The Will To

O N E (four-letter word)

I was a slut.

Actually, according to my graduating class, I was also a whore, skank, tramp, and—my personal favorite—trollop (but don't tell Becca Estavez I said so, as she thought I was wounded when she slung the rather adorable insult at me from over her shoulder in passing) but slut was what stuck. Slut was what followed me to university.

Despite what they tell you, moving does not offer a fresh start, especially when my university was attended by over half the people I graduated with.

Ah, the beauty of small towns.

And same-age peers.

So much beauty.

I could remember the first day I'd been handed the label. November fifth. A cold front had swept in. The fallen leaves were frosted and crunched beneath my feet on the short walk to the restaurant. Walter Hutton stood from the table when I approached, sporting the same half-grin and bright set of eyes as when he'd asked me out. We ordered dinner and dessert. We laughed and flirted. He paid. I bit my lip as he walked me to my car. He placed a warm, soft kiss on my mouth before opening my door, asking if I wanted to continue the date at his house. I stole one more kiss because, yeah, I wanted another and playfully told him I'd see him at school tomorrow. We said goodbye, and I drove home.

The night was recounted to me many times the following day at school, primarily in hushed tones when I entered a classroom or walked past a group of people in the hallways, but it wasn't the same night that I'd lived through. This, however, didn't matter; I'd been tattooed with a label. Slut. And I'd been naive to think I'd leave it behind when I walked through the doors of my high school for the final time.

Walter Hutton did not attend Washington State University. He whisked off to some fancyass school out east, and I was willing to bet his sparkling eyes and dimpled chin never once thought of me. He was surely too busy fabricating more dates with innocent girls.

He would never suffer an ugly label and would instead dispense them like gifts.

So, what was a girl to do? If I was going to be called a slut, I was going to own it. The alternative was being owned by it, and I wasn't about that. It'd been three years since I'd been chained with the name, and I had two years left at university. I wasn't about to be debilitated by a four-letter word.

I was a four-letter word.

xxx

The lecture hall was unbearably hot. It was October. Prime sweater weather. I'd worn a cable knit one in mustard to celebrate the occasion. Yet, I prayed to everything holy that I could take it off without anyone seeing so that I could cool down. If only I were invisible.

I laughed under my breath.

Me? Invisible? I'd prayed to everything holy for that to be true for years but, alas, here I stood—complete with a battered target on my back. People would notice me taking off my sweater, and I'd earn myself a new name by the end of the lecture.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't halfway tempted to remove it. Just for kicks.

Fanning myself while pulling at my sweater to induce some airflow, I decided that my agenda for the afternoon was forgoing the homework Professor Higgins was currently assigning—Psychology of Criminal Behavior could wait—and tracking down the person responsible for setting the thermostat. I had a throat chop with their name on it.

If I didn't die of heat exhaustion before it could be delivered.

"Everyone good to go? Got an idea of what I'm looking for?" Professor Higgins said, leaning on one foot as his dark eyes scanned the packed hall. "Pick a criminal—any criminal—and start compiling a list of the ways in which their behavior was or is impacted by psychology."

"We got it, Higg," some guy with a high fade and pointy nose called from the middle of the room.

Higgins placed a hand on his desk and said, "Good. I try to keep things simple. Bring in what you find next week and we'll do some analysis." He shifted to his side. "And if you have any questions before then, email Reid. He needs to do some more work without getting paid. Otherwise, what's the point in having a TA?"

A breezy laugh swept through the hall. It did nothing to stifle the heat, but I glanced at Reid who sat at his desk, tucked against the front corner of the room. His mouth was cocked into an easy smile at his sudden acknowledgment as he slipped a hand through his dark, unruly-but-in-annoyingly-purposeful-way hair.

He never seemed like a TA to me. More like a guy sitting in detention. He didn't say much and usually spent the two hour lecture hunched over a stack of papers that never seemed to dwindle. He was wearing all black today (his favorite color based on my assessment, one thing we shared in common) and his matching jeans and t-shirt gave me the impression that he was up to no good—or trying to blend in.

But I knew all about Reid.

Reid Reynolds was a bad boy. The term made me cross my eyes. But he was. He wore leather, had muscles that flexed when he shifted in his chair, and was attractive in the way that movies portrayed felons to be: his strong jaw and smoldering eyes were a nice side dish to his general air of "doesn't give a shit." He walked campus with a leisurely swagger, usually with a hand dipped inside his pocket all the while making eye contact with no one. He smelled like pepper and bedsheets, and I knew exactly what everyone else knew about him.

He was a slut.

Well, not by any normal societal definition. That term was reserved for a different population, but the sentiment was the same. Reid slept around. It was widely known; there were dozens of stories floating through campus as proof. However, those stories didn't seem to spear him in the back as though he was wearing a target like me. They more so danced around his silhouette as if someone had lobbed a handful of confetti over him.

It pissed me off.

As I watched Reid scroll through his laptop, the light enhancing the many lines of his chiseled face, heat rushed over my skin. Angry heat. I'd despised him the second I found out who he was—what he was. Why should I suffer name calling and stolen glances while Reid was celebrated when we both, supposedly, were one in the same?

I tapped my fingers along my desk and continued staring at Reid. He'd never known a day of sheer torture in his life, despite what his black ensamble was trying to emanate. He wanted to be a bad boy? I'd show him. I'd really show him. There was no one badder than yours truly.

My plan was simple: use my feminine wiles to seduce said bad boy, make him fall for me, and then have sex with him only to leave him high and dry.

I could think of no better purpose for my first time—the first time that mattered. I was a slut anyway, right?

"You, uh, look a bit like the mugshot of Francis McKann. You know, the serial killer from the 80s? That stare is intense. You're not plotting a murder, are you?"

I glanced to my left. A guy with rich, dark skin was watching me underneath a set of arched brows. Amusement sparked in his ebony eyes as he waited for my retort. He'd be waiting a long time.

Professor Higgens excused the class and, after swiping my belongings off my desk, I shot out of my seat.

"Cool. Nice talk," the guy called as I walked away. "I've got an overprotective mom. She'll know if I go missing in no more than two seconds flat!"

Weaving between students, I zipped down the stairs and rounded the last desk to merge into the stream leaving through the door. When I walked past Reid's desk, I felt the fabric of my plan come together. I had an entire semester with him as my TA. Plenty of time.

I wasn't plotting a murder. I was plotting revenge.

xxx

A/N: Heeeeey! You made it to the end? I'm flattered. I told you, this story is a little different than what I usually write. Some things aren't though: we're still gonna see some character development as Will's past unveils, and, of course, watch her slowly start to open up and develop feelings for someone, because it's me, and I am obsessed with slow burns. Anyway, I've been writing like a maniac over here. HAPPY FIRST DAY OF NANO TO ANYONE PARTICIPATING-- AND TO THOSE READING NANO STORIES. My goal is to have this book finished by early December, so, if all goes as planned, updates will be very quick. Have a great week! Take care <3