Roam (Roam Series, Book One)

by Stedronsky, Kimberly

  I try to concentrate, remembering that I have a task. What is it? He is kissing me again, and I am melting.

  I woke slowly, languidly, not jolted awake by fear and nausea. I stretched, sliding the alarm off on my phone. Through the window, I could see the sun was shining again, promising to be another humid day.

  Thankful for the central air in our small colonial, I pulled the comforter up to my chin. My chestnut hair spread over my pillow, foreign after my colorful dream. I sighed, trying to remember the last few moments.

  I longed for the feelings of warmth; the tender way he kissed me, the motherly instinct flooding my body… As much as I fought reality, it crept in slowly and let the door slam behind it.

  He doesn’t love me; he loves someone else.

  I love Logan.

  Morgan’s car is shot; dad can barely afford to buy her another one.

  I have piles of homework that I didn’t do.

  Groaning, I turned over. I needed to record my dream to show West. On a whim, I pulled up his last text on my phone and hit ‘call.’

  He answered, sounding gruff. “Hello.”

  “Do you sleep?” I asked, my morning-voice more raspy than usual.

  “Do I…?” The phone jostled a moment, and he puffed air from his lips, exasperated. “Yes, I sleep. Immortals sleep.”

  “I wanted to tell you my dream, instead of writing it down.” Truthfully, I just wanted to hear his voice. The devotion that had been thick in his tone was gone, but it was his voice nevertheless.

  “Shoot.”

  I explained my dream, leaving out his kissing. “I saw in the mirror that I had blonde hair, so I think it was 1977 again.”

  He was silent for a few moments. Finally, I heard him sigh. “It was 1955. We were at a cottage in the Outer Banks. North Carolina,” he sounded lost in thought. “You were pregnant. I kissed you, and then your belly.”

  I breathed deeply, steadying my voice. “Yes.”

  “And nothing else?” He demanded. Frustration was obvious in his tone. I narrowed my eyes, reaching for my glasses.

  “Nothing else.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you at school.”

  He disconnected. I dropped the phone on my bed, disheartened. I felt like I had failed him somehow. I don’t owe him anything! His door-in-a-dream-theory is pointless. Throwing the covers off of me, I stalked to the bathroom. This would not be another day like yesterday. I had classes to attend, and work to do. College felt like minutes away, and no matter what happened, I wanted a future. My future.

  By the time Logan arrived at the house, I was showered and dressed, breakfast eaten and ready to go. I was feeling much more resolved, having run lines in the shower about how I would respectfully decline any further involvement in this “matter.” West would be Mr. Perry and nothing more.

  My dad had already left before I got up, so Logan kissed me in the kitchen a little more deeply than usual. I hugged him tightly, returning his kiss with equal enthusiasm.

  My mind drifted to a bed by the ocean, and I pulled away, irritated with myself.

  “Good morning,” he murmured, stepping back. “You look beautiful. But- I’d lose that sweater,” he gestured to the window. “Already eighty degrees.”

  “I’m fine- and it’s a cardigan,” I corrected, grinning. I had chosen a white, ruffled skirt, a lacy, white cami, and a cherry-red cardigan. I pulled the sleeves down, making sure to cover the numbers completely. I’d Googled ‘tattoo removal’ while eating my cereal.

  “Well, you look like a valentine,” he murmured against my lips. “Come on.”

  Logan talked about his meeting with the recruiter the entire way to school, and I was thankful to have him fill the silence. “Sergeant Fox listened to all of my questions and really took the time to answer them. I feel good about this.”

  I nodded, staring out the window.

  “How do… you feel about this?” He asked, glancing my way. “The Marines,” he clarified.

  “I feel like… I hate it,” I whispered, shocked at my honesty. Something snapped inside me, and I turned to him. “I want you with me. Here. Forever,” I added, wondering just how long that would be.

  His mouth fell open, those dark brown eyes clouding. “Roam, why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “Before what? Before you decided to go? Before you spoke to your family, and the recruiter, and all of your friends? What right do I have to dictate your life?” I was shrieky, I knew it, but fear took my voice to another octave. “Terrible things happen over there! And they continue to happen every day! This is the longest war in our history, and I don’t want to… to lose you.” Selfish tears filled my eyes.

  He pulled his Camry into the school parking lot, quickly finding his space. “I know you’re afraid, and I understand.”

  “You can’t understand. Watch me leave, and then tell me you understand.” Angry, I gathered my back pack. “I can’t.”

  He gripped my hands, pulling me close. I widened my eyes, his gaze intense.

  “Marry me.”

  “What?” I froze, not believing what I was hearing.

  “Marry me before I go.”

  I let a tear slide down the side of my face. “So I can be a widow?”

  “Stop that. You’re my practical, optimistic best friend. You don’t know that I won’t come back.”

  “You don’t know that you will.” I sniffed, wiping at my tear with the back of my sleeve. “I’ll marry you if you stay.”

  He dropped my hands, disgusted. “That’s a shitty thing for you to say, Camden.”

  I winced. I knew that it was, but I couldn’t stop the words from pouring out of my mouth. “I’m really sorry. I take it back.” I slid out of the car. “I can’t marry you before you leave, though. But I’ll support you,” I promised weakly.

  “Obviously.”

  “Come on! You asked how I felt, and I told you. If you didn’t want to know you shouldn’t have asked.” I flung my book bag over my shoulder, walking to the school without him. I heard him call my name, but I ignored it.

  “Ro, walk with me to my locker?” Ally-May must have seen us in the parking lot; she was waiting by the door. I nodded, attempting a brief smile. Nope- no smile. Not happening. “Are you and Logan in a fight?”

  “No,” I answered, too quickly. “Why?”

  “Abby heard you arguing in the parking lot, and said she saw you crying.”

  Abby Lawrence. Always, like a thorn in my side. “Well, she can put her binoculars away and mind someone else’s business.”

  “She’s such a gossip, you’re right,” Ally-May shifted, moving around a group of freshman gathered in the hallway. “So, tell me all about Mr. Perry!”

  I wanted to slam my forehead against my locker. Repeatedly. I searched for my history book, but it was not in my locker. Did I leave it at home? “He’s fine. Not that cute up close. He has terrible breath.”

  I had no idea why I said it, but it seemed the perfect revenge for his lack of personality in our phone call that morning. Ally-May cleaned her jaw up off the floor.

  “Shut UP! He does not! OMG, I have to tell…,”

  “Don’t tell anyone. I have to go.” Guilt tugged on my hand, and I dragged it behind me, shamed.

  West- Mr. Perry- was writing on the dry-erase board when I entered the classroom. His handwriting was neat, in all capitals like my father’s. The World of the Romans, along with an almost-completed outline, filled the board.

  He finished just as the bell to begin class rang, and turned around. He wore a black suit today, the jacket hanging over his chair. A sapphire blue tie hung neatly from the collar of his crisp, white shirt, accenting his eyes exactly. His hair was messy but stylish, and I fought away the memory of the texture between my fingers.

  He met my eyes. I ignored him, slipping into a desk in the back row.

  The lecture was lively; despite his first-day-of-school warnings to not “bore him with opinions,” he was open to meaningful discussion.
I refused to answer any of his questions, though I knew all of the answers without reading the textbook (that I couldn’t find.) The Roman Empire was a particular favorite of mine, and I had covered that the summer between eighth and ninth grade.

  “What is the difference between the Emperor and the Senate? Roam?”

  I continued writing in my notebook, copying from the board. “They were supposed to be equal, but the senate was just a glorified civic institution by the third century. The Emperor held the power.”

  “Good.” He picked up a textbook from his desk and moved closer to me, unbuttoning the first button on his collar and loosening his tie. “But why did it exist at all, then?”

  “The Emperor wanted to appear to operate like a republic.”

  He nodded encouragingly. “How do you feel about this?”

  I blanched. “What? I thought opinions were not welcome here.”

  “I value yours.”

  “Why?” I sounded like an insolent child, I knew it.

  “Because, Miss Camden, you left your history textbook here on Monday. So, the information you are giving me is obviously derived from memory, since none of it is written on the board up there.” He handed me the textbook.

  Quirking an eyebrow, I carefully set my pencil down on the desk. “Civil war is inevitable. For example, the battles of Constantine.” I accepted the book, dropping it to the floor on my book bag.

  He nodded, sitting on an unoccupied desk to my left. “Very good.”

  I picked up my pencil again, copying from the board. The rest of the class chuckled, and I ignored them.

  When the bell rang, I gathered my books and hurried up my row to the front of the classroom, heading for the door. He stepped in front of me.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Perry,” I said politely, trying not to look at his face. My lips tingled at the memory of his on mine.

  “2:45?” He asked softly. I shook my head.

  “This isn’t going to work. I’ll talk to you later.”

  He cut in front of me, shutting the door behind the last student. The frosted glass next to the door was completely covered with history posters; no one could see out- or in. “We have three minutes. Talk.”

  “Mr. Perry, I- I have decided that I choose not to participate in this… this quest.” I had rehearsed a dozen lines in the shower, and none of them included the word “quest.” I made it sound like he’d invited me to a rousing game of Dungeons and Dragons.

  “I’ve offended you somehow.” He crossed his arms, looking at me expectantly. “Was it your dream? Me kissing you?”

  “No!” I tugged at my fingers, gripping my book bag. “No.”

  “Roam, I could kiss you. But you don’t want that,” he reminded me.

  “I don’t,” I confirmed, glancing at the clock. Two minutes.

  “But, what I made you feel, in your dream- you want that.”

  “Yes,” I whispered, mortified. He nodded.

  “Normal. You will find that. If not with Logan, than with some other lucky man.”

  I nodded. He took a step closer, tugging on his tie.

  “I just… it felt nice when you were with me. So close. And… the baby, feeling my stomach…,”

  He stiffened, affected. His face softened. “It’s overwhelming. I want to talk to you more about it, after school. I’m sorry I was so short this morning. I didn’t sleep much- or well- last night,” he admitted, gesturing to his suit. “And I have a meeting today with the faculty members.”

  Embarrassed, I nodded slowly. “I’m sorry. Okay, I’ll meet you. But- not for long. I have so much homework to do.”

  “I understand.” He smiled, reassuring. “Here, 2:45.”

  I slipped out of his classroom, and it wasn’t until lunch that I realized what had happened. He lured me right back in, and actually got me to admit that I longed for him. Am I that naïve?

  I expected Logan to be at his locker, waiting, but he was gone. I checked my phone; no texts. He’s so mad at me.

  Logan was nowhere to be found in the lunch room. By fifth period, I was irritated. He asked me how I felt, and I told him. Did he really expect me to accept his parking-lot marriage proposal?

  I got caught up on my assignments during last period while a substitute teacher showed a French version of Beauty and the Beast. The bell rang to end the day, and still I had no texts from Logan. I decided to offer the olive branch.

  I don’t need a ride home. More research to do. See you tonight?

  I hesitated at our traditional sign-off, ILY. What was the difference between Ally-May’s OMG and mine and Logan’s ILY? It was not a word. It was just laziness.

  I added I love you, Logan to the end of my text and pressed ‘send.’

  In the history room, West left the door open behind me. “We can talk here, but with the door open. We just have to be quiet.”

  “Sure.” I shrugged. “I told you everything. You remember; you were there. But, I have a question for you. Does your memory of that day… match what I told you? Did I act strangely when you kissed me, and try to move away?”

  He considered my question. “You’re suggesting that you can change the past in your dream,” he concluded. I nodded. “No, but that’s a great question. I remember that morning very well. You kissed me back, and asked me to take you swimming in the ocean. We were deciding if it was safe.”

  Since none of that occurred, I guessed that he was right- it was impossible. “I was wearing a peach nighty-thing… it was silky. You kissed me, and then my stomach… and I touched your hair,” I added that detail, just in case it had any significance.

  He smirked. “You did?”

  I ignored his smirk. “And… I saw my numbers. They were moving around… swirling.”

  His eyebrows snapped together. “You didn’t tell me that.”

  “And… you kissed my arm, over the numbers… and they were kind of swirling around on your mouth. I can’t explain it right- it was weird. Like they were animated.”

  He listened intently. “The numbers. This is important.” He moved to his laptop, typing something while standing bent-over at the desk. “’Swirling’ around.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, pushing my sleeve up to check the numbers on my arm again. They were the same; motionless.

  “Put your sleeve down,” he ordered. I jumped- he was standing right next to me, tugging on my sleeve. “I want you to start wearing a bandage on your arm. We’ll make up an injury.”

  “But- what does that mean?” I asked again, ignoring his over-protectiveness. He looked at the doorway, smiling and offering a little wave. The custodian returned his wave. I rolled my eyes, guessing that Mr. Perry was the subject of her dreams as well.

  “It means you found what we’re looking for. The swirling, the movement- it’s a break in your subconscious, an indicator.”

  Chapter Ten“The numbers? That’s what we’re looking for?” I leaned against an empty desk, crossing my legs. He narrowed his eyes.

  “Stand up,” he ordered. I obliged, looking confused. “Now, put your arms flat at your sides.” I did, my fingertips touching just below the hem of my skirt. “Your skirt is too short. Don’t wear it again.”

  I clenched my jaw, infuriated. With a quick tug, I adjusted my skirt to come down just past my fingertips. “Better, Mr. Perry?” My voice dripped with sarcasm.

  “Knock it off. Like I said, I have to protect you. Two men are looking for you, and they are powerful- and strong. Since I can’t be with you twenty-four hours a day, I need you to be able to protect yourself. For starters, don’t dress like a Hollister ad. Don’t stand out.”

  His words were fervent; I nodded, fear gripping my chest. “I understand. I’m sorry,” I said softly.

  “Tomorrow, I will start teaching you to fight. Not just self-defense- that’s not enough. We’re not talking about an over-zealous boyfriend. The Alters want to kill you, Roam.”

  I trembled, balling the ends of my sleeves in my hands. “Kill me,” I wh
ispered. Images of torture, memory of the pain in my arm, like the repeated sting of the yellow jacket, fill my mind. “And my family? Logan?”’

  “Breathe.” He ordered, staring at the dry-erase board. I counted again, focusing on my breathing. “They already have the upper hand if you can’t breathe.” He walked to the board, erasing a panel and opening a black marker. “The numbers are the answer. Based on what I’ve learned, I believe that a door opens up the moment you’re born.” He began writing numbers on the board, and then stood back to look at them. He ran his fingers through his dark blonde hair, and then removed his tie completely.

  “I want to know the locations to go with the years,” I remembered. “Please text them to me, okay?”

  He ignored me. “The numbers are a location, but we know what they represent. Could they have a double meaning?”

  “Do you think, maybe, they are swirling because… the answer is in the order?”

  He dropped his tie to his desk, his hand stopping in mid air. Turning to me, his eyes widened. “Roam- you are brilliant.”

  “I think so.”

  Both West and I turned abruptly to the doorway. Logan’s voice startled us both. “Anyone who gets to choose between Princeton and Yale is pretty brilliant.” His words were flattering, but I detected suspicion in his voice. “What are we researching here?”

  West didn’t miss a beat. “Quantum mechanics. I suggested that history could be changed with time travel, but Roam feels that the lasting effects would change the present too much.”

  “Ah, like Stephen King’s book,” he nodded, winking at me. “Roam read that book in two days. Eight hundred and fifty pages,” he teased, walking to me and tucking his arm around my waist.

  “Eight hundred and forty-nine,” I corrected, reaching for my book bag. “It was just so good- I couldn’t put it down. We were just finishing up here, anyway. I have homework,” I reminded West.

  “Have a nice night, Roam. Logan, right? I hear you’ve been quite a star on the varsity baseball team,” West commented. “I played baseball in high school. What’s your average?”

  “.298,” Logan admitted proudly. They began discussing baseball, and within minutes Logan was relaxed and laughing.