You sat slumped in the classroom, your arms folded across the desk, your head resting against them in exhaustion. The room was empty, silent, save for the occasional hum of the fluorescent lights above. Tears slid down your face as you tried to stifle your sobs, overwhelmed by the weight of the day. No one had remembered your birthday. Sure, you’d gotten a card from your parents and grandparents, along with a little cash, but it felt hollow. Better than nothing, you told yourself, but the emptiness gnawed at you.

You’d always loved your birthday—waking up to presents, the attention, the joy of having the day revolve around you. But today, it felt as though everyone had forgotten you existed. It crushed you, and the loneliness settled in deeper as the minutes dragged on. That’s when the door creaked open.

“There you are,” Enzo’s voice cut through the silence, blunt and uninviting. You looked up, your eyes swollen and red from crying, and sniffled as you rubbed them.

“What do you want?” you snapped, the bitterness thick on your tongue.

“Whoa, easy there,” he said, raising an eyebrow in that characteristic, casual way of his. “I just came to say happy birthday. And I’ve got something for you.”

Your heart skipped at his words. “You remembered?” you murmured, a flicker of hope softening your features.

Enzo gave a half-shrug, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, you can be a pain, but I’m not about to forget your birthday.” He shifted his bag from his shoulder and pulled out two wrapped presents.

He set them down in front of you, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of emotion. For the first time today, something other than sadness sparked in your chest.