The Will To

F O R T Y (best laid plans)

 The plan to meet Reid at his apartment for dinner felt like a dirty secret that even I was too ashamed to admit to myself. It didn't feel right, like I was moving against a current. But I'd been moving against a current for a long time; it was how I knew I was going the right direction, and it seemed strange to let go and drift. I'd been fighting too long to give up now, and I'd have all the time in the world to relax and float downriver at my leisure after I finished what I'd started—what I'd been forced to start.

That was the excuse I told myself when I pulled up to Reid's apartment building, when I stepped out of my car, and when I faced the front door of his complex. The current was strong and I was tired, but I had to keep pushing. Giving up wasn't in my repertoire. I'd lost focus lately, and it was time I refocused with everything I had. The campus had a serial rapist and I believed I'd uncovered the identity. It was my duty to follow through and expose Reid for what he was—it had been my plan along, anyway, hadn't it?

Standing in front of Reid's building door, I thought of my original plan. I'd been set on making him care for me, for sleeping with him, for leaving him high and dry. Though I felt shame, it was not in the way that I thought. I was ashamed that I'd developed that plan and seriously believed it would achieve anything. In nearly four months, what had it achieved? Wasted time and energy, bending myself into something I wasn't, and the disintegration of a relationship with a person I truly cared about. A person who actually liked me. Yet, after everything, I was still strapped with the same amount of shame as before I'd started working towards my plan, if not more.

And now I was planning on entering Reid's apartment to ascertain whether he was the campus rapist with no plan or hard evidence?

What the hell was I doing?

Nola had been right: I'd placed too much significance on Reid. He represented everything I despised and was angry towards, and it had clouded my judgment. I'd gotten carried away, using him as a punching bag for all my frustrations. Reid may very well be the rapist, but my plans with him had been flawed from the start. And this one was no exception. They were not helping this campus and they were not helping me.

I may never be able to stop fighting the current but if I'd learned anything lately, it was that I didn't have to brave it all alone.

Everything felt wrong, and I needed to leave.

So I did.

Turning a heel, I skidded down the cement stairs leading to Reid's apartment, bumping into a sturdy force before I hit the sidewalk.

Recovering, I stumbled backwards and tensed when I realized the sturdy force had been Reid. He lent me a pair of quizzical brows and stated, "You're early."

"Five minutes," I responded, sounding breathless, like I'd run to his doorstep when all I wanted was to run away. "Perfectly acceptable."

Reid was carrying a plastic bag and transitioned it to his other hand. "I went out and got a few groceries for the tacos. Hope you weren't waiting long."

I'd been depleted of my words. Only urgency filled me, and it was begging me to escape.

"Um, you wanna come in?"

"No."

His eyebrows formed a solid line. "Okay. Something wrong?"

Reeling backwards, I hit the sidewalk and looked at Reid. The porch and streetlight showered him, exposing his confusion. But all I saw when I looked at him was everything I'd never been able to conquer, like the world placed a spotlight over him to shove it in my face. My identity, my safety, my rights had been taken from me, and I'd thought the only way to seek justice was to get revenge. I'd never get revenge. And even if I did, it wouldn't get me what I wanted. It wouldn't restore what had been taken from me.