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He was generally a good student and enjoyed school, which was unusual for people in theatre. But it hadn’t shown in Dr. Allen’s class.Neither was his poor performance her fault. He slept through her classes. He deserved less than he got. She kept her end of the bargain, even though she said it was fraudulent research. He passed. Never again would he schedule a seven-thirty a.m. class. Sometimes theatre and school just didn’t mix.He wouldn’t be in front of her door if it weren’t for the added work-study he’d been granted to help him earn money for the summer trip to England. Next fall they would pay him for his work as theatre technical director. This spring, however, he was nothing more than campus delivery boy. He considered leaving the package at Dr. Allen’s door, but Miss Peterson in the mail room had distinctly said, “Deliver in person. If she’s not there, wait.” It must be important. Maps, if he was any judge of what would come from New York in a five-foot tube that weighed this. Soft light filtered through the room, and she stared up at a pastel blue ceiling. Funny, it looked just like the one she’d seen when she’d gotten the flu that time. Cool, dry air whispered in her face, and she sniffed. Something beeped loudly, and she turned her head to find the source of the sound. The medical monitor showed a blinking, heart shaped red icon, and the alarm beeped again.The door opened, and a nurse appeared at her side. “Hey, you’re awake! How do you feel?” She was petite, with a round face and clear blue eyes that contrasted sharply with her Oriental features. She pushed a button on the monitor, and the alarm stopped. “Your heart monitor lead came loose,” she explained as she reached under Luisa’s gown and adjusted something sticky located just above her left breast. She leaned back a bit and peered into Luisa’s eyes. “How do you feel?”“I don’t really know.” Luisa’s brow furrowed. “Hungry?”The nurse laughed softly and straightened. “That’s good. Our hospital food is.
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