Suspicious Minds (Stranger Things Novels #1)(67)

Andrew waved over the waitress.

“What do you want, hon?” she asked, chewing gum all the while.

Andrew hesitated. “A chocolate milkshake.”

When she left with a nod, he said, “May as well live it up.” He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. “As far as meddling goes…These are small things, aren’t they? Our lives. That’s the whole point. We’re all disposable.”

Ken didn’t agree. And…“You better not say things like that over there.”

“Pretty sure I won’t be alone.”

Ken had a moment of weird transference looking at Andrew then. It could just as easily have been himself going overseas—still could, if the war was still going on when he graduated. His draft number was relatively high, so he was safe for now. He wondered what being in the military would be like for him. Not good, he imagined. Or good as long as he kept to himself, kept his secrets. He was used to that, but it didn’t mean he liked it.

“No one’s disposable,” Ken said. “People make that mistake all the time.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.” Andrew drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “What’s your deal anyway? The psychic thing is real?”

Ken stared out the diner window for a few breaths, waiting for a feeling to come. Should he answer? Should he be honest?

You can trust this man, like you trust Terry.

Okay then.

“My family always believed in this stuff, and it feels real to me. That’s what I can tell you. I’ve lived life negotiating these feelings about what might happen.” Ken sipped his coffee and replaced the cup on the table. He rotated it nervously. “And I always thought family protected family, but now I think we choose who we protect.”

“What changed?” Andrew seemed genuinely interested.

“My family treated me as disposable.” Ken smoothed his hands on his jeans. He hardly ever talked about this, almost never. His palms were sweating. “They were okay with one kind of different, the kind they understand, but not another.”

Andrew shook his head, and Ken could tell he didn’t fully get it yet. “I’m so sorry,” Andrew offered. “Mine’s been there for me, even though they think I was an idiot. That must hurt.”

“It did. Less now,” Ken said. He gave a sad smile. “Well, as long as I don’t think about it.”

“What happened?” Andrew asked.

People never understood that being psychic didn’t mean you were right all the time. It didn’t mean Ken had all the answers. It didn’t mean he never messed up. People could disappoint him, just like anyone else. But he might as well keep being honest.

“I told them I was dating a guy—we broke up, afterward, but I know I fall in love someday. And that will be with a man, too. I think I meet the person I fall in love with at Hawkins.”

“I had no idea. I mean, I’d never have known…” Andrew had a panicked air about him.

“I suppose I should take that as a compliment.”

“I’m being an asshole,” Andrew said. “What I mean is that’s fucked up, to lose family over who you love. I’m sorry, brother.” He smiled. “Is that why you’re really at Hawkins then, doing all this? To meet your guy?”

Ken smiled back. When trust worked out, there wasn’t a better feeling. “That, and what I told Terry and the others. I do think we’re all important to each other. It was something I knew I had to do.” A pause. “But it doesn’t hurt to be looking for Mr. Right.”

“No candidates yet, I take it?”

“Slim pickings. But I’ll know,” Ken said. “At least I hope I will.”

The waitress returned with Andrew’s milkshake, tall and foamy and delicious-looking.

“Thanks,” Andrew told her.

“Hey, have you ever dipped French fries in your chocolate shake?” Ken asked him.

“No,” Andrew said. “What wizardry is this?”

“You haven’t lived,” Ken said. He waved the waitress back over and ordered some fries. “How’d Terry take it?” he asked when she’d bustled away.

Andrew gave a half smile. “She didn’t make it easy.”

“No shocker there.”

Andrew hesitated. “I don’t want to know about me, but Terry—will she be okay?”

“I don’t know,” Ken said. “About either of you. That’s the reason I called you. I just…felt like things might be better for her if you were on a break while you’re gone. I can’t explain it any more than that.”

The French fries arrived. Andrew picked up a fry, his wince proving how hot it was. He dipped it in the milkshake and took a bite. “That’s amazing. Hot and cold, salty and sweet.”

Ken reached across the table for a fry, too. “I promise I’ll do whatever I can to make sure she’s okay. Good enough?”

“No,” Andrew said, pressing the plate to the middle of the table and scooting his milkshake forward. “But you can’t always get what you want.”

The wisdom of the Rolling Stones. Ken replied in kind. “Sometimes you can’t even get what you need.”