Resonance by Nelou Keramati


  “Where are you going!?” Romer squeaks, but Neve doesn’t even acknowledge his question.

  I can’t believe him… I can NOT believe him!

  And the pounding of Romer’s footsteps becomes louder and louder, until—

  “Hey, hang on!” he grabs Neve’s arm and pins her in place. “I asked you where you’re going.”

  “Let go,” she says.

  “Not until you tell me where you—”

  “I don’t know,” she huffs, losing her patience.

  “Exactly, which is why we need to—”

  “They’re going to kill him, Romer!”

  “They’re going to kill you!”

  “Let me go, let—AH!” she screams as Romer pulls her over his shoulder and lifts her up.

  “OW! Jesus,” he winces and tightens his shoulders.

  “Put me down, Romer,” Neve demands as he turns and resumes his climb up the stairs. “ROMER!”

  “By all means, throw a tantrum in the mix.”

  Draped over his shoulder, she starts to pound on his lower back. “Romer… RO—I swear to God!”

  “There’s more cushion south of the equator.”

  “ARGHHHH!” she tries to rise, but he clamps her back down.

  “Could you grab the door, please?” he asks with a cheery voice, and then pushes through the exit with the bottom of Neve’s shoes. “Thank you!”

  “ROMER, I—” Neve’s voice locks in her throat as they emerge onto the Convention Center’s rooftop— onto a secluded green summit with the blue harbor draping beyond.

  Neve’s bewildered eyes glide over the lush carpet of grass, and she marvels at the thousands of daisies sprinkled onto it like powdered sugar.

  She knows this place… The memory of her horrid nightmare is draping onto it like a sheer veil.

  Romer lowers her down onto the slanted roof, but she can’t rip her gaze from her surroundings.

  Yet another one of her dreams has materialized.

  What will happen next?

  “You okay?” Romer’s voice beckons her focus, but she just stares beyond him at the watermelon sky.

  “Neve?”

  “Do pink clouds rain blood?” Neve finds herself asking. As though the answer could undo the horror of being drenched in blood pouring from the sky. As if it could make her forget the steely voice of the man she’s now come to fear with every fiber of her being.

  “Okay, what are you talking about?” Romer asks.

  Neve doesn’t utter a word. Why is she here? How many stars would’ve had to align in order to bring her to this very spot? And at this exact moment?

  “Hey,” Romer reaches out, but she recoils at his touch. “Okay, now you’re scaring me.”

  “I—”

  Where does she even begin?

  Concern taints Romer’s expression. He sighs, and then sneaks a glance towards the seaplane terminal.

  “We can’t go,” Neve says decidedly. “We can’t just take off and leave him here.”

  “Neve—we do not have a choice. If we stay here they’re going to find us, and then we won’t be of any help to anyone.”

  “I just can’t leave him,” she shakes her head. “He got caught up in all of this because of me. If I wasn’t dumb enough to take Galen’s book—”

  “Oh don’t do that,” Romer frowns.

  “If you want to go, just go.”

  “And just leave you here?”

  “Why not? You don’t seem to have a problem with leaving him behind.”

  “They have him!” Romer cranes his neck forward. “What—you’re just gonna walk into the lion’s den?”

  “I’ll figure something out,” she heads for the door, but Romer grabs her by the arms.

  “Look—” he takes his intensity down a notch. “I get it, okay? I know you think you’re doing the brave thing. The right thing. And I know you love him—”

  “Don’t talk down to me,” Neve pushes off of him. “I’m not a child you need to handle.”

  He tightens his lips and exhales through his nose.

  “And you don’t know a thing about me.”

  “What I know—is that we’re in the middle of a shit-storm. Not a fairytale. And you thinking this is one of those love conquers all situations—”

  “Stop telling me how I feel, Romer!”

  “I wouldn’t have to if you had your goddamn head screwed on straight!”

  “ME!? You’re the one blowing hot and cold every five seconds, still hung up on some bullshit feud!”

  A small twitch tugs at the corner of his mouth. He scoffs and looks away with a nonchalant smile, but the fury brewing inside him melts it right off.

  “What’s wrong?” Neve coaxes. “Don’t like it when people tell you how it is?”

  “You have no idea how it is,” he glares.

  “I may not know exactly what’s going on, but it’s obvious you’ve been just waiting for the day you’d get to stick it to him! You’re so goddamn petty that you can’t—”

  “I lost EVERYTHING because of him!” an icy glow emanates from his eyes. “EVERYTHING! MY HOME! MY REPUTATION! MY FUTURE!”

  Neve backs off against the heat of his rage, feeling like a hare at the mercy of a ravenous wolf.

  She was not expecting such an explosive eruption.

  “I’m sorry,” she says.

  “No you’re not,” his eyes narrow as he shakes his head. “You don’t even know what sorry is.”

  “What the hell is it with you and apologies!?”

  “Here’s an idea: why don’t you get your goddamn facts straight before you run your mouth off? Hmm? Maybe that way, you wouldn’t be apologizing every five seconds.”

  Neve clenches her jaw, her heart pounding.

  “What?” Romer throws his chin up.

  She’d say something. Fire back. But she can’t even formulate a coherent thought.

  “That’s what I thought,” he walks right past her.

  Neve remains still, feeling utterly paralyzed.

  This can’t be it. Running can’t be the only option.

  But what else can they do? Just stay here and wait for a miracle while her nightmare keeps replaying in her mind?

  She turns and looks at Romer down the slant. He’s sitting at the southern brim of the rooftop, rubbing his shoulder.

  And Neve realizes that the only thing keeping her back is her ego, so she swallows her pride and makes her way down towards him.

  Romer turns his head slightly, letting Neve know he’s aware of her approach. But even once she’s sat down next to him, he doesn’t acknowledge her.

  So she just looks at him. All of him.

  His leather jacket is badly scraped, his white shirt has a pink tint to it, and the loose strands of his hair are swaying in the wind like golden willow branches.

  He looks completely haggard.

  Neve looks back out into distance.

  She follows the slender strings of headlights and brake lights flowing through the city’s veins, seeking Dylan from amidst all possibility.

  The first time she lost Dylan, it was like dropping a priceless jewel into the ocean. And no matter how hard she tried to swim into the depths, she couldn’t reach him. She couldn’t find him. So she just kept on treading water, waiting for north to find her.

  “I really am sorry,” she says softly. “I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s been a rough couple of weeks—”

  “If you want me to feel sorry for you, you’ve got the wrong guy.”

  “I don’t,” she faces him. “I’m just so sick of feeling like a victim, you know? Of being the consequence of the things that happen to me.”

  “Yeah, well,” Romer leans forward and rips off a long blade of grass, “sometimes you’re dealt a hand you can’t win.”

  Silence.

  “What happened between you two?” Neve asks.

  Romer looks up as if he’s bursting at the seams. But instead of spilling what’s eating away at him, he just stares a
t Neve like she’s a complete stranger.

  “Look,” she starts, “I know you think it’s none of my business. And maybe it isn’t. But I feel like I’m walking on eggshells around you. Both of you. And given everything that’s happened, I just don’t think keeping each other in the dark is the best idea.”

  “It’s not my secret to tell.”

  Neve’s fingertips fly up to her pulsating temples. “I just don’t get you,” she shakes her head. “You’re willing to hop on a plane and leave him behind, but God forbid you rat him out?”

  Romer looks away, exhaling an exasperated sigh.

  Neve stares for a moment, then rises to her feet and heads up the slope towards the rooftop exit.

  “Neve—” he calls after her. “I’m not Dylan! I’m not going to chase after you!” A few more seconds pass. “NEVE! GET BACK HERE!”

  And as though caught by an invisible lasso, Neve is suddenly yanked backwards by a powerful force.

  Screaming, she crashes into Romer, and they both slide to the very edge of the roof.

  “OW!” Romer groans and clutches his shoulder. “I really need a better handle on this shit.”

  Sprawled on her belly, Neve props herself onto her elbows. “The hell is your problem!?” she glares at Romer with equal parts awe and anger, then tries to slip out from under his legs.

  Just as she goes to rise, Romer grabs and pulls her down, pinning her onto her back.

  “Let me go!” she struggles, but he shifts his weight onto her. And then she can’t even budge.

  “God—you’re such a drama queen,” he chuckles.

  “You think this is a joke!?”

  “It’s funny like a joke.”

  “So is a swift kick in the balls!”

  Romer flinches at the sheer thought, and it’s just enough for Neve to wriggle out from under him.

  Covered in grass blades and tiny white petals, she rises to her feet and faces Romer, panting.

  “Are you out of your mind?” Romer rises as well. His voice is stern, and all evidence of playfulness has vanished from his expression. “They will find you. Do you understand that? Do I need to remind you what happened at Galen’s?”

  Neve’s shoulders slacken. He’s right. But knowing something to be true does not make it any easier to accept.

  “I don’t care,” she says with a tormented smile on her lips. “I’m a stupid girl, walking willingly into the lion’s den. Are you happy? A stupid, irrational girl throwing her life away over some boy.”

  “Neve—” Romer takes a small step forward.

  “Just let me go,” she backs away. “Please? It’s my mistake. No one will blame you for my mistake.”

  Romer’s chest deflates, and through the crack in his tough exterior, she sees a vulnerability she never knew existed.

  “Come here,” Romer takes her arm and pulls her into a gentle embrace.

  Neve rests her head onto his muscular chest, his heartbeat drowning her thoughts. His shirt is damp, its oaky fragrance making her feel lightheaded.

  And then, even if for a moment, she feels peace.

  From atop the green summit, Romer’s gaze soars over the train tracks lining the harbor. And not too far in the distance, he fixates on the container cranes by the shipping docks.

  Red, and absolutely ravishing in the sun’s gleam.

  The same cranes he and Dylan would stare at for hours from the roof of his workshop—drinking beer and talking about girls.

  About her, he looks down at Neve, and then pulls her in even closer.

  His gaze finds its way back to the cranes. To the pile of red steel he used to liken to his best friend’s hair. A boy he loved like a brother. A boy he would have taken a bullet for.

  Did take a bullet for. And Dylan just left him there to bleed to death, alone in the dark.

  At the thought, Romer’s silver scars begin to ache, his blood boiling with anger and resentment. And he stares at those cranes—at the ever-present symbol of the things he’ll never be able to bury—wondering if he’ll ever survive the chaos slowly killing him from within.

  The color of rage. The color of war. Of love, lust, and passion. To think of all colors in the world, blood chose to be red.

  Chapter 29

  Limbo

  Neve rouses behind a clear window with the navy sky draping beyond. The night air is crisp and oxygenated, and aside from the gentle patter of raindrops and the occasional swoosh of cars in the distance, there is little else to be heard.

  Neve shifts in place, and a few grass blades brush against her cheeks.

  Confusion overcomes her. Is she outside?

  It’s definitely raining, judging by the clear bands of water running down the window pane. But then, how come she isn’t getting wet?

  She must still be half-dreaming, on the precipice of sleep and wakefulness. At that sweet spot, where fantasy and reality play tricks on one another.

  She rubs her eyes, then follows the branches of running water upwards. But to her surprise, there seems to be no end to the window-pane. Instead, it curves and curves as Neve rolls onto her back, until she realizes she is lying beneath a water dome.

  Are her eyes deceiving her?

  She watches the patter of raindrops, and how the bands of running water branch out on the way down. How they cleave and coalesce, draping over the clear dome—the invisible dome?—like a crystalline mesh.

  How?

  She props herself up, and looks around.

  The water dome is impeding her vision, but when she catches a glimpse of Romer sleeping behind her, it all comes rushing back: they’re still on the rooftop of the Convention Center.

  And Neve remembers how adamant Romer was to leave, but remained behind to keep her from doing something stupid. How they fought, no holds barred, and how it somehow helped them find their middle-ground.

  Right here.

  Neve glances up at the glistening mesh of water cascading around them.

  He has got to see this, she thinks, then rolls onto her belly and pulls herself up to him.

  She goes to nudge him awake, but hesitates at the sight of a faint glow enlivening his closed eyelids.

  It’s absolutely spellbinding.

  Like a glacier reflecting the moonlight.

  She takes another look up at the water dome, and realizes its apex is directly above Romer’s head.

  The glow… she looks down at him.

  This is the same glow that radiated from his eyes when he exploded at her over Dylan. The same glow Neve witnessed when he was trying to pull her from Elliot’s grave.

  She remembers the toppled tombstones, and how each time Romer exerted himself, they inched closer and closer towards them, converging in. Even earlier today, when Neve was trying to leave, it was some invisible energy that pulled her back to Romer.

  And then she recalls what Galen said, right before their session came to an abrupt end:

  ‘In due time, those of us who indulge our minds will be able to transcend our physical limits.’

  Telekinesis… She looks up at the crystalline dome, reminiscing over Galen’s words, his sweet smile, and even sweeter coffee.

  The thought of anything having happened to him is not only enraging, but terrifying. Because now that they’ve lost The Fray Theory, they need his guidance more than ever.

  Without Galen, they’re all on their own.

  Neve looks back down at Romer and remembers his face in the dim light of the exhibition space—his back covered in sawdust from his fall off the ladder, and his wavy locks in disarray before he gathered them back into a half-pony.

  That boy, despite his unparalleled sex-appeal, she would not have cared to see ever again. But this boy, sleeping right in front of her..?

  He saved her life. Twice.

  He refused to betray Dylan’s trust, even in spite of his anger. And though he knew better, he still stayed behind so Neve wouldn’t be alone in this.

  Rough, hot-headed, honest, and kind.

&nbs
p; He is nothing like Neve thought he would be, and it’s starting to scare her.

  She reaches up to pull a lock of his hair behind his ear, but the moment her fingertip glides against his earlobe, Romer’s eyes flicker open.

  And Neve finds herself incapable of looking away, utterly hypnotized by the silver magic radiating from his eyes.

  And not a moment later, she is tasting his lips.

  Neve’s eyes snap shut as Romer grips the back of her neck, and pulls her into an even deeper kiss.

  A flurry of warmth and nervous pleasure flows into her. The pressure of his lips is making her feel like she’s melting into him.

  A sweet ache, hot and moist.

  And when Neve gasps for air, he gently slips his tongue into her mouth. The pleasure is so intense, it makes her entire body writhe.

  Oh God. Oh my God. The world fades away and all that remains is euphoria. Rapture. The way their lips lock is as if they were made for each other.

  She’s utterly consumed by him.

  Stifling a moan, Neve tries to break away, but he grabs the small of her back and pulls her even closer.

  And no longer can she tell his heartbeat from her own.

  With a hiss that sucks all the air from her mouth, their lips suddenly part.

  Romer drops his head back down, nose crinkled, and eyes squeezed shut. And then, Neve can feel the patter of raindrops on her back.

  “Are you okay?” she tries to pull off of him, but his hold of her back is firm and unyielding.

  And when he opens his eyes again, he looks at her in a way she never thought he would. The way you’re looked at—if you’re lucky—only a handful of times in a lifetime.

  His gaze drops onto Neve’s lips, and with a sharp breath, he brings his head back up for another taste.

  An inch shy of their mouths reuniting, Neve pulls back and licks her lips guiltily.

  Romer’s brows furrow as his gaze shifts between her eyes. He then lowers his head back down onto the grass, his hand sliding off the small of her back.

  Holding her breath, Neve gathers herself and sits up, facing the other way.

  While their lips were locked, it all made so much sense. But now when she looks around at the sodden rooftop, all she can think of is Dylan, and how she has no idea where he is.

 
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