The Will To

T W E N T Y - F O U R (a pie shared)

The apartment smelled like pumpkin when I entered. As soon as the front door closed, Nola appeared from around the kitchen wall, her hair pulled into a messy bun and a dusting of white powder along her cheek. She'd been baking. Nola only baked for two reasons, and I was hoping it was the second.

"Either you're PMSing or you're making a peace offering," I said, walking closer.

Nola frowned and slumped her shoulders. She wiped her hands along her striped apron and brushed a few strands of loose hair away from her face. The sweet pumpkin smell intensified as I grew closer.

I sighed, dismantling my guard. "I'm sorry, Nola—for what I said the other day. I didn't mean to take it that far, and I said more than I meant."

She waited for a few seconds before she said, "You're right, it's a peace offering."

"I should be the one baking. I didn't use my nice words with you."

"Will," Nola started, "you're a terrible baker and you don't have many nice words."

"Yeah, well, there's that," I said through a dry laugh.

She stepped closer and placed a hand on my shoulder. "I made a pumpkin pie. I heard you on the phone with your mom a couple nights ago and all about your plan to sneak some pies from you dad's new wife. So, I figured I'd make one for us to share before we go home." She looked towards our tiny dining table. "What do you say? Pie for dinner?"

Of course her pumpkin pie was amazing. I'd often told Nola that she needed to expand her list of reasons to bake, but she stood by her claim, explaining that she could only get in the mindset to dirty so many dishes and measure everything out in certain situations—not to mention the Junior Fifteen would have been downright embarrassing for the both of us.

As I'd failed to eat because I'd lost my appetite with Reid at Zaatar's, it came rushing back seated with Nola. We'd both had two slices (mine from right out of the pan and hers from a plate), Nola propped her elbows on the table as the air in the room shifted.

"Listen, Will, I am sorry about everything—about how things happened the other night—but I can't just change my mind and accept that your plan with Reid is a good idea," she said. "I just can't"

I forked another piece of pie but didn't bring it to my mouth. "Okay. I get it."

"Do you?" she asked carefully.

"Yeah. I do. It's got to be hard to see the reasoning behind it—behind something like this. I mean, not every girl's dream is to lose her virginity to the bad boy. Or maybe it is," I added, more so as a joke to lighten the mood. "But probably not for the reasons that I'm doing it."

My attempted joke only made Nola frown again. "Will, I just... Okay, I can understand your reasoning. I can. But what I'm trying to get at is that I don't think that it's really going to change anything, at least in the way you want. It's not going to make you feel better, and I just—"

"It's not about feeling better," I repeated for what felt like the millionth time.

"Okay, okay. I know," she acquiesced, biting her lip. "Can I ask you a question though?"

I nodded, swallowing a piece of pie.

"Have you... have you thought about what will happen when you meet someone? Someone you like. Someone who you might want to share that with—sex."

"Yeah. I'll sex with them," I stated frankly, like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"You don't think—and I'm asking this as your best friend, Will, so just really think about it, okay?—you don't think that having slept with Reid for your plan is going to affect how you experience sex with another person?"