Chapter 32

“They are merely scars, not mortal wounds, and you must use them to propel you forward.”
—Peter David, House of Cards

“A PARTY? Didn’t get enough of us for Valentine’s Day, did you?” Rachel teased. “I didn’t see any nice quiet make-out places in your house ... But, of course, I didn’t see your bedroom.”

“I have. There isn’t room for all five of us,” Beca said. Everyone turned to look at her.

“When did you see my bedroom?” I squeaked.

“Peyton showed it to me. Rad artwork on the wall, Bruh.”

“Well, it’s not like that anyway,” I said, trying to get back to the point. “I’d love a make-out party with all four ... or however many of you want to make out, but that’s not what this party is and my family will be there, too.”

“Sounds like a birthday party,” Desi said. “Are you turning sixteen?”

“Not till October. But it is kind of like that.” I heaved a sigh and sat back in my seat, lunch untouched. “You all know I was in an accident last August. You saw me come to school on crutches. But it was a lot worse than that.” Rachel reached up and stroked the scar on my right cheek, left by the cellphone. “Yeah. I had multiple fractures, a concussion, cuts—like my face—and was in a coma for three days. No one ever expected me to come out of it. My family was sitting around my bed waiting for the heart monitor to flatline.”

“Jesus, Jacob!” Beca cried. She grabbed my left arm in a death grip and started to cry.

“Right after you texted me your bid. I might have been the last one who talked to you in this life,” Desi said. Tears were running down her cheeks and Joan had wet eyes, too. I could feel the dampness from Rachel’s eyes on my right sleeve. She was right. She was probably the last one to have any interaction with V2.

“But,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “I didn’t die. I opened my eyes and felt like I’d just been reborn. Only I think it’s the mother who is supposed to go through all that pain instead of the baby. Or maybe, you know, the pain was my mother. Regardless, that was on August twenty-ninth. There are only twenty-eight days in February, so I’m calling Friday, March first as my six-month rebirthday. You’ve been more than my girlfriends since I got back to school. You’ve been my best friends. And I want you to come and celebrate with me.”

“And your family,” Rebecca nodded. “Will uh ... you know...”

“I’ve invited everyone who is important to me. My sisters, my mother and father, my physical therapist, Francie, my doctor, and you guys. There are a couple of teachers I’d like to invite, but I don’t think that’s allowed.”

“Are we really that important to you?” Beca asked, still holding my arm like I might somehow fly away.

“You’re the difference between life and death to me,” I said. “I mean that.”

It turned out that there was no school rule that prohibited a teacher from attending a party at the invitation of parents. Mom invited Ms. Stierwalt, Ms. Levy, Mr. Richards, and Jock. Em didn’t want to renew her relationship with Tony but told me I should invite Tony and Bill anyway. Less than twenty people for what I considered one of the most important days of my life. But as I thought back on it, these were all important people to me. I wondered if, when V1 was sixty, I could have named as many people who were important to me.

“So, you’re walking upright like a human instead of an ape,” Molly said as she walked around me and looked at my posture. “Not bad for the messed-up pile I first met here. You’re eating right and getting exercise?” I nodded to her. “Exercising the five-finger flute regularly?” she whispered.

“Molly!” I hissed. She could turn me as red as her Irish hair. “You could check to see if it’s working right,” I fed back to her.

“I could still pick you up and throw you across the room, boyo,” she laughed at me. “Now tell me why in a room of ... hmm ... fifteen, seventeen, twenty people I see only six males. Your fingers won’t get stronger if someone else is playing the instrument.”

“They will if you know how to strum the right chords,” I answered. This time, Molly blushed.

“Well, it is nice to see you looking so fit,” Doctor Jordan said. Damn, she looked fine. I determined that when I reached fifty this time, I’d be as fit as she was now.

“Thank you, Doctor Jordan. May I say, you look extraordinary. I never imagined that your scrubs concealed...”

“May I introduce my wife, Isabel,” she interrupted me. A woman just as beautiful as Doctor Jordan stepped up and offered her hand.

“Your wife?”

“Why do you think they allow me to treat teenage male patients?” Doctor Jordan laughed.

“Um ... Nice to meet you ... Mrs. Jordan,” I said.

“And lovely to meet you, too. Without betraying confidences, Del often told me about the remarkable young man who was struggling to regain his life. It is a pleasure to finally meet him.”

“The pleasure is mine,” I said, regaining my composure. Well, scratch that eighteenth birthday present.

As my girlfriends arrived, there was always one of them on my arm, though they never made a big deal about it. I just introduced them each as my girlfriend when we stopped to talk with someone. Mr. Richards caught up with me while Rebeca was on my arm.

“I trust your project is not interfering with your relationship,” he chuckled after introducing his wife.

“No, sir. We are really enjoying working on our project,” I said.

“This week’s videos are the last we are reviewing before compiling the data,” Beca said, even more enthused about the project than I was. “We need to put together a structure for presenting our results.”

“Don’t hesitate to set an appointment with me if you’d like some guidance,” he said. “This is a learning project. You are not expected to already know everything about what you are doing.”

“Thank you, sir. We’ll be putting together the sample outline next week and would appreciate your review before we start expanding on it,” Beca said.

We moved on and it happened that Rachel was on my arm when I made it to Ms. Stierwalt. I wondered if the girls were coordinating things a bit behind my back.

“Thank you for coming to the party, Ms. Stierwalt,” I said. “I hope your husband knew he was invited as well.”

“Oh, Jacob,” she smiled. “My husband has been singing with the heavenly choirs for five years now. Which is unfortunate for the celestial host as he was a terrible singer.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean...”

“We don’t bring life histories into the classroom,” she cut me off. “There is no way for you to have known and I do appreciate you thinking highly enough of me to offer the invitation. You are doing quite well and I’m happy that I agreed to take you on at mid-term. And you, young lady,” she said turning to Rachel, “have improved this term.”

“Jacob and I study together every weekend, ma’am,” Rachel said. “It’s really helped to have him go over the lessons with me.”

“Good. People seem to think that studying with each other is limited to more subjective courses like history and English. They often miss the benefits of group study in objective courses. You might consider adding Martin to your study group. He gets bored in class sometimes and completes his exercises to the minimum of his ability. He could use a little encouragement.”

There was a clinking of glasses and we all turned to where my dad was standing with his cellphone out.

“We have a tradition in our household of having a statement from the celebrant on his or her birthday,” he said. “We’ve decided to call this a celebration of Jake’s rebirth. Son, do you have a statement for us?” He tapped his phone and held it up to me like a microphone.

“Not really, Dad,” I sighed. He raised an eyebrow. “I’m just happy to have met or re-met or connected with such remarkable and supportive people since my accident. Thank you all for being my doctors, teachers, and friends.” Dad tapped off his recording.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” he said. I nodded and laughed with him.

As parties go, it was pretty low-key. I thought of at least three other people I should have put on the invitation list. I guess I didn’t itemize everyone. Mom and Dad had decided to let me worry about the teens who were invited and took it upon themselves to invite others of their generation who arrived not long before the party broke up. Rachel’s parents and little brother showed up. He was immediately captured into Pey’s orbit and she told him loudly how glad she was there was another person under fifty at the party. Joan’s mother showed up in very professional attire and didn’t seem to try and seduce anyone. I guess they were all too old.