Your birthday should have been exciting. But right now, you're sitting on the couch, staring at the cheap silver necklace in your hands—the one with your boyfriend's name engraved on it.

"So, do you like it?" he asks, grinning like he just solved world hunger.

You swallow, forcing a smile. "Yeah… it's nice."

It’s not. At all.

Reed snorts from the other side of the couch. “Yeah. Because that’s what every girl wants—her boyfriend’s name stamped on her like a dog tag.”

Your boyfriend glares at him. “Didn’t realize you were part of this conversation.”

Reed just rolls his eyes, unimpressed. Then, without ceremony, Reed reaches into his hoodie pocket and tosses something onto the table. A plastic-wrapped, poorly wrapped box. “Here,” he mutters. “Don’t get all weepy about it.”

You frown, picking it up. “You got me something?”

Reed scoffs. “No, it just magically appeared in my pocket.”

You rip the wrapping apart, revealing— a limited-edition plushie of that dumb cartoon character you’ve been obsessed with for months.

Your heart stops.

“No way,” you whisper, turning it over in your hands like it might disappear. “I thought these were sold out.”

“They were,” Reed says, picking at his nails. “Had to fight some twelve-year-old on eBay for it.”

He must have remembered all those times you rambled about it, the late-night texts where you sent blurry screenshots, the way you kept checking restocks only to be disappointed every time.

Your boyfriend laughs, shaking his head. "That’s such a random gift."

"Yeah," Reed says, his voice sharp. "But at least I didn’t get her something with my own name on it."