Gasp (Visions) Read Free Page A

answers. Ben hollers down the hallway to some guys toilet-papering the doorway to somebody else’s room. “Have you seen Clark?”
    They shrug and shake their heads. One holds his finger to his lips to quiet us, and points to the toilet paper.
    “Yeah, because no one else will notice what you’re doing there if we’re quiet,” Ben mutters, and I’m kind ofdigging his sarcasm, which we haven’t really seen before today. He looks at us. “I don’t know what to tell you. You can hang around and wait if you want.”
    I look at Trey and Sawyer, and then check the time. “We should go if we want to hit up the hospital tonight, guys.”
    Sawyer nods. “Yeah. Okay, thanks, Ben. We’ll have to come back later this week.” He grabs my hand and tugs, but I want to see what Trey does. Watching my big brother have a crush is the only fun I have in my life right now.
    Trey smiles at Ben. “Yeah, thanks. I, um, I left my jacket in your room . . .”
    I squelch a grin and Sawyer squeezes my hand, probably hoping I’ll behave. “We’ll go to the hospital and see if Tori is up to having visitors,” Sawyer says. “Meet you at the car in thirty minutes? I’m parked on Fifty-Seventh, in front of the bookstore.”
    Trey waves in acknowledgment.
    Sawyer drapes his arm over my shoulders and we walk down to the quad and then out to the street toward the hospital. When we get outside in the dark, he twirls my hair around his finger and smiles at me. “Five bucks says they’re making out in Ben’s room.”
    “Dogs, I hope so,” I mutter. I lift my chin and we kiss while we’re walking, and I feel like even though everything is such a mess, I can actually handle it because Sawyer’s here with me.

Six
    Tori is awake. It’s the first time she’s had her eyes open when we’ve visited her. She doesn’t know who we are, but her mom explains and introduces us—we’ve talked to her a few times before.
    Tori’s face is unmarred from the shooting. Her dark brown skin is flawless and beautiful. Her hair—a gorgeous mess of tiny black braids—undisturbed. Only her guts were ripped up, and the shreds sewn together. She still has tubes going into her arm—pain meds and antibiotics, her mom says.
    My mind flashes to the music room again. The black-and-white checkerboard floor streaked with red. Tori looking dazed, lying against the wall, holding her hand to her stomach as blood poured out between herfingers. . . . Gah. She was the most seriously hurt. I grab the back of a chair as a wave of nausea rides over me. Half the time I feel like I’m still in shock. Like one day, when this is all over, I really will need to be committed.
    It feels awkward, us knowing her but her not remembering us. I’m thankful for her mother, who has heard the story no doubt countless times by now from Ben, from us, from others who have visited.
    My cell phone vibrates in my jeans pocket, but I ignore it and focus on Tori. “How are you feeling?”
    “Terrible,” Tori says in a soft voice. “Mostly terrible.” She looks at her mom. “Sorry. I’m tired of saying I’m fine.”
    Tori’s mom shrugs and smiles. “Nothing wrong with telling the truth,” she says lightly. She turns to us. “It’s been very difficult.”
    “I’m sure it has,” I say. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”
    “So am I.” Her bottom lip trembles the slightest bit. “It sucks.”
    I reach out and rest my hand on her forearm, and she lets me keep it there. “I’m really sorry. What else is happening? Are you having any nightmares . . . or anything?”
    Sawyer leans in. “Jules and I have had some really weird side effects. Just mind tricks, I guess. The psychologist says it’s normal.”
    Tori narrows her eyes at the ceiling. “Nightmares, sure. I think the pain meds are messing with me.”
    I glance at Sawyer, and I can tell we’re wondering the same thing. “Every once in a while Sawyer was seeing a . . . like a vision, I guess.