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...
The conference room on the second floor of the district offices looked exactly the same as it had when Jake had imagined it — fluorescent lighting, institutional carpet, a table that was slightly too large for the room.
Dr. Walsh was already seated when they arrived. She stood to greet them with the cordial expression of someone who had received a phone call from Evelyn Harper two days ago and had spent those two days recalibrating her position accordingly.
"Mrs. Harper," she said, shaking Judith's hand. "Mr. Harper." She looked at Jake. "And you must be Jake."
"Yes," Jake said.
Mr. Cisneros and Ms. Park were in their same seats. There was a fourth person today.
A man introduced as Mr. Donnelly from the superintendent's office, which had not been part of the original meeting and which Judith noted without comment.
They sat down.
Dr. Walsh opened her folder. "We've reviewed both evaluation reports thoroughly," she said. "Dr. Reeves' findings and Dr. Halpern's." She paused. "I want to say at the outset that the academic picture here is not in question. These are remarkable results, and I don't think anyone in this room is going to dispute that."
Judith had her notebook open but hadn't written anything yet.
"Our primary focus today," Dr. Walsh continued, "is making sure that whatever placement we approve is the right fit for Jake in every respect. Not just academically." She looked at Jake. "Which is why I'd like to talk to you directly for a few minutes if that's alright."
"Of course," Jake said readybfor whatever question was trown at him.
She looked at him with the careful expression of someone who had been told something extraordinary and was now seeing it for herself.
"Jake, why do you want to go to high school?"
He had thought about how to answer this.
Not the real answer, which was that third grade was professionally insulting for a reincarnated adult, but an answer that was true enough and appropriate enough to land well in this room.
"Because I want to learn things that are actually hard," he said. "I'm not trying to be rude about my school. Mrs. Patterson is a good teacher. But I already know what she's teaching, and I don't think that's going to change."
"What do you want to learn?"
"Advanced math, Physics, Chemistry." He paused. "Things I can use."
"Use for what?"
"Engineering." He was an engineer i his past life, it would be stupid not to exploit his knowledge.
Dr. Walsh wrote something. "Are you worried about being younger than the other students?"
"A little," he said, which was the correct amount of honesty. "But I think I'll be okay."
"Why?"
He considered this. "Because I'm not going for the social experience. I'm going to learn."
Ms. Park was smiling at her notepad again.
Mr. Cisneros leaned forward. "Jake, what do you do after school currently?"
"Read mostly and ride my bike."
"Do you have friends at Jefferson?"
"Not really." He paused. "I am friendly with most."
"But not a close friend."
"We don't have much in common."
Mr. Cisneros wrote something and sat back.
Dr. Walsh looked at her folder and then at Judith. "Mrs. Harper, I want to be transparent with you. Normally, a request of this nature would take considerably longer to process. The evaluations, the committee review, and the placement arrangements." She paused. "We've expedited the process given the exceptional circumstances."
"I appreciate that," Judith said evenly.
"We're prepared to approve high school placement for Jake beginning the first week of October at Van Nuys High School." She folded her hands. "With conditions."
"What conditions," Judith said.
"A district appointed academic counselor will meet with Jake weekly for the first year to monitor his adjustment. A review meeting in March to assess how the placement is working. The school will have discretion to modify his schedule if any concerns arise regarding his wellbeing."
Judith looked at the conditions written in her notebook. Then she looked up.
"The review meeting in March is fine. The counselor is fine." She paused. "The discretion to modify his schedule needs to be defined more specifically. I dont want to sign something that gives the school an undefined right to change my son's placement without our involvement."
A brief silence.
Mr. Donnelly from the superintendent's office, who had not said anything yet, leaned over and said something quietly to Dr. Walsh. She listened and nodded.
"We can add language requiring parental consultation before any schedule modifications," Dr. Walsh said.
"Thank you," Judith said, and wrote it down.
Dr. Walsh slid a document across the table. Judith read it in its entirety without rushing while everyone waited. She made two small notes in the margin and pointed them out to Dr. Walsh received confirmation and then signed it.
She passed it to Alan whose presence was almost intangible. He signed it and passed it back with the look of someone who had followed approximately seventy percent of what had just happened and was fine with that.
Dr. Walsh signed her copy and slid it across.
"Jake," she said. "Van Nuys High School. First week of October."
Jake nodded.
"Good luck," she said and meant it.
In the elevator, Alan loosened his tie and looked at Jake.
"Van Nuys High," he said. "How do you feel?"
Jake thought about October. Two weeks away. Two more weeks of Tyler and the number line and Madison's ongoing butterfly situation.
"Good," he said.
The elevator opened, and they walked out into the parking lot. Judith was already on the phone — calling the school directly, Jake assumed, to introduce herself to the principal before the district's paperwork even arrived.
Alan unlocked the car and looked at Jake over the roof.
"So, starting high school in two weeks, huh?" Said Alan somewhat awkwardly
"Thats what they said," Jake said.
"Im proud of son," said Alan with a mixture of complex feelings.
" Thank you, Dad."
Alan nodded philosophically and got in the car.
After arriving home, Judith cooked dinner for celebration.
Grilled salmon with mango-avocado salsa and lemon olive oil cake for dessert.
Jake brushed his teeth and changed into his pajamas.
Almost robotically, he had already gotten used to the early bedtime.
In his bed, he was watching his fist open and close with an unbelievable look.
The reason was that he wasn't doing it.
It was Argus.
Or rather the [Opening and closing hand] Module he just developed, and that was only the most surface thing he could do with the modules.
He apparently had 100 percent of the control of his nervous system through Argus.
Control heart rate and blood pressure on demand
Redirect blood flow, regulate body temperature actively, suppress or trigger adrenaline at will, slow metabolism, and more, and those are the ones he had discovered in two weeks.
There was much more he could theoretically do,always being careful of not damaging his body.
With that in mind he drifted into sleep.