The Will To

T W O (donatella)

My apartment was a hot mess. Literally hot and a mess. Nola was hunkered over her desk, mouth parted and focused on the screen of her laptop, like she was in the middle of dismantling the student loan system—which she'd threatened to do on multiple occasions. A bag of chips was opened on her desk with crumbs scattered beside it and on the floor, and the many contents of her tattered bag lay around it as if it had exploded. Papers, multiple layers of clothes, a collection of makeup, and her hair straightener were splayed across the floor.

Nola packed her bag as if she was a traveling salon.

On top of the mess, our apartment was even hotter than inside the Criminal Psychology lecture hall. If I could peg the reason for the heat on someone other than our faulty air conditioner and location at the top of our apartment complex, I'd have two throats to chop today.

"Solve a mystery for me: why do you need to bring your straightener to class with you?" I asked, finally slipping out of my sweater and dipping inside my room to snatch a t-shirt. When I reappeared inside the living room, Nola said, focused while biting her lower lip, "Because you never know."

"Never know what?"

She grinned coyly. "It's a weapon, Will. In more ways than one."

I stuck my hand inside the open chip bag and dispensed a handful of crumbs into my mouth. "Ah, yes," I said, licking my fingers. "Kill 'em with sleek hair or burn a few fingers."

She clicked her tongue while staring at her computer screen. "Don't forget the cord."

My mind traveled through all the ways in which a cord could be used as a weapon as I said, "You have problems."

Nola shrugged. "I'm prepared." After her fingers flew over the keyboard in a blur, she snapped her laptop shut, rolled her chair towards me, and bridged her fingers. "So, you going?"

I knew exactly where she meant but said casually, "Going where?"

Nola rolled her crystal eyes. "You're going."

Untucking my hair from the collar of my shirt, I dug my hand inside the chip bag and grabbed another handful of crumbs. Nola smacked my hand and a dusting of chip particles sprinkled over the floor, adding to the already present mess.

"Those are mine," she said. "I was saving them to funnel from the bag and into my mouth."

"Now they're the floors'."

Nola glanced downwards but wasn't easily distracted. She leaned back in the chair and stated, "Chips won't save you. Don't avoid the question."

"What question?"

Her pink mouth pinched. "Will, you've been using me to hit those frat parties since... since you know when. I know you're going. And now that you have this new agenda..."

Nola knew of my plan to seduce Reid Reynolds, albeit a vague interpretation. She neither approved nor disapproved and instead hummed thoughtfully when I'd glazed over my plan. Not that she could talk. She lured guys into her clutches like it was some sort of game since I'd met her freshman year.

"I know you've got about a hundred black dresses. Can I borrow Esmerelda or Wilhelmina or whatever name you call them?" I asked. "Ried likes black."

"Reid likes casual sex, Will," Nola said with an eyebrow disappearing into her side-swept bangs. "Not sure the color of your dress is going to matter much in the scheme of things." She crossed her arms as a slight wave of concern softened her into a frown. "You're really going to do this?"

"Yes," I said frankly.

Nola acquiesced by expelling a breath. "Okay, then. I've got fifteen black dresses. Not a hundred, and I think Donatella will be perfect for the job. She's fierce though. Don't say I didn't warn you."