Free Student Body (Nightmare Hall) by Diane Hoh Page A

I wasn’t related to Hoop. I still had a right to be there, whether she thought so or not.
    She must have remembered me from the night before because she didn’t say, “Who? Oh, you mean the Sinclair boy, Michael.” Sitting down at her desk, she said instead, “He’s back now. He was down on the second floor. Consultation about his course of treatment.” She looked up at me. “It’s going to be very rough, you know. If he makes it at all, there will be times during his recovery when he’ll wish he hadn’t. Treatment for burns as serious as his is horribly painful. He’s going to need a lot of support. I hope you’ll continue to come and see him through the long haul. Most people can’t take it and give up after a while.”
    Well, I thought but didn’t say, I’d like to be here for Hoop, but he may have something to say about that. Because when he is alert and recovering, he’s going to remember exactly what happened. And maybe he’ll hate the five people who were once his very best friends, because they didn’t come back and save him from that fire. So he probably won’t want to see our faces.
    “Has he said anything yet?” I asked.
    Nurse Lovett shook her head. “Oh, heavens no. He couldn’t possibly talk. His face … well, he hasn’t even been conscious yet. Be grateful for small favors. In fact, it’s really senseless for you to keep making these trips down here. It’s going to be a while before he’s physically able to talk, and even longer before he’ll feel like making the attempt. Just call. We’ll keep you updated on his condition.”
    I knew she was right. It really didn’t make much sense to keep going to the medical center when Hoop was still in such bad shape.
    But I wanted, needed, to see him one more time before I left. I waited until Nurse Lovett’s back was turned, and then did an end run around her. In the ICU unit, I went to Hoop’s window and stood looking in at him.
    I don’t know what I’d been hoping for. A miracle, maybe. To see Hoop, unbandaged, sitting up in bed, watching a basketball game on television and scarfing down hospital food.
    No such luck. There was no sign of life at all in the white-wrapped figure lying motionless in the white hospital bed with tubes running in and out of his body. That’s all it seemed to be from where I stood, a body. It could as easily have been a mannequin from one of the department stores in Twin Falls.
    The sight sickened me. The Hoop I’d known and liked, even loved as a friend, had been replaced by this mannequinlike, lifeless figure.
    At least, I tried to tell myself, he wasn’t screaming in agony.
    “Excuse me,” a soft voice said from behind me, “but aren’t you Tory Alexander? One of Michael’s friends?”
    I groaned silently. Hoop’s mother. I should have beat it out of there the minute I’d seen the empty bed.
    I turned around. What else could I do?
    “Hi, Mrs. Sinclair.” She looked terrible. Her blouse and skirt were wrinkled, there was a small coffee stain on one blouse pocket, and her gray hair needed combing. And I had never seen such sad eyes. “You really should be sleeping, like your husband.”
    “Oh, I can’t sleep,” she said, taking my hand to lead me into the waiting room. The lights were brighter in there and when she turned to look at me, she looked confused. “Tory? Were you … you weren’t with Michael in that terrible fire, were you? I thought the rangers told us he was alone in the park. But your face …”
    “Oh, this,” I said, waving a hand. “No, I screwed up at the tanning salon today.”
    She looked even more confused. I knew what she was thinking. She was thinking, My Michael is lying in a hospital bed in agony, teetering on the edge of death, and one of his best friends went to a tanning salon? I will never understand young people if I live to be a thousand.
    I didn’t like what she was thinking, but it would have taken too long to explain. “I’m sorry about Hoop, Mrs.