ICE (The Benders Series)

by B. T Hoax

  When she first came down that morning, she knew it was the right time to act.

  “We’re out of eggs,” she noted out loud as her dad sat at the breakfast table.

  “Can I make you waffles?” he suggested.

  “Well, I was in the mood for eggs,” she said as she walked over to the kitchen counter where the bread normally sat. “And I guess no toast either,” Kenna added with irritation.

  The man sighed, “I suppose I will need to head to the store this afternoon.” Kenna smiled internally, pleased that her plan was working. “But you’ll have to come with me. I can’t leave you here alone just yet.”

  Her internal smile quickly faded into a scowl. “Dad, I don’t want to go out in public like this,” she pleaded. “I’m not ready.”

  “Then we can wait til you are ready, and we can eat whatever is lying around,” he retorted quickly.

  Kenna shook her head. She needed another excuse. “No, Dad. I need some… feminine stuff… I’m all out… and chocolate, lots of chocolate.”

  “You have your period?” her father asked nonchalantly. The question, of course, resulted in Kenna giving him quite an impressive glare.

  “No, I need tampons for a school project, Dad. Not because I have my period,” she replied sarcastically.

  She could see that he was also trying to think of a way out of the situation. “I could go to the gas station,” he suggested.

  “Dad!” she hollered. “I need the good brand. Do you know what kind of chaffing I’ll have if I use the gas station crap!” She could see that he was growing increasingly uncomfortable. The observation caused her to add, “Dad, I need tampons, badly, okay? I’m going to FREAKIN bleed everywhere if I don’t get some soon. I only have two left!”

  The man seemed convinced as he let out yet another sigh. “Fine. But I’m taking your keys with me,” he shot back. And I’ll be back in an hour. Don’t even think about trying to get out to see that Colewell kid.”

  Kenna folded her arms across her chest. “Just get me the tampons please. I don’t care if you take the stupid keys.” It was difficult for her to maintain the charade. Honestly, she had no idea how she would reach the Colewell with no phone and no car.

  He gave a stern nod, finished his coffee, and headed out shortly after her statement, leaving Kenna about one hour to make her move.

  Yet, the girl simply stood there, contemplating how she could possibly reach Jon with no phone and no vehicle. As she stood there, paralyzed with thought, an idea struck her. Last time that she didn’t have a phone, she was able to borrow Britney’s. Although her friend was at school, there was a chance that her old, decrepit Buick was sitting in the parking lot…with the keys inside.

  Yes, Bertha was her only shot at reaching the Colewell.

  With her plan devised, Kenna shot through the front door and began a very urgent-paced walk towards the school. In a matter of minutes, she’d reached the parking lot, and to her luck, there sat her friend’s vehicle!

  “Sorry about this, Britney,” she whispered to herself, “but I’ll have Bertha back before you knew she was gone.”

  Kenna then lunged into the vehicle and seized the keys that were sitting on the armrest. Knowing that she had no time to second guess her thievery, she started the engine and pulled swiftly away.

  “I’ll be back in half an hour,” Kenna reminded herself. “No one will know.”

  Racing the clock, the girl sped her way to the Colewell residence, a place that she knew might be even less inviting than ever before.

  Breathing fast, she closed the door of the Buick and sprinted towards the front door, but it flung open as she approached the front stairs.

  “What are you doing here?” Mrs. Colewell asked with a sneer, her arms folded and her glare as hostile as could be imagined. “Don’t you think enough damage has been done?”

  Kenna swallowed hard. It was difficult for her to hear such a statement. The girl hadn’t thought much about what she would say to Jon or his family. She had no excuses and was filled with an intense shame. “Maybe,” she choked back. “I just… I need to know if everyone is okay…”

  “Everyone? You mean including Bryce who you practically left for dead?” she shot back with a snap of her fingers.

  Kenna could feel her eyes beginning to tear. “Yes,” she answered honestly, the fact just as difficult to admit out loud as it was to internally bare. “Just five minutes? Then I’ll go. I swear.”

  The woman gave her a skeptical look, and Kenna knew Mrs. Colewell had no intention of letting her into the house.

  “Let her in, Mom.” It was Bryce’s voice. Somehow he was always there at just the right time.

  The woman turned and frowned, but when she flipped back around to Kenna, she proceeded to step aside and indicate that Kenna could go in. When the girl first walked through the doors, she saw a badly beaten but smiling Bryce. A hand shot immediately over her open mouth as she looked in shock.

  Both of his once joyous blue eyes had been punched and sunken in. Dark purple, splotched bruising surrounded both of the orbs and faded into dark yellow coloring. The bridge of his nose was even yellow, indicating that the bruising had at one point spread there as well.

  His bottom lip had been severed directly down the center. And apparently no amount of healing water power had been able to rejoin the split. There appeared to be three faded scratch marks on his lower left cheek, and the opposite side of his jaw appeared swollen making his face appear somewhat lopsided.

  And that was just what she could see. She hated to think what could have been hiding underneath his clothes.

  Yet, Bryce wore a smile, a large friendly smile.

  Seeing her horrified expression, he added, “Doesn’t even hurt.” He proceeded to approach Kenna and give her a light hug. “I’ll be fine. Are you hanging in there?”

  Kenna couldn’t believe how kind and selfless he was being. It made her feel even more guilty as tears rushed to her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Bryce,” she said in a half-whisper as her hand once again covered her mouth.

  He shook his head. “I’m fine. Glad to see you are okay. Jon is in the living room on the couch.” Kenna nodded, but as she began to walk towards the other room, Bryce added, “He’s in tough shape. Just a heads up.”

  She stopped in her tracks. Tough shape? She thought. If Bryce was ‘fine’ she couldn’t imagine what was meant by tough shape. Somehow, she swallowed the fear and gained enough courage to press onward. But once she stepped into the room, she almost wished she hadn’t.

  Sprawled out on the couch was a very severely burned Jon. He wore nothing but a loose fitting pair of athletic shorts while most of the rest of his skin lay exposed to the cool air and some healing ice pieces that lay on top of him. His eyes were closed, and he hadn’t heard the girl walk in.

  Kenna felt more tears escape her as she gazed upon him. Most of his limbs and parts of the right side of his chest were covered in dark red and even some black burns. She could see where parts of his skin had blistered and peeled, and other parts were his skin oozed from the scalds. Even a small portion of his left check was blistered and peeling.

  Before she could say anything, Mrs. Colewell came in from behind her. “He should rest,” she ordered as she looked down at Kenna with an unsympathetic glare.

  But as the woman spoke, Jon’s eyelids began to flutter, and two glowing blue orbs appeared from behind them.

  Both females were silent as he woke, making Jon the first in the room to speak again.

  “Kenna?” His voice was tired and confused. But upon realizing that it was indeed the beautiful blond that stood across the room from him, he repeated her name. “Kenna!”

  He attempted to sit in his surprise to see her. However, the instinct caused him such pain that he let out an unintentional yell.

  “Jon!” his mother scolded. “You are in no condition to move!” She ran to him and replaced some of the thin, clear, healing ice that had fallen upon his movement. The woman t
hat twisted back around and pointed a hostile finger in Kenna’s face. “You need to leave! You have done enough!”

  “Mom!” Jon screamed back at her. “I need to see her!”

  Mrs. Colewell turned back to her son. “You need nothing but rest and hydration! Don’t you think that there has been enough damage done by this futile relationship that you-“

  “Then let things end on our own terms! Not yours!” he hollered back.

  The woman breathed loudly, but her anger began to subside as her son’s words registered. “Fine,” she agreed. “You have five minutes,” she warned as she turned to Kenna and marched out of the room.

  “End?” Kenna repeated softly as she began to cry. Through the waterworks, she could see the hurt and the pain written on Jon’s face.

  He coughed a little and tears began to trickle from his tired blue eyes.

  “Kenna, I love you,” he said. He was looking at the ceiling, unable to bear the agony of facing her. “But I can’t hurt you again. I could have killed you.” His words were whispers of guilt and regret.

  “Jon, it was my fault,” Kenna interrupted quickly. “You told me to stop.”

  He shook his head just slightly in disagreement. “How bad is it?” He looked at her to see a confused expression. “How bad did I hurt you? Did I rape you?” He choked on the words as they came out. “Kenna, how am I supposed to live with myself?”

  Her weeping was soft. “You didn’t rape me. I just…”

  “But I could have Kenna. If I didn’t, then I was going to. If Bryce hadn’t shown up…”

  They were both quiet, pondering what the consequences might have been if Bryce hadn’t come.

  “What happened?” Kenna heard herself ask. “I thought Bryce couldn’t beat you.”

  Tears still ran silently down Jon’s face as his eyes turned back up to the ceiling. “I don’t remember it clearly. It was a different kind of rage. Honestly, I think he accidentally hit me in the crotch, and it was enough to knock the wind out of me. Then Bryce ran. And I just, threw things, hit things. By the time my mother found me, I had overheated and was on the floor writhing in pain.” He paused. “But sitting here listening to you cry is worse. Kenna, I have to let you go.”

  She cried a little harder. “But I love you too.”

  Now he was crying audibly, and his whole body was trembling. But he quickly caught his breath, unable to tolerate the physical pain that crying brought him. “I have to let you go, Kenna. I’m leaving next week. I’m going to get better. I’m going to learn control. Then I’ll come back. Then maybe we can be together. But I don’t know what’s going to happen. And you can’t wait for me.”

  “You’re leaving? What do you mean?” she sputtered as she began to curl herself into a self-hug. She felt so alone, so at fault, so sad.

  “There’s a special place for ice elemantalists, where they learn to better understand and use their power. My mom thought she could teach us on her own, but I’m too out of control, Kenna,” he explained. “I have to learn control.”

  Kenna’s crying had become louder as he spoke, the thought of his leaving causing her a new form of heartbreak. “It’s all my fault,” she managed to say. “Jon, I don’t want you to go.”

  “I don’t have a choice,” he whispered, his heart also breaking with every word that passed through his lips. “But you do, Kenna. You can be happy. It’s like what your dad was telling me.”

  His words had trailed off at the end of his statement so Kenna hadn’t heard what he said. “What?” she asked. “It’s like what?”

  “Nothing,” he said quickly. “It’s like a bird. I have to let you go. And if it’s meant to be, we’ll be together again in the future…when I’m better…when I can be good for you…when I have control.”

  “But you are good for me. You actually get me,” she argued as she fought the unsteady stream of tears.

  He was starting to cry audibly again. “Kenna, please,” Jon begged. “I love you. This is already hard.”

  She knew what he meant, that breaking her heart was hard enough without her quarreling or crying. As much as she hated everything at the moment, the least she could do was make it easier on him.

  Kenna loved him. And she knew it now as she stood there in silent tears.

  “I’ll go,” she finally said. “I hope you learn what you need to. And I hope to see you again.” Her words were soft and filled with hurt and understanding. “You need to rest now.”

  She turned quickly to leave, not wanting to linger in the sight of his burned body, not wanting to remain in the room that was so filled with heartbreak. “Kenna,” she heard him call as she marched away. Despite his call, Kenna remained firm in her decision to leave and give him the peace that he needed.

  She knew he loved her. She didn’t need to make things more painful for him than they had to be. She could bite the bullet this time.

  With that in mind, Kenna made her way to the waiting car. She slumped inside as the waterworks continued on their silent rampage down her pale face. She once again started the engine and sped back into town.

  She returned the Buick, hid the keys, and jogged home to where her father had yet to return from shopping.

  Once there, she buried herself in her bedroom upstairs.

  It was like the last hour had never happened. It was like she hadn’t just said goodbye to the only boy she’d every professed love for. It wasn’t like she’d just had her heart re-shattered. It wasn’t like all the happiness had just been ripped from her soul.

  No. She knew that it had to be like the last hour had never happened. Like she’d never said good-bye.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Heartbreak.

  Kenna remembered the feeling from the day her parents told her they were splitting. Even though she was only ten at the time, she remembered it like it was yesterday.

  “Kenna,” her mother called from the dining room. It was a Saturday. It was raining outside.

  The blond dropped what she was doing and followed her mother’s calling. When she got into the dining room, both her parents were sitting at the table. She was immediately suspicious.

  “Am I in trouble?” she asked as she walked to the chair that her mother pulled out.

  “No, baby, of course you aren’t in trouble,” her mother replied as ran her fingers through her daughter’s hair. “Your dad and I just need to talk to you about some things that are happening.”

  At that point, Kenna turned to her father. The man had bags under both of his brown eyes, and the happy twinkle that once accompanied them had all but vanished. His face was red. He seemed tired. He seemed upset. When he looked back at the girl, he couldn’t help but turn away with immediate guilt.

  She turned back to her mother. Her blond hair hung straight and pristine on her perfectly postured shoulders. Beside them were gold hoop earrings that her father’s money had bought her. Her blue eyes were as placid as ever.

  “What do you mean, things that are happening?” Kenna asked quickly.

  She watched as her parents turned to each other and made brief eye contact. After the meeting of their eyes, her mother took a deep breath and looked at the girl once more. Her father, however, was looking off into the corner.

  “Well, your father and I have decided that it’s best for everyone if we separate,” she explained, her voice even and calm.

  “What do you mean separate?” the girl shot immediately. She, of course, knew the meaning of the word, but couldn’t wrap her head around what it could mean in terms of their family.

  Her mother reached for the girl’s hair again, but Kenna moved away from her hand and practically jumped out of her chair.

  “Honey,” the woman said, “your father and I are getting a divorce.”

  “Divorce?” she gasped. She could feel her heart begin to race, and tears begin to form in her eyes. Kenna turned to her father again, but he was still avoiding the girl. “Dad?” she asked, hoping he would deny what her mother was saying,
hoping that none of it was true and all some sick, cruel joke.

  “It’ll be okay, Kenna,” he choked as he got out of his chair and came to hug her.

  At this move, Kenna darted from the room as fast as she could. She sprinted up the stairs of their modest Florida home and threw herself onto her bed, just as she had so many times before then.

  Divorce? Why?

  Sure, her parents got into their fair share of arguments. Sure, her father worked on the road and wasn’t around as much as he should have been. Sure, life wasn’t perfect. But she didn’t see how tearing their family into separate pieces could possibly make things better.

  As Kenna searched for an answer, she couldn’t help but to somehow feel suddenly at fault. She was rowdy, even as a preteen. Maybe if she’d just listened better or done better at school or martial arts or something then maybe her parents would have gotten along better. She quickly examined all of her flaws and tried to find out which one could have been the straw that broke the camel’s back.

  It wasn’t until months later that she met Ryan.

  Then things made more sense.

  Her mother was a dirty cheater, a dirty, rotten, unfaithful witch.

  And that was the story Kenna had convinced herself of for the last many years. She was never good at math, but to her, Ryan was the ‘x’ variable that made everything add up.

  And since then, her relationship with her mother had never been the same. Her mother started working more. Kenna felt herself becoming more and more spiteful. Though she originally got into trouble to get revenge on the woman, eventually she just got used to it. Eventually, she didn’t know why she drank or felt relief from being totally intoxicated.

  But things had been better. Minnesota had been so different. And yet, she sat there on the porch enduring the same pains she’d felt so long ago.

  She ran her fingers against one of the fogged-up windows as she sat on the lowly porch sofa. Normally she would have drawn a heart or written Jon’s name. Now she didn’t know what to draw. Angered by being stumped by the window, she placed both palms on the glass and wiped it completely clean of its fog.