Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of a Thing of Happiness [Completed]

Act II, Scene III

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Iliana! Happy birthday to you!"
   
I laughed. It had been three months since the incident in Saudi Arabia. Marcus had rolled me into the JROTC room and, to my surprise, Carlisle Allen, Brayden Dockle, Louis Fischer, Patrick Dale, Toby Nolan, and Raymond Tiller all stood there, smiling and singing. So were my parents and Mary, along with Colonel Johnston and a high school boy that looked vaguely familiar, though not from school.
   
Dockle came up and gave me a hug. Then, he picked up a giant box and handed it to me.
   
"This is from all of us," he said. I looked up at Marcus, who squeezed my shoulder and placed a kiss on my forehead.
   
"Okay," I said with a nervous laugh. I unwrapped the bow and opened the box. "Oh my goodness!"
   
In the box was a pair of shiny silver prosthetic legs.
   
"They told us about what actually happened," Mary said. "About your legs."
   
"Oh, Mary, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. It was classified-!"
   
"Iliana, it's fine. My hair understands."
   
I chuckled as the lanky boy a few years older than me I had vaguely recognized came up and shook my hand. "My name is Calvin Dockle," he said. "He's my dad," he added, pointing at Dockle, who gave me a crooked smile. "I was one of the Marines you saved."
   
I smiled. "It was my honor."
   
A cake was laid out on the table. In black frosting on top of the American flag printed on the cake, they had written:

HAPPY 18TH BIRTHDAY TO OUR HERO!
   
I sobbed.
   
Four Months Later
   
I heard a gentle knock on the door of my new apartment. Pulling myself out of the chair I had been sitting in, I slowly staggered my way to the door.
   
"Coming!" I called out. "Unless you're the landlord, in which case I'm not home."
   
"Take your time, Ili."
   
I smiled; it was only Marcus. I managed to get to the door, and I flung it open to reveal him standing in the doorway, awkwardly holding a bouquet of roses. I squealed happily. He picked me up and carried me over to the couch. With a flourish, he set me down and flung the curtains open.

"Let's shed some light on the subject," he said with a wink. I rolled my eyes and flung a decorative pillow at him. Marcus laughed. "What do you want to eat?"

"Strawberry yogurt, please."

"Mmm, me too."

Seconds later, after rummaging through the fridge, Marcus came back into the living room carrying two cups of yogurt.

"Thanks, babe," I said, digging in. He picked up the newspaper sitting on the table and began reading it.

"Hey, Ili, look at this," he said, handing me the newspaper. I took it from him, reading the article he was pointing at.

LOCAL HERO BOUNCES BACK FROM TRAGEDY
Written by Chief Journalist Mary Dames
Iliana Fleming, who just recently turned 18 years old, received an indescribable gift for her birthday: hope. Just months ago, Iliana and a group of Marines rescued ten American hostages from a Saudi Arabian farmer. During the escape, however, Fleming lost both of her legs in an explosion. But for her birthday, the men she fought beside and the men she saved paid her back by purchasing the best pair of prosthetic legs money could buy. With the help and support of her loving boyfriend, Marcus Stewart, Iliana took her first steps in almost four months. We hope there are many more to come!   

I smiled. This is what friends are for.