The Fray Theory: Resonance (22 page)

“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 at 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.

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.

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.

Or how to find him.

She pulls her hair behind
her ears. “Romer—”

“We don’t need to talk
about it.”

Neve turns to face him,
but he has already rolled onto his side, facing the other way.

She rummages through her
mind for something to say, anything to fill the void, but nothing fits. So she turns
to face her sleeping city as rain gently drizzles down, more felt than it is seen.

All of a sudden, Neve
can’t shake the feeling that something horrible is about to happen.

She scans the surrounding
buildings, all of which are significantly taller than the Convention Center.

She and Romer may be off
the streets, but they’re still in full view of countless vantage points.

“You know, I’m not too sure
we’re safe up here.”

A slight pause. “We’ve
been safe enough,” he says, his voice cold and detached.

“We could’ve just gotten
lucky,” Neve rises to her feet and rubs her arms in the chill of the night. “Just
because we’re off the streets, doesn’t mean we have reduced visibility.”

“Visibility from where?”

“From all the towers
around us.”

“These are all residential
towers.”

“What if one of the
residents reports us? Thinking we’re vandals, or something?”

Romer exhales a louder,
huffier sigh. “Unless they want to arrest us for grazing, I think we’ll be
fine.”

He’s definitely mad
.

Neve pulls her cardigan in
and walks over to the edge of the roof. She gradually cranes her neck over the rim,
and looks down to street level.

There are a handful of taxis
parked below in front of Pacific Rim Hotel. And further down the block, a
drunken couple is staggering along the sidewalk.

Nothing suspicious, as far
as she can see.

“Well—” Neve backs away
from the edge, “at least from up here we’d be able to see them coming. That is
unless they—” she turns around to find Romer has vanished.