Suspicious Minds (Stranger Things Novels #1)(66)

“And this is not a breakup,” he went on. “It’s your freedom. I want you to not be waiting around for me, not if something else comes up. I can’t do what I have to do thinking I’m holding you back. I don’t want that. So we take a break while I’m gone…I won’t stop loving you. And I hope I will come home and we will be together.”

Terry wanted to say, You will. We will. That’s not necessary.

But she couldn’t promise that. She didn’t see the future. No one saw the future for soldiers. Or if they did, they didn’t talk about it. Too often it was something no one wanted to see. He’d obviously practiced that little speech.

Terry sighed. “If that’s what you need, that’s what we’ll do.”

Andrew exhaled. He lay back as if in utter relief.

Terry jumped out of bed and rummaged in her bag for the camera.

He raised his eyebrows.

“Mind out of the gutter,” she said. “I just want a portrait to remember us by.”

“Oh,” he said. “But won’t we need someone else to take it?”

Terry shook her head. “No, long arms. You hold one side, I’ll hold the other, and then I’ll reach up and push the button. I’ll put it in position.”

Alice had been the genius who came up with the idea you could take pictures of yourself with the camera. It would never have occurred to Terry to try.

She put her knee on the bed and looked through the viewfinder—the short hair was nice—and when she was happy with the angle, she waved for him to lift his hand. He held it as she dropped next to him, her palm cupping the other side. She snuggled in close so both their heads would be in the shot.

“Smile,” she said, and then reached up to hit the button.

“Wait!” she said when he began to lower the camera. Polaroid film was expensive but this was important. She leaned up to grab the print as it came out the front.

“This should be part of basic training,” Andrew said, as if holding his arm up was killing him.

“One more for me,” she said and lay back down. She turned her face to kiss his cheek and felt his grin widen. She reached up and pushed the button. Another whir, another photo dispensed.

He dropped the camera to Terry’s side, where it lightly bounced on the mattress. They cuddled closer and waved their photos, waiting for them to develop.

Terry wished there was a trick that would allow her to take a photo of this moment and stay in it until nothing stood in the way of a million more moments like it.



* * *



—

Andrew drove her back to the dorm in his Barracuda, and he didn’t even bother turning on the radio. He planned to drop her off and then return for that last beer with Dave. But when he pulled up in front of the building, he lingered. He picked up his Polaroid from the dash and looked at it. Both of them grinned out of it, Terry slightly forward as she leaned up to push the button.

“Thank you,” Andrew said. “For this.”

“Thank you, babe,” Terry replied.

She’d cry later. Not now.

I wish you could stay. Don’t go. I feel like there’s more to say but I don’t want to say it because then it’s like admitting I’ll never see you again.

Andrew set the photo back down. He took her hands in his. “I want you to be well. Take down your lab asshole. Look out for kid sister.”

Terry had to smile at that, but it almost forced the tears out. “Working on it. I swear.”

“You got this. I wouldn’t go up against you.”

“Well, you’re not a monster.”

Andrew still didn’t know the full truth of Alice’s monsters and when they were from. Terry wouldn’t bring up the future, not now. She’d bring it up when he came back. When they had a future in front of them.

“I better get going. You avoid unnecessary monsters,” Andrew said. “And write me sometimes.”

“Back at you.”

And Terry kissed him, not knowing if it was the last time or not.





3.


Ken wasn’t foolish enough to arrange a meeting at Terry’s diner, where someone might recognize him as her friend and mention it to her. Instead he met Andrew at a campus greasy spoon with the best black coffee the area had to offer. That he added three sugar cubes scandalized the waitstaff. But he liked his coffee how he liked his coffee.

Andrew dropped into the booth opposite him and dragged a hand over his buzz cut. Ken recognized the gesture from the last time he’d gone from long to short—years ago now—and kept searching for his missing locks whenever he was stressed-out.

“Man, you better be right,” Andrew said. “That was tough.”

“She’s going to have a hard enough time.” Ken didn’t know the specifics. In fact, he kept feeling lost at sea where Terry was concerned. He got waves of certainty that she was strong and getting stronger, but the picture was incomplete. It frustrated him and he wasn’t sure he’d made the right call contacting Andrew and advising him to break things off while he was gone. “Like I said, she’s been struggling, and it could put all of us in more danger.”

“She would hate you going behind her back.”

“I know.” Ken sighed. “I’m not supposed to meddle in big things. I think I told you, my mom taught me that when I was a kid.”