The Mysterious Case of the Allbright Academy by Diane Stanley

sickroom.”
    â€œSorry.” Brook was staring daggers at Prescott.
    â€œGuys,” Cal said. “Prescott has a point. What I did was reckless—which strikes me as weird, because I’m not usually a risk taker. There was something very complicated and interesting and psychological going on. I’ll get back to you when I figure it out. Okay, Prescott?”
    â€œYeah,” he said. “Do that. Because, you know what, Cal? You might have died. And believe it or not, I care what happens to you.”
    Â 
    Two and a half weeks after she went into the hospital, Cal came back to Allbright—but not to Larkspur Cottage. She had to spend several more weeks recovering in the infirmary. That carried her right through Christmas and into the New Year, which meant we didn’t get to spend the holidays together, as we had planned. I was really sorry about that,though it wasn’t entirely bad. For one thing, with the week-and-a-half-long winter break, Cal wouldn’t be missing quite so many classes as she would have if she’d gotten sick in, say, February. And since I didn’t have Cal as my houseguest, I was able to use the free time to get ahead on my schoolwork and do some advance studying for midterms.
    Mr. Fiorello hadn’t been around for Christmas either. As soon as Cal was out of the hospital, he’d flown back to Goristovia—and her happiness went with him. Now Cal was a total mess, like she’d been when I first met her.
    I discovered this when school started up again and Brook and I went over to the infirmary to see her. It turned out to be a very unpleasant visit. I wasn’t used to being around that much negative emotion. Allbright kids are a cheerful bunch, and you kind of get used to it. Everybody’s pleasant all the time. It’s really nice. So to suddenly be with someone who’s absolutely miserable and who inflicts their pain on you—well, it’s really uncomfortable. As Dr. Gallow has pointed out in his lectures, everybody has problems in life, but what’s the point of dwelling on them? And really—isn’t it just good manners to keep your misery to yourself?
    Much as I loved Cal, I really felt she needed to pull herself together and stop moping. Develop a more positive outlook on life, so that people wouldn’thate being in the same room with her.
    Of course, I didn’t say any of this to her. She was still recovering from a terrible illness, and I figured I ought to cut her some slack. Unfortunately, I couldn’t think of anything else to say, and since Brook was unusually quiet and Cal was depressed and withdrawn, we were stuck with this really awkward silence. It was awful. Somebody had to say something.
    Finally, spotting a pile of books on the table, I said, “Oh! So you’re starting to get caught up on your schoolwork. That’s great!”
    â€œYeah,” Cal said. “I have a tutor who comes by in the mornings and works with me. Mr. Canaday. He’s really nice.”
    â€œGreat! I should have known that Allbright would do something like that, give you a private tutor. Isn’t this an amazing school? We’re so incredibly lucky—”
    â€œYeah, but to be honest, I’m kind of not in the mood for schoolwork right now.”
    â€œReally?” I was shocked. “Why not?” She had missed so much school, she was so far behind. If it had been me, I would have been frantic by this point. “Don’t you want to get caught up? You have all this time, sitting around in the infirmary. You shouldn’t waste it doing nothing.”
    â€œI’m doing something. I’m thinking.”
    â€œNever too late to try something new,” Brook said, managing to be funny and at the same time move the conversation away from gloom and doom. He’s better at that sort of thing than I am.
    â€œTrue,” Cal said, not cracking a smile. She seemed to be studying an