ICE (The Benders Series) (13 page)

CHAPTER TEN

Discrete.

What does that word mean again?
Kenna asked herself as she tossed off her covers.

The weekend had come quickly, and she hadn’t managed to dupe her father in the slightest.

“Oh Dad, can you light this candle? I can’t find any matches,”
she had tried.

“
Can’t light something without matches, Kenna,”
he had replied with a nonchalant chuckle.

“
Oh Dad, you are kinda warm. Are you feeling okay? Nothing abnormal going on?”
she’d interrogated one evening.

“Nope, you just must be colder I guess,”
he had brushed off her concerns like they were nothing.

“Oh Dad, did I tell you how much I like the winter? Don’t you love the cold? We should move even further north,”
she had suggested.

“My business is here, Kenna. And I’m not a huge fan, no, but it’s tolerable,”
he had admitted, once again spurring her advances.

Kenna didn’t know what else to do but was finding that being discreet was not a plausible option. Turning over and rolling out of bed, the girl made her way to the bathroom to give herself a quick fix. A braid would do it as she hardly had the patience to shower on a weekend.

With hair and make-up in place, she slumped her way downstairs and into the kitchen where her father sat reading the morning paper.

“What can I make you for breakfast this morning?” he asked upon her arrival.

“Nothing,” she sighed. “I’m not hungry this morning.”

The man immediately put down the paper and gave her a stare. “What’s the matter? Not that boy again? Kenna, I told you if he breaks your heart once, he’ll feel no remorse doing it again,” he warned with a stern glare.

“No,” Kenna defended immediately with a shake of her head. “It has nothing to do with Jon. Jon and I are good.”

He nodded slowly, “Well then what is the problem?”

Kenna was beginning to feel the barrier between her mind and mouth beginning to fail her. Without a word, she went to the sink and filled a glass with cold water, very cold water. Hastily, she slammed the glass down in front of the man. “Drink it,” she demanded as she crossed her arms.

“Kenna, what has gotten into you?” he fired back as he took a stand. “You haven’t been yourself these last few days. I know it’s that Jon kid and I’m about to forbid you from-.”

“No, it’s you, Dad!” she shouted back at him. “You can’t drink the water, can you?!”

The man looked perplexed by his daughter’s freak rage. “Yes, I can. But I’m not going to until you tell me what your deal is,” he said calmly while giving her an intense stare.

Kenna swallowed hard and let the anxiety in her gut form words. “I know everything,” she confessed.

Her father’s expression didn’t change. “You’ll have to be more specific,” he offered in a confused tone.

“I know you’re a flame bender, Dad. And I know you’ve been hiding that from me for forever!” Kenna yelled, her face turning red with anger and voice being choked by the feelings of betrayal.

He didn’t say anything to her at first, just continued to stare at her intensely, perhaps hoping she might boast about it all being a joke of some sort. Moving his glance away from her, he took a loud and deep breath. “How did you find out?” he mumbled, his head now hanging in shame and anger.

“What’s it matter?” she asked without remorse. “You’re a liar.”

“Kenna!” her father hollered, finally snapping. “Who told you?! Your mother?! My brother?! Who?!” he howled as he stepped into his daughter’s space and began to tower threateningly over her.

The girl could not recall ever seeing her father in such a way, so emotional, so hot-tempered. She took a step away from him and continued to glare. “Why does it matter? Why have you been keeping that from me?” she demanded back at the fuming man.

He took a breath. The muscles in his back had formed tightly coiled knots, and every vein was popping from his reddening face. His neck began to relax first, then the fists at his sides unclenched into open palms. “Did you think that maybe I had a good reason for that?” he questioned through a tight jaw, but with a calming voice. “Who told you?” he asked again.

Kenna didn’t know if she should hide the truth from him but figured she’d be a hypocrite for doing so.

“Jon,” she admitted. “Jon told me. Why didn’t you?”

Her father suddenly took on a countenance of confusion and his anger hurriedly died and formed a figure of concern. “Jon?” he clarified. “What would he know about any of that?”

“He’s a bender, too, Dad. And he says I’m a moiety. Is all that true?” She had calmed as well, her inquisitiveness becoming more intellectual and less ferocious.

The man sighed and plopped down in the dining chair behind him. “Yes. But I never wanted you to know, Kenna. Bending is a burden. And the life of a bender is not a fun one,” he said as he pulled out a chair, indicating that she should sit as well.

“You still should have told me,” she disagreed, her arms remaining folded as she took a willing sit.

“Maybe,” he nodded. “But I gave up that life. I didn’t want it for you, Kenna. The moment that I knew that you couldn’t bend, I decided to give it all up,” he explained. “And it was selfish for Jon to have told you… what type is he anyway?”

Kenna took a long stare into the man’s eyes to search for any malicious intent but found none. “He doesn’t want me to tell you about him. He says the two of you wouldn’t get along,” she replied.

Her father’s face began to change color again, and he took a quick punch at the table. “ICE?!” he interrogated. “Kenna, you are involved with an ice bender?! What’s his last name?!”

“He prefers the term elementalist,” Kenna said with a raise of her eyebrows. “Why does that upset you? And why is his name any concern of yours?”

He growled at her question. “Do ice and flame create a peaceful coexistence, Kenna? No. One always destroys the other,” he responded though he was finding more control over his anger. “What’s his name?!”

“Jon Colewell,” she answered calmly and matter-of-factly.

“A Colewell?! You are dating a Colewell? Just tell me not the third son!”

Kenna became quickly suspicious. “Yes, he is the third of four sons. But why would you know that? Is there something else you still aren’t telling me?”

The man growled again in anger. “No. It’s nothing. But I need to meet him,” he demanded quickly. “Today. Bring him for supper.”

“Why? So you can scare him off?” she argued quickly. “Dad…I really like him…”

“He broke up with you a week ago, and you said you hated him,” he contended. “I don’t know if I want you to see him anymore. Not until I meet him.”

At this, Kenna’s eyebrows drooped, and her eyes began to glisten with tears. “I never said I hated him, and he broke things off because he found out about you, Dad. He thought I was some kind of villain. But you know what? Despite all that, he decided that he did trust me and feel strongly enough for me to tell me the truth! Something my own father couldn’t do!” Several tears began a steady stream down her face as Kenna felt an uncanny combination of anger and hurt.

“I didn’t tell you because I love you, Kenna! I need you to understand that,” he pleaded, the man feeling his own combination of rage and guilt.

“Well I need you to understand that I am going to be with Jon and that I need an apology!” the daughter shot back without mercy as she stood to remove herself from the discussion.

Firmly but gently, her father grabbed her arm as she walked by. Kenna stopped in the march away from him but looked away as the feeling of betrayal once again emerged.

“I’m sorry,” he said under his breath. “But I do need to meet him before you two are alone together again.”

The girl glared into the distance at his words and flinched her arm away from his grasp. Without another word, she tramped hurriedly out of the kitchen and up to the safety of her bedroom where the steady stream of tears turned into an indefinite cascade of cries. For several hours, she remained in her bed, her emotions causing her mental capacity to remain temporarily obliterated. But as time passed, Kenna began once again in thought, her problem-solving skills making their way back into clear focus.

She sniffled and reached into her pocket to retrieve her cell phone. Soon she’d dialed Bryce’s number and managed to reach Jon, who was immediately confused by Kenna’s words.

“Jon, I told him,” she confessed, her voice still breaking after the bout of crying that had just taken place.

“Kenna…” his voice was questioning and threatening.

“I’m sorry,” Kenna apologized. “But he was never going to tell me. He says he wants to meet you.” For a few moments, she heard nothing on the other line. It was a silence that if cut by a knife would surely explode into blasting sound. “Jon?” she asked hesitantly, waiting for his anger to erupt.

“Do you realize what danger you have put me and my entire family in?!”

The girl knew she’d made a huge mistake in his eyes and that she’d altogether gone against his wishes by enlightening her father. “Jon, he’s doesn’t bend anymore. He said he gave up all that a long time ago. He’s not going to do anything,” Kenna explained though she wondered if Jon could even hear her through his heavy, angry breathing.

There was another pause indicating that he had indeed heard her. His breathing had steadied before he spoke again. “Are you sure?” he asked. “You realize that if you are wrong that I could be walking into a dinner of death?”

Kenna sighed. “I’m sure. My dad won’t touch you,” she confirmed. “He loves me enough to invite an ice bender over for dinner.”

She waited again in silence for a response. It was obvious to her that Jon needed a moment to contemplate such an idea as to dine with a flame bender. “Fine,” he finally said. “I’ll be there at six. And if I suspect anything fishy, don’t think I won’t call my mother. She’d bend the bend right out of your dad.”

Kenna couldn’t help but laugh a little. It was amazing how he could accidentally bring a smile to her face. “Okay, I’ll tell him six. I’ll make food and everything. It’ll be great.” She wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him of that or just herself.

“If you say so,” he said with a sigh.

And with Jon conceding to have such a supper and after bidding a brief farewell, Kenna raced down the stairs to share the news with her father. Though he was just as unenthusiastic as Jon had been, Kenna couldn’t help but to feel hopeful, that surely they would both be willing to set aside their differences to make her happy.

Kenna, however, quickly discovered that such hope was foolish and that as far as them getting along went, she couldn’t have been more wrong.

And I thought the dinner at his place had started off awkward
, Kenna thought to herself as she noticed the two making constant, but hidden observances of each other once Jon arrived and they’d all taken a seat at the kitchen table.

Kenna had been careful in preparing the meal for the awkward pair. She’d made a course of lasagna and garlic bread along with a salad to the side. Being as Jon would only eat colder foods, she’d thoughtfully cooked the lasagna an hour in advance so that she could refrigerate some of it to serve cold. And to drink, ice water for the Colewell and room-temperature juice for her father.

“So am I a chef or what?” Kenna boasted in hopes to get a conversation started.

“I didn’t even know you knew how to cook,” her dad admitted. “I’ll have to quit babying you so much and let you make dinner more often.”

She smiled at the comment. “Nah, you can keep babying me,” she disagreed with a silly smirk.

“Perfect, I’ll have you locked in a playpen in no time!” he replied with an obviously fake chuckle.

Jon, on the other hand, was quite unamused with the idea. “I suppose that would be a good way to keep her away from me, huh?” he asked casually, finding himself suddenly offended.

Kenna gave the boy a stern glare, but he hadn’t bothered to look up from his plate to observe it. Kenna knew the moment he arrived that Jon was in a bad mood and altogether uncomfortable with the situation.

“And why would I need to do that?” her father asked, the question arrogant and provocative. “You aren’t trouble, are you?”

This time, Jon did look up, and the pair of men made lethal eye contact. Neither one of them was willing to break the stare, positive that doing so would be hailing the other some sort of victor.

Kenna cleared her throat, but neither batted an eye at the signal. “You know guys,” she began, “if looks could kill, I’d be eating by myself.” Somewhere, deep down, she thought her humor might make another save, but it didn’t. And not to her surprise. “Seriously,” she shouted angrily this time, lifting her glass, then slamming in back down on the table, “lighten up, you two!”

Jon was the first to revert his gaze. He turned to his date and remarked, “I’m sure your father is very good with light… destructive and flaming light.”

“I’d rather be hot with life than cold as death!” her father interrupted with a laugh, a cocky and challenging laugh, one that Kenna thought should have been coming from Jon instead of him.