Suspicious Minds (Stranger Things Novels #1)(33)

“Terry!” Stacey called out over the hum of conversation, fighting her way through. Instead of taking a spot at the back, she shimmied between Terry and the stranger beside her and sat on the table itself. “Andrew called,” she said, leaning forward, ignoring the dirty looks of those around them. “He said—”

“Quiet, please,” an administrative type with a microphone said. The microphone was then placed in front of the TV, the volume cranked to maximum. Nixon appeared center screen in the Oval Office, big forehead, bulbous nose. “Good evening, my fellow Americans,” he said, the amplification scratchy and booming.

Stacey whispered in Terry’s ear. “They’re coming. Here.”

“Okay,” Terry said, not understanding the urgency in Stacey’s voice.

“Shhh,” a boy on the floor in front of them said over his shoulder.

Stacey made a face at the back of his head, but she quieted down.

Nixon went on with an explanation of why they were still in Vietnam when he’d promised to get them out. The crowd watched restlessly.

The doors at the front of the cafeteria burst open and three figures ran through them. Fear blazed through Terry when she saw they were wearing Halloween masks…Then she recognized one of them. Frankenstein. Another was Nixon himself. The third was Superman, the black curl over the forehead. All three of the men were wearing masks that had been left behind at Andrew’s party.

Stacey raised her eyebrows at Terry. “Told you.”

Pride and concern warred in her as the protesters made a line in front of the TV, arms linked. The administrator descended, telling them they had to leave and calling for security.

“Don’t listen to him!” Dave shouted over Nixon. And then Andrew’s voice: “No more lies! End the war!”

A few students shouted support and chanted, “End the war!” A few others shouted for them to let the president talk. Everyone was on their feet, jostling and unsettled. Terry tried to fight her way through the crowd to the front, but it was no use. Security made it first.

No, not campus security. The local cops. The police were here.

Andrew’s last shout before being handcuffed was a slogan he’d showed her in a photo of a rally in the Bay Area: “Frodo lives!”

Terry shook her head. Pride flooded her.

She loved him like the heroic fools they both were.



* * *



—

Terry got to the police station within thirty minutes after the speech ended. The administrator had said anyone who left early could join those who were arrested. Becky wouldn’t approve.

So she’d waited, vaguely panicked, while Nixon claimed his policies represented a large silent majority of Americans, and that those who protested were a minority who hoped being loud would win the day. Then she’d gone home to get all the cash she had in case she needed bail for Andrew.

And now she waited some more in the lobby of a place that reminded her of the Hawkins laboratory. Only less sparkling clean. People came and went, some in uniform.

“Who were you here for?” The officer behind the desk had eyebrows so close together they resulted in permanent disapproval.

Terry jumped to her feet, holding her purse to her stomach. “Andrew Rich.”

“He’s been charged with disturbing the peace and trespassing. The university wants to throw the book at them.”

She’d been afraid of that. He was already on probation. Focus on the immediate problem. “How much to get him out?”

“A hundred dollars.”

Shockingly high. Her bank’s reluctance to give a young single woman an account suddenly played in Terry’s favor. She had ready access to her money, which she kept in an envelope in her underwear drawer. It would take every dime she’d earned from Hawkins, but it was worth it.

“I’ll pay cash.”

“Good, because I’m not taking a check from a young woman without parental approval.”

“My parents are deceased.”

He had the grace to look down at his desk. “Sorry, miss.”

Terry counted out the money and the officer accepted it. “You can sit and wait.”

She hesitated. “I’d like a receipt.”

The disapproving eyebrows shot up, but he wrote her one. He waved a hand toward the waiting area. “I’ll have someone bring him right out.”

That turned out to not be exactly true. Terry sat for another half hour before a familiar figure emerged in the company of another officer. She didn’t care what they thought. She rushed forward to hug him.

“Babe,” he said, low, “you should’ve let me stay overnight. The bail was too much.”

“None of that.” She kissed his cheek and dropped her hand into his as she towed him toward the exit. Keeping contact with him felt essential. So did getting out of this place. “They shouldn’t have arrested you.”

“We knew they probably would.”

They reached outside and Terry breathed in the fresh air like she was the one who’d spent two hours in a cell.

“You must wonder what I was thinking,” Andrew said. “I tried to call. It was just the order that we all had to pay attention to this speech. That we have to pretend like it means anything. I…We had to do something.”