Witch (Supernatural #2)

Bonus chapter (K E N P O V)

Hi, my dear readers!

I don't usually do author notes in my chapters but this is an exception.

So, I have a few ideas for short stories for the characters in my books. The first one might come out around Halloween but I'm not sure yet. Anyway, that will be a separate book. It will just be short scenes of their lives, the same as if the scene was in the book itself.

This chapter is slightly different.

This is in Ken's POV, and fairly short. It takes place during chapter two. Remember, Isla and Ken just met, Ken invited her to lunch and Joyce uninvited her so Isla ended up having lunch with Tate and Sawyer. This scene takes place after school once Ken gets home.

I hope you like it. I planned more scenes like these when I was writing the story but none of them ever got written so enjoy this rare treat.

***

The house was fairly silent when I walked in. There was the soft hum of music coming from the kitchen - Mom liked to listen to music while she made dinner. The rhythmic ticking of fingers on a keyboard as Dad finished up whatever email he was writing. Nice and calm, the way shifters with enhanced hearing liked their house. Though, honestly, it was a surprise that they were home this early in the day.

Then I threw the door shut because I wasn't feeling either nice or calm.

I wasn't sure what I was feeling, just not those two.

Continuing with the not-so-nice-and-calm entrance, I stomped up the stairs. I dropped my bag onto the floor and dropped myself onto my bed. Once I lay there and had a moment to stare at the wall, I realized my mistake. Coming in with a ruckus meant one of my parents would come to see what was wrong before too long. And, sure enough, five minutes later feet were climbing the stairs. Mom appeared in the doorway. Dad was now whistling in the kitchen - he had probably been giving command of the kitchen with a stern warning not to mess it up. Mom wasn't a Michelin star chef, but what she made was usually good - with the exception of what she experimented. Dad's cooking, on the other hand, wasn't something I didn't wish on my worst enemy if I had one.

Mom sat down on my desk chair and sighed. "Was it Joyce again?" she asked.

Since Joyce and I had broken up, I had come home quite a few times exasperated at something she had done. Or tried. The girl had a hard time believing we were truly over. When I told her we were just too different, she thought I had meant something else. What, I didn't know. But she had taken it upon her to try and get me back. Honestly, if I wasn't her pray, I would have been impressed by her determination. Today was only one of the many stunts she had pulled.

I let out a sigh of my own. "Yes. And no." Mom arched an eyebrow. Too late to back out now; she wanted an explanation. "There is a new girl at school. She joined the swim team because, let's face it, with her times, Coach Evers would have been stupid to pass up the opportunity. Anyway, I decided to be nice and invite her to lunch."

"Let me guess," Mom interrupted, catching on. "Joyce scared her off?"

I groaned and closed my eyes, reliving the events. Joyce had been rude, and not just a little. "First she slams into Isla - that's the new girl - and pretends its an accident. Then she tells her to get lost."

"Hmm. And this girl, Isla; was she okay with that?"

"Well, not really. She looked like she was about to explode. Tate swooped in then to make sure she didn't though; he asked her to join him and Sawyer for lunch instead. So she went. Then Joyce basically threw herself at Noah, though I'm not sure who that show was for."

"Okay, honey, I know you think you are explaining the situation to me, but you really aren't." She spoke in that motherly kind of way of her; she wasn't trying to offend me per se, but she was trying to get a point across. "Now, tell me this; why did Tate swoop in? Who is Noah? And who do you think that show was for?" The last question was asked in a bit of a duh-tone, which I ignored.

"Isla's a witch and was about to lose her temper. So Tate came over and made sure it didn't happen. Kinda makes you wonder if she has a short fuse, doesn't it? Anyway, Noah is Isla's brother. They're twins apparently, but aside from their coloring, I don't really see it. And it's because he is her brother that I'm not sure whether Joyce was trying to make me jealous, or trying to get under Isla's skin."

There. It was all out for Mom to make her professional opinion on the matter. I say professional because, let's face it, a mother's opinion was as good as that of a professional. I waited, enjoying the soft bed underneath me, for her to speak up again. Joyce really was a handful. She had been when we had been together but now that we had broken up the girl was even more of a hassle. I didn't want to deal with her; it was part of why I had broken it off with her. Not the biggest reason, yet it wasn't one to be overlooked.

"Well, I'm sure Isla will understand that it wasn't your fault. Make sure to apologize though; you don't want any trouble on the team."

"I don't want any trouble with her at all."

Mom laughed at that. "You've only just met her; she must have made quite the impression if you are hellbent on becoming friends." Then she froze and turned her green eyes to me. They didn't blink. They stared at me, trying to gaze into my soul and read the answers to all her questions there. Being a mother, I wouldn't be surprised if she could. "Why are you hellbent on becoming friends?" she asked suspiciously.

Oh, no doubt she had already figured it out.

"You know, she seems nice," I tried to play it off.

Mom wasn't buying what I was selling. "It's her. Isn't it? That's why this has you so upset." There was nothing to do but nod. She gave a girlish squeal before pulling herself together again. The grin on her face went from ear to ear, but at least no more squealing. "Sorry, I promised myself I wouldn't do that but, oh well. I can't believe you found your fated. This is so exciting! Does she know yet? I bet she doesn't or you wouldn't be moping in bed right now. That bed would serve a much different purpose."

"Mom!" I groaned, burying my burning face into my pillow. I couldn't look at her again; she would start again, making more jokes at my expense. And while that had never bothered me before, this was the one thing I didn't want her to joke about.

Eventually, her hand appeared on my shoulder, warm and gentle. "Don't worry too much. Figure out how you want to go about this and stick to it. It'll work out, you'll see." Then her hand disappeared and she walked away. She paused in the doorway. "Dinner in five if your dad hasn't ruined it."

From downstairs came a muffled, "I heard that," which had Mom laughing. Then she went back to the kitchen, leaving me with too much to think about.