by B. T Hoax
And what could make him disappear? As Kenna pondered what type of incident could have possibly triggered such a rage, she suddenly heard the sound of footsteps crunching their way toward her. And within a minute or two, Jon emerged from behind the band of trees that he had escaped into an hour earlier. His eyes were on the ground, and he drooped as he came closer.
At first, Kenna didn’t say anything, but stood quickly despite the aching in her heinie. In honesty, her instincts didn’t know whether she should run towards him with open arms or run from him with frightful speed. Once she could see that he was calm, she opened her mouth and offered a short, “Are you okay?”
The disheveled boy looked up at her with bloodshot eyes. If they had been white with anger before, now they were red with fatigue. “I’ll be fine,” he lied as he reached out and apologetically touched her arm. “Sorry,” he continued. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Kenna shook her head. “No, it’s fine,” she replied. “Do you want to talk? Dare I even ask that question again?”
The Colewell took an exhausted seat on the frozen log and collapsed his head in his hands. “You’ve always been right,” he admitted. “There is something different about me.”
Kenna felt a bulge begin to build in her throat for the umpteenth time since moving to Minnesota. Could he really be admitting that he was a vampire or a paranormal figure of sorts? Was this really it? Was she about to learn all the answers to the questions she’d buried within her when she began dating the boy? She swallowed hard though every hair on her body began to stand on end with anxiety.
Kenna took a slow seat next to him. “What do you mean?” she asked sympathetically, not wanting to sound too interrogative. She could hear him begin to choke up a little and rested her hand on his shoulder.
“Do you know what today is?” Jon choked, still avoiding eye contact with the girl.
She nodded. “The seventh?”
He sniffled a little. “March 7th. The day my dad died ten years ago,” he acknowledged as he lifted his head from his hands to reveal several tears streaming down his chiseled cheeks.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Kenna replied unable to find any other words to address the matter. “I had no idea.”
“Only he wasn’t my real dad,” Jon said turning his eyes to her. “My brothers are only my half-brothers. He was their dad.” Kenna didn’t know how to respond to the statement but felt her sympathetic expression shifting into one of confusion. “My mom was raped,” Jon continued with each word providing more clarity. “I don’t even know who my dad is.”
Once again Kenna had no idea what to say or do. Comforting people had never really been her forte after all. “Did you just find out?” she asked, hoping that talking about the problem might at least relieve some of his stress.
He shook his head. “No,” he said as he looked off in the distance. “I’ve known for a long time, since before she told me several years ago.”
Kenna nodded, “And the guy got away with it?” She realized after asking that it wasn’t an appropriate question, at least not for this moment.
“Yea, my mom let him,” Jon answered with anger returning to his sullen disposition. “She let him.”
“Jon it wasn’t your mom’s fault that she was raped,” Kenna correct quickly.
“That’s not what I’m saying,” he interrupted. “I’m saying that she knows who he is, she just didn’t prosecute him, won’t prosecute him, or even tell me who he is. Apparently he is too powerful, and she wouldn’t want to smear his image.” Jon picked up a small twig and snapped it in half as he spoke. “And my fake dad just let it go too. He at least pretended to love me like the others I guess.”
Kenna felt a few tears begin to well in her eyes. She didn’t know how to tackle such an emotional affair such as this. “Jon, you know your parents love you,” she said as she rubbed his shoulder. “They love you just the same as your brothers.”
“You don’t get it!” he yelled. “You don’t understand what it’s like to grow up feeling like a mistake. This whole world thinks I should have been frickin’ aborted! Do you even know what abortion is?!”
“None of my business?” Kenna said hesitantly, quoting the typical feminist viewpoint.
He laughed sardonically at her answer. “And by that logic, what Hitler was doing to the Jews was nobody’s business. But I suppose business is right. It’s the business of tearing babies apart limb from limb in their mother’s womb. Or poisoning them. Do you know how sick this world is for trying to make something like that okay? But I guess no one wants unwanted children, unwanted children like me…”
Kenna was a little taken aback by his strong opinion but supposed he was kind of right. “I’m sorry,” she sympathized. “But trust me, I know what it’s like to feel unwanted.” His eyes were question enough so she quickly clarified. “That’s why I live with my dad. Down in Florida, it was… bad. My mom got remarried and had a perfect little family, except for me. I was loud, rebellious, and politically incorrect. Honestly, my dad is the only person in my family that likes me. None of my grandparents do, not one. I had a cousin down South who would invite me to parties so that I could get wasted but that’s as close to a friend as I had in my family. Or outside my family for that matter. No one had ever legitimately liked or wanted me.”
“I want you,” he corrected quickly.
She smiled though a tear dripped down her chilled cheek. “I know. Things have been good here… for once in my life. I have you and Britney and my dad. I’m actually happy. I’ve realized that maybe the sucky times have been worth it, that even people like me have a purpose after all.”
He sighed and put his arm around her, then pulled her close. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.”
Kenna shook her head as she smothered it into his cold chest. “You are allowed to have feelings,” she said. “I’m glad you could talk to me.”
He held her for another moment then released her from his grasp. “Actually, you are the only person that I’ve ever told about all this,” he confessed. “Everything is just so different with you,” he explained. “In a good way of course.”
Her eyes smiled. “Same,” she agreed.
“It’s like, you give me these butterflies…but better than butterflies,” he said, pausing to feel his gut. “It’s more like fluffy snow angels.”
Kenna laughed at his metaphor. “So I make you feel pregnant?!”
He laughed now, too. “I guess,” he nodded. “You just keep me on my toes. You make me nervous.”
“It’s just the opposite for me,” Kenna said as she laid her head on his shoulder. “I feel so at ease when I’m with you. Well, when you aren’t being weird anyway.”
He kissed her forehead as they rested there. They both sat silently though they longed to ruin the moment with their sinful lusts. However, neither of them could possibly destroy the innocence and peacefulness that were those moments on that decaying old log just listening to each other breathe and smelling the freshness of the frozen air around them.
It was after these moments that Kenna began to feel doubt rising within her. She was so happy, but something felt so wrong, even after this very personal confession. Something was still missing.
“Why does it hurt to touch me?” she heard herself ask. “I feel like I’m missing something. Am I just disgusting?”
Jon swallowed hard, and she could see that he was choosing his words carefully. “You,” he paused, “are the most perfect person for me that I’ve ever met or could ever imagine. You are beautiful, but that’s even an understatement.”
“Then why don’t you kiss me or hold my hand or anything,” she asked calmly. Kenna wasn’t angry, she was curious and emotional, but not angry.
“I’ve just never been this close to anyone. And I’m not comfortable with all that,” he said. “Like I just told you, I’m just nervous. And that’s embarrassing.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I just feel like I’m hurti
ng you. Like physically hurting you whenever we touch.”
“No,” Jon interrupted. “That’s not the case. I’m just… different about that stuff I guess.”
Kenna was regretting her questions as she observed a look of humiliation come across his face. “Sorry,” she said. “I just like you a lot. And I don’t want to be hurting you.”
“You don’t,” he smiled, finding his confidence returning. “I like you a lot too. That’s another reason that I want to take things slow. We just, I don’t know, connect so intensely on an all these other levels. I don’t want to mess it up by kissing you wrong,” he laughed a little. “I can try to be a little quicker though I guess.”
“No,” Kenna disagreed. “I like slow. Just wanted to double check that we were good with all that.”
He kissed the hair that lay disheveled across her forehead. “We are perfect.”
She smiled and felt all the doubt escape her. “We are.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Family.
Kenna wore a smile as she waited for Jon to pull up in his valiant white steed.
I want you to meet my family, were his words as she recalled the conversation with delight.
Kenna knew how much his family meant to him so she recognized how serious he felt about their relationship when he invited her over for dinner. Although she was undeniably nervous, she couldn’t help but be giddy at the thought of being with him in his home.
Up until now, all of their dates had been out, out at the park, out at a restaurant, out at a movie, out on a drive. They’d managed to build very strong feelings for each other without ever setting foot in the other’s place of residence. As a result, Kenna knew that such a dinner would be a step towards taking their relationship to a new level, a level that she was excited to enter.
And that wasn’t the only clue to the seriousness of their relationship. Jon had called her every night since their emotional and revealing hike a few weeks ago. They had talked more, seen each other more, and now she was meeting his family.
Her excitement had caused her to get ready all too soon as Jon probably wouldn’t arrive for several more minutes.
“Waiting for that boyfriend of yours, huh?” her father asked as he entered the porch.
“You know it,” she acknowledged though her eyes never ceased in their looking out the clear window.
Her father chuckled a little his daughter’s intensity. “So when do I get to meet this guy of yours? You seem to like him quite a bit, but I haven’t even seen him!”
“Oh dad,” Kenna smiled, turning to face the man. “It’ll be soon. I told you that I’m meeting his family today so he’ll probably come over next week.”
“I see,” he replied, growing a little concerned at her enthusiasm. “So things are pretty serious?”
“I think so,” she nodded. “Dad, I really like him. He’s a good guy.” Kenna could see his worry and tried to sooth him. “But we’ve only kissed like once so you don’t have to worry about sex and stuff. He’s all about waiting.”
Kenna watched as the stern look on his face transformed into a beam of lightness. “Perfect. So I can skip the whole sex talk thing then?” he asked with another chuckle.
Kenna burst out with laughter at hearing her dad even say the word ‘sex’. “Yes, it’s all good! Awkward conversation avoided!”
He joined in the laughter, but her father suddenly began to tear up with unanticipated emotion. “I haven’t seen you this happy in years,” he confessed as he wiped a tear away from his stubbly face.
Kenna stopped in her giggles and got up to give her father a hug. “I know. I’m so glad that I moved up here with you,” she said as her father gave her a squeeze.
“Looks like the mystery man has arrived,” he observed as Jon’s truck came to a stop across the street. “Are you sure you don’t want to invite him in?” he asked as he opened his arms to release her from the embrace.
“Next time, dad,” she promised as she made her way out the front door.
“Okay, have fun then!” he called as he watched her race to the crippled vehicle.
The girl buckled up quickly, and in five short minutes, they’d arrived at the Colewell house.
His house was exactly as she remembered it, surrounded by feet of trampled snow and large, eerie trees. Despite the creepiness, Kenna was looking forward to finally stepping into the rambler and enjoying dinner with Jon’s family.
“You sure you are ready for this?” he asked as he unbuckled his belt.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Kenna exclaimed as she too unbuckled and the couple left the truck and entered the house.
Kenna immediately felt a chill shoot down her spine. It had been almost forty degrees out that day, and the inside of the Colewell house couldn’t have been much warmer.
“Did your heat go out?” Kenna questioned as they entered the front door.
Jon guided her to a couch where they took a seat. “No. It’s nice out. No need for heat with this weather. We should really be running the A/C,” he joked as he rested a hand on her knee.
Before he could lean in and kiss the girl, Mrs. Colewell entered the room. She was also exactly as Kenna had remembered her. Her frown looked untouched and unwavering, her hair even sat in the same style braid as it previously had. “Everyone is waiting at the table,” she snapped at the pair. Jon instantly removed his hand from Kenna’s leg and shot up to a stand. Kenna hadn’t noticed it on her previous encounter with Mrs. Colewell, but the woman had just the slightest accent.
“We’re coming then,” he said as he took Kenna’s hand to help his date to a stand.
“I think she can get up on her own,” commented the woman whose glower remained straighter than a wooden pencil.
Jon rolled his eyes as Kenna felt a rather nervous knot begin to tie up her insides. If she’d been intimidated by Mrs. Colewell before, now she was downright horrified of her.
Nevertheless, she followed the woman as they came to a large dining room where the three other Colewells sat waiting. The room didn’t smell, nor seem to breathe any form of life. As Kenna observed the table she noticed that only cold food was being served. Lettuce salad with ranch and shredded cheese, some kind of cold macaroni salad, apple slices, and several other foods that didn’t exactly make her top ten list.
But Kenna did her best to embrace the cold lifestyle, though she clung tightly to her jacket as she took a seat next to Jon and across from his overbearing mother.
Tension and silence filled the room as the foods were passed around the table. Kenna only took small portions of each item, doing her best not to seem rude or immature. As she glanced around, the only noises she heard were the slight clinks and clanks of silverware on the plates and cups being filled with ice water or juices.
It was far different than what she was expecting. Kenna supposed that being with a larger family would mean more laughter and life and warmth, like Britney’s house. The Colewell’s was the exact opposite. Quiet. Depressing. And cold.
“Well they don’t call me break-the-ice Bryce for nothing,” Bryce joked to destroy the awkward silence that enclosed the family.
“No one calls you that, bro,” Jon jeered as he passed around the salad bowl.
Despite their attempt at humor, the conversation at the table was minimal, mostly consisting of Bryce’s and Jon’s typical bantering. This was to Kenna’s great displeasure. She had really been looking forward to the dinner and hopefully making a good impression on Mrs. Colewell. Realizing that time might soon be slipping away from her, the girl decided that she’d be the one to start the day’s discussions.
“So what do you do, Mrs. Colewell? Jon says you all work in a family business,” Kenna asked with a quiet innocence that she didn’t know she possessed.
The woman sneered at the question. “Oh, is that what Jon tells you?” She then proceeded to shoot the boy one of her terrifying glowers. “It’s a private business actually. And most of what I do is strictly confidential
. And what do you do Ms. Rosen?”
Kenna was a little taken aback by the question and by being addressed as Ms. Rosen. “Oh, I’m just a junior right now. I probably won’t find a job until this summer.”
“A junior in college? And which school do you attend?” she shot back immediately.
“Oh,” Kenna was becoming a little uncomfortable. She gave Jon a rather panicked look as she continued, “I’m actually in high school yet.”
“Oh,” the woman acknowledged. “So you aren’t even eighteen then, are you? And if you were it would be that you were too unintelligent to pass every grade as planned?” The Colewell woman seemed to ridicule the girl as she spoke, clearly interested in her flaws instead of her interests.
“I’m seventeen, and actually, I’m quite intelligent, thank you,” Kenna replied, finding that she was beginning to dislike Mrs. Colewell as much as Mrs. Colewell disliked her.
“It’s true,” Bryce chimed in with his perfectly timed levity. “I’m always copying her papers!”
“Oh so you encourage my son to cheat then?” she snapped, her eyes never leaving Kenna.
“No,” Kenna defended. “Bryce is obviously the instigator.”
“It’s true,” he nodded with a friendly smile. “I’m from instigation nation actually.”
Everyone was quiet for another moment. Well, everyone except Bryce, who was finding his joke to be quite humorous. Kenna had looked down at the untouched food upon her plate. She was used to paper plates and plastic forks, or at least, that’s what she preferred. But now she stared down at the white, probably ceramic white plate. As nice and fancy as it was, it made her feel even more uncomfortable. With her uneasiness only growing at the sight, she looked up again only to find Jon and his mother facing off in a death stare.
And the winner is…, she announced in her head as she observed the showdown.