Jason shrugged liked it didn't matter. "Just that people generally think you two are a thing behind closed doors even though they know it's, like, against your coach's rule or something. They're placing bets if you two will come out or not. I don't think it's true, though. I mean, someone as hot as you wouldn't go for a pig like Horan."

People were putting bets on us, not just on the game, but on our private lives!? I thought it was bad that the tabloids were exploiting us, but now actual people at the university were turning soccer into some gossip column in E! News. I knew people had their speculations on us, but I never would have thought it would come down to money.

And what made the whole thing worse was that they all had the right to believe it because, as much as it pains me to admit it, the two of us were doing things behind closed doors.

Were we getting too sloppy? Were people catching on that the two of us have been, as the British say, "shagging"? But then I thought back to the beginning, to the time when I hated Niall - when I thought I hated Niall. The rumors had started up then, assuming things that weren't actually happening. So maybe we weren't getting careless and people were just too damn eager to know the latest scandal, even if there was a possibility of it being bullshit.

I walked away from Jason's table and delivered the plate a few booths down from him where it belonged. Then I went back to the bar were Jace had been watching me the whole time.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, fine," I sighed and decided to change the topic. "By any chance, do you know Spanish?"

Jace's brows furrowed and he looked at me like I lost my mind. "A little, why?"

I bit my lip, wondering if it was even worth mentioning, but I'd be lying if it wasn't killing me to know what he had said the other night.

"Niall said something to me in Spanish," I explained. "I tried googling it but I have no idea how to spell it let alone know if I even have the right words. I thought maybe you could help me."

"Why don't you just ask Niall what he said?"

"I did! He just keeps telling me not to worry about it but it's driving me up the wall."

Jace sighed. "Alright. I'll try to help you."

"He said something like estroy de parade enamo de ti... I think."

"I have no idea what you just said, but I'm pretty sure that de ti means of you. That's all I know, I'm sorry. You could ask the Spanish professor or something."

I slumped my shoulders. I already asked Jamie to help translate because I know she took a semester of Spanish in high school, but she came up empty. Jace was my last resort. I could go to the Spanish Professor, but I've never even seen her let alone talked to her. I'd feel weird asking for her help when I don't even have a class with her. Of course, this whole thing would have been easier if I actually knew what I was saying. I probably butchered the hell out of whatever phrase Niall told me.

"No it's fine," I said disappointingly. "But speaking of Niall, I'm kind of surprised you're not here with him. Don't you two always drink together?"

Jace looked at me oddly. "Niall's in his room packing."

This time I stared at him strangely. "What?"

"Niall told me that his brother called during practice and left a message for him," Jace explained. "His mum had a heart attack. He's going to Ireland to be with her."

"Oh my God."

"Did he not tell you?"

"No!"

Jace's eyes went wide. "Shit, maybe I wasn't supposed to say anything..."

"Why wouldn't he tell me?" I asked.

His brother called him during practice and left a message, so that meant Niall must have listened to the voicemail shortly after we left the locker room together. I had my phone with me all day so it wasn't like I missed a text or a phone call from him. Why didn't he tell me!?

"His flight leaves in two hours," Jace told me. "If you leave now you might be able to catch him."

I slammed the rag in my hand down on the counter and quickly walked to the back room and gathered my things. I only had a little over an hour of my shift left, Jillian could cover for me. After pinning my name tag onto the bulletin board and clocking out, I walked out of the room and found Jillian talking to a customer.

"Let me see your car keys," I said, interrupting the conversation.

Jillian looked at me confused. "What, why? Where are you going?"

"There's an emergency and I need your car," I tried my best to explain in the simplest way I could. "Jace can give you a ride home. Right Jace?"

From the mention of his name, Jace looked over at us. "I guess, yeah."

Jillian looked between us, trying to figure out if she should let me go. I danced on the heels of my feet impatiently, but I knew if I rushed her, she would back out without question.

"Alright fine," she said and dug into her pocket and handed me her keys. "I just hope everything's okay."

"It will be," I assured her.

I told her a quick thank you and ran out of the bar and to her little lime green Ford Fiesta. It only took me three minutes to get to the Newman House and as soon as I parked the car (horribly, I will add), I ran inside and up the stairs to the second floor, knowing the elevator would just waste my time.

Once on the floor, I went to room 208 and rapped my knuckles on the door repeatedly. When he didn't answer right away, I got annoyed.

"Niall!" I shouted. "I know you're in there; I can see the light from under the door!"

The second the words left my mouth, the door flew open. "What are you doing here?" he asked dejectedly, looking a mess.

His long, blonde hair that was verging on the edge of becoming brunette was unruly, the golden tips randomly sticking up so they intertwined into beautiful chaos, like he spent hours running his hand through it. His white shirt was partially tucked into his grey sweatpants and his posture was ridged and filled with fatigued.

The Niall standing in front of me now was a complete contrast to the Niall from the locker room.

"Jace told me about your mom," I said softly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Niall just shook his head and walked back into his room. "Because it doesn't concern you."

I stepped inside and closed the door. "That shouldn't matter," I said. "Niall, your mom's in the hospital and you were just going to leave without saying anything?"

"I would have told you."

"When? When you got back?"

He didn't respond. I watched him as he continued to pack, putting clothes and toiletries into his suitcase.

There were two main reasons why a person keeps something from another person: logical reasons and emotional reasons. Niall thrived off anything logical, but there wasn't any motive for him to keep this news from me. It wasn't like I couldn't handle the information, so it must have been emotional. Was he doing it out of fear, guilt, or shame maybe?

"I'm coming with you," I blurted.

Niall laughed bitterly. "I don't think so."

I walked over to his bed, opposite Niall, and closed his suitcase so he would look at me. "Your mom is in the hospital, you need emotional support and I'm going with you."

"My brother will be there," he argued, flipping the suitcase open again.

"The brother you told me that you never talk to anymore? How much support could he offer?"

"This is why I didn't tell you, Lynn," Niall snapped, as he continued packing. "I knew you would do this. Stay here and go to practice and all the shit Coach has lined up for the team. It's bad enough I won't be there, but the reporters don't need to be speculating anything if you're gone, too. I'll be back before the game on Tuesday."

He was right. Having us both gone during the time when the team was being watched the most was not a very good idea. Especially with all the rumors around the two of us as it was. Besides, I didn't have a plane ticket.

He finished packing and tugged on his coat, and I knew that I had ran out of time.

"I still think your emotional health is more important then what people think about us," I added.

"It's just a heart attack, Lynn," he explained. Then he realized what he said and rephrased. "I mean, it's not like she's dying in the hospital or anything. It could be a lot worse. I'll be fine."

As he grabbed his keys and opened the door, I grabbed his hand to make him stop. "Niall, you were there for me when I watched the video from my mom, and you were there when I faced Bradley for the last time. Let me be there for you."

"That was different," Niall argued.

"How was that different? Is there something in your hometown you don't want me to see? To know? Because I felt like that when you came but that didn't stop me. I let you in, Niall. Why can't you do the same?"

I almost brought up New Years and how Niall was withholding stuff from me again, but I would have been just as bad as him. Using that as a weapon was just as much as a form of manipulation as anything else. That wasn't how I wanted to get information from him.

"I have to go," he said before tugging my hand away from his and left the room, leaving the door open and me inside.

I didn't run after him. I almost did; I stood in the doorway as he walked down the hall, but I knew it was useless. So instead, I stayed inside his room for a half hour, just lying on his bed.

The sheets smelt like him - used cologne, body wash, and his own personal scent all in one. It's the same smell I can't seem to get out of my pillows and blankets, the same smell whenever I hug him or things get intimate. His signature scent left marks in my life and it would be remembered years from now.

I eventually left; making sure the door was locked on my way out. I drove back to the Aspin House and once I was in my room, I sent a quick text to Jillian that her car was parked outside and that she could come get it any time.

Grandma called, and I answered, but I felt bad because I was only giving her one worded responses. And then when Jamie called, I didn't even bother picking up.

I hated this feeling in the pit of my stomach. Just knowing Niall wasn't on campus anymore made me feel lost, and I hated myself for feeling that way about a boy. I remembered the time when I hated Niall and didn't want him around and I desperately longed for those times to come back. Things were easier back then. No messy emotions, everything was black and white and simple.

Even though he had left not too long ago, I already missed him.

As I walked around my room putting clean clothes away, I found a business card on my desk. It was the card Liam had given me with his friend's information on it; the gallery owner. Some time had passed and I even wondered if it was worth getting in contact with her. Would she even remember me?

The clock on my phone said it was almost nine in the evening, so hoping for the best, I dialed the number on the card.

"Kathleen Morita speaking," a delicate voice answered.

"Uh, hi. I'm Lynn Mercury," I said a little shyly. "I'm not sure you remember, but Liam told me a while ago that you saw my photographs and-"

"Yes, yes! I remember, dear!" she interrupted cheerfully. "I got to say, I'm surprised to hear from you. I thought for sure you weren't interested since I didn't hear from you right away. But I'm so glad you called!"

I walked the room, taking a seat on my bed. "Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't call right away. If you're no longer interested, I understand."

"No, not at all!" she expressed. "When I saw the photographs, I was instantly moved by the story they captured. I can't just let something like that slip away. It's an amateur showing, for beginners and students to get their works out there for the world to see. Would you like to meet up and talk about a possible spot in the show? You don't have to make any decisions, just grab a coffee and chat?"

"Yeah, I'd like that."

We discussed times and places and finally narrowed something down. We said goodbye and hung up. The moment I sat my phone down, I let out a sigh of relief. I didn't know how nerve wracking that phone call was until it was over. Having one of my pieces up in a gallery is a dream come true, and have it happen without even doing much to get there was even better. But did I really want the world to see my work? I was little ticked off knowing Liam had showed them to a stranger, was I ready for a million strangers?

Knowing I was stressing myself out too much, I decided to call it a night and go to bed. I went to my dresser and pulled open a drawer, looking through my belongings for something to change into.

That was when I found the green jersey on top of the dresser, the number 33 peeking out from the fold. I grabbed it and held it out in front of me. Talk about nostalgia.

It was Niall's favorite shirt, the one with the Irish soccer team crest on the front. He had said it was a Football Association of Ireland jersey, a team he would go see in Dublin every chance he got.

I tugged the shirt I was wearing over my head and dropped it on the floor before pulling on the jersey. Even though it had been washed, the shirt still smelled like him.

I spent the rest of the night staring at the wall until I fell asleep.

× × ×

Early the next morning, seven sharp, the team and I were interviewed for the Daily Mail. Beforehand, Coach told everyone that Niall was out for a family emergency, but he didn't elaborate further. It was funny to me that since Niall wasn't present for the interview that no personal questions that revolved around the two of us was asked. The questions were strictly based around the sport and I was happy. I wanted to think that these reporters were just more qualified than the others, but I knew better than to believe that.

The rest of the day was a blur. I stayed in my room sitting on my laptop not really doing anything but scroll endlessly down Twitter and other social medias. Chloe came home today and unpacked her things, but just as soon as she came, she was gone again, saying something about meeting some guy and that she might not be home tonight.

All the energy I had the other day had suddenly drained out of me.

After practice that day, Jace gave me a ride home.

"Any word from Niall?" I asked. I hadn't bothered to call or text him since he left last night.

"Yeah," Jace said as he pulled out of the parking lot. "His mum had another attack. They're going to keep her in the hospital for an additional twenty-four hours to keep watch of her. But I'm starting to worry about him. He didn't sound so good on the phone. Apparently it's pretty serious."

I didn't say anything. There wasn't anything I could do to make him feel any better since he brushed me off the first time.

"You know," Jace started optimistically. "Plane tickets to Ireland don't cost very much..."