× Mercury

I've come full circle.

A little over four months ago, I was sitting in a similar office back in California with the same four people inside. Except this time it wasn't because I was being offered an opportunity, it was because I was getting kicked out of that opportunity.

Coach Mathews sat in his high and mighty leather office chair behind his mahogany desk, looking nothing short of a CEO of a huge corporation. Or he would have if he wasn't wearing basketball shorts and a black track jacket with the Nike logo on the sleeve.

To my surprise, Coach Sharp was there as well, standing next to Mathews with her arms crossed, looking like she was at a parent teacher conference and the child had been doing poorly in class. She had on black yoga pants and a baby blue sweatshirt with the UCLA logo on the front. Her blonde hair was pushed back into a tight pony tail and her face showed nothing but disappointment.

Seeing Coach Sharp there only made my shame for all this increase by ten.

I sat in one of the chairs on the opposite side of the desk, Niall right beside me. I didn't dare look over at him, but I could see his knee bouncing up and down from the corner of my eye, a clear sign of nervousness. I wanted to take his hand, to reassure him that everything was going to be okay, but I figure that was probably the worst thing I could possibly do at that moment.

I was nervous, too, but it was more of a sick-to-my-stomach nervousness then a jittery one. I took a mental note that the nearest trash can was by the door if it were to ever come to that.

"I just want to be clear on something," Coach Mathews said sternly, looking at the two of us in turn. "You were aware of the rule, correct? This wasn't some kind of miscommunication or anything, right?"

Niall took the liberty to answer for us. Good thing, too, because I was sure going to be using the trash can if I were to speak right now.

"We were aware."

"How did this happen?" Mathews asked and then seemed to regret it and changed his mind. "When did this happen? When did it start?"

"Uh, can you be a little more specific?" Niall questioned cautiously.

"Jesus Christ. Just answer the question, Horan."

The way he said his name was so cold. As far as I knew, there was no way to say the name Horan without feeling flame, but maybe that was just me, so I didn't say so.

Niall sat up, clearly getting agitated. "I need more to go off of then that," he explained. "When did what start? The fucking? The kissing? The relationship?"

"Tell us everything," Mathews snapped, getting just as agitated. "But spear the details."

"I don't understand how that has anything to do with-"

"The second practice," I interrupted, suddenly finding my voice to speak without throwing up all over the beautiful mahogany desk. "That was when we, uh, first kissed."

Both coaches stared at me, obviously taken back that this has been going on since nearly the beginning. Especially since the two of us supposedly hated each other's guts back then. They didn't say anything at first, either because they were trying to understand the timeline or they were just trying to wrap their minds around the idea of us yelling at each other like rival enemies to kissing in a matter of a few days after arriving to London.

I expected Niall to speak up then and continue his argument on why he doesn't understand how this has anything to with determining our fate, but he, too, kept quiet.

"Okay," Coach Sharp said calmly, to my surprise. "And then what?"

I took a breath and sat up in my seat. I figured if I was going to be taken down, then I'd act like a professional doing it. "The first time we slept together was the beginning of December. Everything between the kiss and that was a hit and miss."

"Were you drunk?" Mathews asked.

"What?"

"Were you two drunk when you... slept together?"

"No," Niall spoke up. "We were completely sober."

I caught Coach Sharp's eye and we looked at each other for a moment. I hope she understood that because we were caught, I didn't regret anything... well except maybe the last time we had sex so Chloe wouldn't have gotten video of it in the first place. But that was all. Everything from Niall stealing my essay, to me going through his stuff in his room, to meeting Niall's mother... all of it. I didn't regret anything because like Niall had once said, everything that had happened led us to this moment.

"The relationship is new," I continued to explain. "At first it was just meeting at each other's room and... But then things started to get serious when-"

"They don't need to hear anything else, Lynn," Niall interrupted, cutting his eyes to me.

He was clearly angry, but not at me. He was pissed because we were being forced to tell them everything about our relationship. And I understood that, but I also understood if we didn't tell them, we'd only be sitting here longer.

"What I don't understand is why Coach Sharp is here," Niall asked.

"She's here for a matter that doesn't concern you," Mathews explained sternly.

Was she here because of me? She was my coach for a year and a few months before I got to London, but I've known her since I was fifteen. She had to be here because of me, I just wished it was under different circumstances.

"You two do know that you're kicked off the team, right?" Mathews said. "I can't make an exception because you're my two star players. I have to set an example that I don't play favoritism."

"You're not doing this for favoritism," Niall said. "You're doing it for control. You create fear because it's easier to manage. The rule to not get involved with Lynn was only one of your many guidelines. You don't see your players as players, but as slaves who will jump at your command. You give them that ultimatum to 'follow these ridiculous rules or your kicked off the team', thus creating the fear you feed off of."

"Niall, I think it's wise to keep your mouth shut," Coach Sharp warned. "You're not in a position to start mouthing off."

"Not in the position? What can he do? He already kicked me off the team!"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean we can't help you get onto a team after college."

"That's bullshit!" Niall shouted, standing up from his chair. "You know damn well you can't help me after this. The scouts and recruiters will see that I've been kicked off the team from disobeying orders and instantly bypass me. They don't want someone who rebels against their coach!"

"Niall, sit down," Mathews ordered.

"No! Fuck this; I thought this was supposed to be a discussion about what would happen, not an interrogation with your minds already made up." Then suddenly Niall's hand was in mine and made me stand up. "Come on, we don't need this added into our shit pile."

"Actually," I heard Coach Sharp say before we could get to the door. "That's why I'm here. I came to talk to Lynn... alone."

I looked at Niall and could visibly see the internal struggle. I nodded my head slowly, just enough for him to get the message. You didn't have to know Niall to know that he definitely wasn't going to leave me alone with these two, but in the end he knew he had no power over me.

So he removed his hand from mine and said, "I'll meet you in the car," and left the office.

I took my seat back in the chair across from the two coaches, my mind reeling on what they could possibly want to talk to me alone about.

"You have a choice, Lynn," Coach Sharp said. She walked around the desk and sat in the vacant chair Niall was just in. "I know the only reason you came to London was for Coach Mathews' connections, but since that's off the table you have been offered the choice to finish off the rest of the year here, or go back to UCLA. I can't promise I can let you back on the team, but you can be in town with your friends and grandmother."

I thought about all the friends I made here: Jillian, Jace, all my teammates, maybe even Abby, and wondered how I could possibly leave them behind. But then I thought about all my friends back home: Jamie, Macy, and Emily, not to mention Grandma and Coach Sharp.

But then there was Niall...

"You don't have to decide right now," Coach Sharp said, breaking me from my thoughts. "But it would be wise to figure it out soon. You don't want to get too far behind in school if you decide to wait until the end of the school year."

I thought about Niall and everything we had to do to get to this point. Could I move back and keep things going with him? Jamie and Jace seem to be just fine, but then again, they started out long distance. I had the luxury of being with Niall whenever I wanted... for the most part.

"I know it's a lot to take in, but keep in mind about what happened at your last game," Sharp continued. "That's going to be talked about a lot more here than in California. Moving back would give you the bonus to remove some of this... shit from your pile, as Niall nicely put it."

I smiled at that comment, but it still didn't make anything easier. Niall was a bigger deal than being reminded of what happened on the big screens.

× × ×

I've always liked the art building, it felt so much more alive than the others. Every corner you turn, your eyes land on something mesmerizing. Whoever was worthy enough to have their art featured on the walls of this building have probably made it big somewhere in the world.

The photography wing was especially creative. All types of art have that something special about them, and the art photography had always been so appealing to me. My mom used to order National Geographic when I was younger and I would always steal the magazine just to look at the pretty pictures inside. To be so free and unattached to be able to go out and take these remarkable pictures seemed like a pretty nice goal to have. And now that any chance of going professionally in soccer was off the table, maybe it was a goal I could chase after.

Maybe being kicked off the team was a blessing after all.

"It's been a while since I've seen you in class," Professor Johnson said when I stepped into his classroom.

I smiled at him. "Yeah, I've been... sick."

He nodded and gave me a knowing smile. "Understandable."

Johnson sat at the front of the room and seemed to be grading papers. Was there a test I had missed on one of the days I was gone? It didn't matter, I'd make sure to figure all that out next week. I was there for a different reason.

"Do you have time to talk?" I asked hopefully.

He looked up at me for a moment before nodding and placing his pen down. "Of course. Is there something wrong with a grade I gave you?"

"No, it's not about a grade," I said and stepped further into the classroom. "I was just wondering... how did you know you wanted to do photography?"

"When I dropped out of college," he said simply.

I stared at him, surly hearing him wrong.

Johnson laughed when he caught my expression. "I wish I could tell you I was joking, but I'm not. I was going to school to be an artist, a painter to be exact, and as any art student knows, it's impractical as well as a competitive and unstable career. It was upsetting that something I'd considered my passion was being moved to the back burner, and even sadder that I was giving up. Being in school, I'd lost all interest in painting, so I just quit. I didn't see anywhere around it at the time."

Quitting school was always a possibility for me, but I knew I'd never have the guts to just up and leave. This was my second year of college, if I quite now, I would have all my generals done but have no degree. I could go one more year and get something in photography... All I knew is that I needed to do something. I've had it all planned out from day one, and now suddenly I was left blind because I couldn't keep my hands to myself.

"What I didn't know was that I was doing pretty much the opposite of giving up," Johnson continued. "The revelation hit me when I was lucky enough to get an internship as a photographer's assistant. I wasn't into photography then, but it was a creative job so I thought I'd give it a shot.

"I saw a lot of myself in the person I was working for. He was the epitome of someone who just simply liked photography, but put himself through four years of art school anyways. He wasn't taking photos for magazines like he'd originally hoped; he was taking photos of cosmetics and clothes to pay the bills. But he enjoyed it because he was doing something he loved."

Professor Johnson opened a drawer on his desk, pulling something out.

"This was the first picture I took once I figured out I wanted to be a photographer."

I took the photo from him and looked at the aging image. It was of a lake and it was beautiful. It seemed to have been taken right before sunset, which I have been told was the perfect time to take outdoor shots. I could easily see the rule of thirds, and the grass as the foreground, lake as the mid-ground, and a never ending row of trees in the background. For being his first photograph since knowing what he wanted to do, it was nicely thought out. Being an assistant must have taught him a lot.

"After I got older and managed to earn some money, I decided that I wanted to travel," he said, looking at the photo in my hand as if recalling the memory of when he took it. "I was twenty seven, wasn't married and had no kids. It was the perfect time to go and see the world."

I perked up then. Seeing the world was definitely something I wanted to do.

"Photography is a way of feeling, of touching, of loving. What you have caught on film is captured forever... it remembers little things, long after you have forgotten everything." He took the image back and looked at it for a few solid beats before sticking it back in the drawer. "It's a form of time travel. I have so many pictures of civilians in all the places I've visited, just living their lives. I like to go back and look at all of them and wonder where they are now and if they like where they ended up. Because I do. Dropping out of college was the best decision I've ever made."

"I want to travel the world, too," I blurted out. "Photography was something I never really thought about pursuing a career in because of soccer, but lately I've been thinking more and more about it."

Johnson nodded. "Traveling is always fun," he said with a smile. "But when you go, make sure you don't have anyone behind who will miss you too much. I'd reckon the sooner the better so you don't have any kids or a significant other to worry about."

Kids... significant others. Those were two things I knew I never needed to worry about.

And then I thought of Niall and how he had a dream of getting married and having kids. I never asked how advanced he had thought that out, but I knew enough that he was pretty passionate about fulfilling God's reason we were put on this earth.

"Graduate first," Johnson interrupted my thoughts with a teasing smile. "Just because it worked out for me, dropping out may not have the same outcome for you."

"I'll make sure to stay in school," I smiled back.

"And trust your instincts," he added quickly when I started to walk away. "You may have conflicting feelings about this, but always trust your gut."

Something my father had always done, and something he always told me to do; followed your gut. I nodded at the professor and gave him one last smile before leaving the classroom.

Talking to him was a good idea. He may not have given me an answer as to what to do, but I wasn't really expecting it to be black and white. Rarely anything was.

Making my way out of the building, I passed the two trees intertwining. There was a light breeze that coasted over the rooftops, brushing off the freshly fallen snow in a puff of white. The slight wind blew the branches, like they were searching for each other's warmth.

Automatically, my hand went up and I clasped my hand around the ring around my neck.

Something my grandma told me when I was decisive about leaving California and going to London rang in my head, yet another thing my father always said; there are far better things ahead then any we leave behind.

Eventually I found my way back to my dorm. Jillian had texted me saying Chloe was at The Courtyard Bar and that it was safe to go to my room, and I took the opportunity so I wouldn't have to run into her. As much as I would like to give her a piece of my mind, I knew that I would probably lose my cool and make the situation worse than it already was. I was already kicked off the team; I didn't want to be kicked out of the school, either.

Entering the dorm, my speculation was right - all my stuff had been shoved into a corner carelessly.

The bedding had bet ripped off and thrown in a pile under the bed, along with my clothes that were in the dresser and all the random things (most of it was makeup) that was on the vanity. Picture frames and the images that were on the wall were thrown in the corner by the door, and from the looks of it, had been stepped on a few times. I guess this wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Chloe could have taken everything and thrown it in the dumpster in the back of the building. She had a little respect, anyways.

I didn't get mad. I should have, but I didn't. All of this wasn't surprising to me and I accepted it in grace.

I started by picking up the makeup under my bed as well as the books I had lying around. I ended up finding my laptop in the mess of bedding, luckily unharmed. After packing a backpack of all the things that I absolutely needed, I went over to the pictures in the corner.

The one image that seemed to have the most damage of being stepped on was when Emily had asked a hiker to take a picture of all us girls. We were on a cliff, facing the ocean with our arms in the air and back to the camera. I remember when that was taken; I remembered everything about that day. Same with the image lying next to it from a time Jamie and I went to the mountains to ski.

Gathering the images, I made sure to look at each one and remember when they were taken.

Just remember where you came from, Emily had told me as she handed me the stack of pictures before I jetted off to London.

I had a choice to make: stay in London and be with Niall, or go back to California and be with friends and family. Normally I wasn't one to let a boy move my emotions so much that I was actually debating if I should even go back home, but after everything the two of us have gone through...

But then something Professor Johnson said struck me and I suddenly knew what I had to do.

It was an easy choice. Too easy. And that was the saddest thing of all.