The Will To

S E V E N T E E N (projects, parties, and pens)

Blue light crept inside my bedroom window. I silenced the annoyingly pleasant alarm on my phone, making note to change it to something a bit more fitting. Waking up this early should be a crime. Ominous funeral bells would be much more suitable. Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I ambled to my closet and pulled out a pair of running tights and athletic hoodie.

Despite the absence of the sun, I never missed a workout.

A series of beeps sounded as soon as I stepped into the dark living room as the strong, bitter scent of freshly brewed coffee filled my nose. The smell alone was waking me. Grabbing a mug from the drying rack, I poured a steaming cup and stirred in a splash of half and half from the fridge. I rested against the kitchen counter and took my first sip, closing my eyes. The dull morning light spilled around my waking silhouette.

I opened my eyes to the soft creak of a door opening, and, a second later, Nola appeared inside the kitchen, her olive skin and messy hair lit by the screen of her phone as it rested just below her chin. She usually didn't stir from bed until absolutely necessary, about an hour or so from now, and even then she had a hard time waking up. Her eyes, I noticed, were wide and clear.

"What is it?" I asked her.

Nola didn't respond but kept staring at her phone.

"Nola? Are you sleep-hacking or something?"

She met my gaze. Terror resided there, something horrible resting in her uncharacteristically awake eyes. I asked again, "What is it?"

"There's—there's been..." She lowered her phone. "Will, someone else has been raped."

The morning light that had managed to penetrate our apartment was sucked right back out the window. Darkness. The world had gone black. My ears pounded. I felt heavy, like I'd sink right through the floor.

"How do you know?" I finally asked.

She stepped closer. "I placed some alerts on certain websites after Lyla's rape. Social media, local police reports, other public domains—if anything comes up with a match, I get notified." She gulped and peeked at her phone again. "And something came in this morning. A report from the county police department." Taking a breath, she paused before saying, "A woman was raped last night, Will. On campus. I don't know anything else."

"It doesn't say where it happened?"

Nola shook her head. "But, Will..."

I knew what she was thinking, what she was too afraid to say, the reason for the fear surrounding her. Lyla's rape had been just over two weeks ago, and it seemed too much of a coincidence for another woman to have been raped again. Nola and I both suspected the same thing: it was a repeat offender.

"I have to go," I said roughly, setting my nearly full mug of coffee into the skink.

"Will," Nola called carefully. "Where—what are you doing?"

"To the gym," I responded as I reached the front door.

She bit her lip, still tucked inside the kitchen. "Don't do anything... Why don't you just stay here?"

"No. I need to go."

"You can take one morning off, Will."

Anger surged through my veins. I felt like I was on fire. Staying inside the apartment wouldn't get rid of the heat. I'd sit and simmer until I exploded. Nola knew that. I didn't understand why she was asking me to do anything different.

"I'll see you after class today," I said and stepped through the door.

The hour-long workout made me sweat and pant and ache, but none of the heat I carried dissipated.