Suspicious Minds (Stranger Things Novels #1) - Gwenda Bond Page 0,74

Don’t listen to me. I’m trying to pretend I’m not freaking out, but I am.”

Now this was Terry’s Andrew. This she understood. Honesty.

“Sam, it’s okay,” she said, tugging the covers down. “You’re going to Mount Doom. No one knows what’s going to happen to you there.”

“I know that the Enemy isn’t there.” Andrew turned his head to look at her, though.

Terry nodded to him. “That’s right. We all know that. You’re a good man to go.”

“Am I?”

“You’re a good man.” She would not cry. She would be strong—stronger than she knew she could. Ken had predicted it. “I’m not letting you break up with me. This is…It’s my fault. Dr. Brenner arranged this somehow. I didn’t want to tell you but…”

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. It’s my fault. I think he did this to you.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Andrew was quiet for a moment. He leaned forward and kissed her lips so softly she barely felt it. “It’s not your fault. If he did or didn’t, who can say? It might have happened anyway.”

She couldn’t manage to speak. She nodded.

“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

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