twenty-three || relationship advice

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JUNE 27th

"Isn't it a bit odd that the people who should have the best lung capacity are the ones who smoke the most cigarettes?"

Tatum's head lifted from an advanced copy of her father's most recent novel slated to publish in the fall, lifting her sunglasses up onto her head. "Beg your pardon?" Her cigarette bobbled in her lips as she spoke, squinting against the sun beating down on the backyard pool deck.

     "You heard me." Elena took the cigarette from her stepdaughter and snubbed it out in the ash tray next to the lounge chairs. "How are you supposed to have the breath to save someone underwater if your lung capacity diminishes by the second?"

     "Oi, now," she protested. "I still have fantastic lungs."

     "Now being the operative word," Elena said, not quite dressed for a dip in the pool. Her eyes flickered to the cool water rippling toward the deep end. "Can I steal you away for a moment?"

     Tatum marked her page and set the novel aside before popping up from her chair. She grabbed her shorts from the ground, sliding them on over her swimsuit. Following Elena inside, she was immediate detained from trying to light another cigarette. "I'm eighteen, El."

     "It's bad enough that your father let you foster this habit," Elena protested, taking Tatum's zippo and putting it her pocket. "And we're about to leave for the month so the least you can do is wait until then."

     "Did you bring me in here to lecture me?" she asked with a quirked brow.

     Elena shook her head lightly. "No, no that's not why." She motioned a thumb over her shoulder. "I just got another telephone call from your brother."

     Tatum's eyes widened. "From Ben? How on earth could he ring you twice in less than a year?"

     "I have no idea, but he did. It was his voice, clear as day," Elena told her.

     "What did he say?"

     "First it was like before, just simple things. Checking up on how we are. Not talking much about himself."

     "It sounds like there's a 'but' coming," she said.

     Elena reached out, taking Tatum's hand. "He told us to leave Hawkins."

    Tatum's lips parted softly, searching her stepmother's eyes for any hint of a joke. "What?"

     "I tried to ask him what he meant, but he wouldn't say. He couldn't say," she told him. "He just said we needed to leave."

     "Do you think he's wanting us to go back to England so he can come home?"

     Elena shook her head. "No, no it didn't sound like that. And he didn't say to go back to Glouster. He said anywhere. Anywhere but Hawkins."

     "So, what does that mean?" Tatum asked. "Do you trust him? He defected from Queen and Country. It's treason to even speak to him."

     "He's my son, Tate."

     "I get that. I still love Ben after everything, too, but it's hard to trust him. He works for Russia. He chose them over us. Not just Britain, but us as a family."

     "I don't know what to do."

     Tatum squeezed her hand. "You do as he says, then."

     Elena's brows furrowed. "What?"

     "Go to California." Tatum nodded. "You and Dad go as you planned. You enjoy Hollywood and meet all the famous people you can. Visit the set of Dad's film. Go to the beach and watch the surfers. Don't think about Hawkins while you're away."

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