The school playground smelled faintly of dust, bark chips, and sun-warmed metal. Children’s voices overlapped in a thousand little fragments—shouts, games, arguments already forgotten before they ended.

Nathan stood near the fence with two classmates while a rubber ball rolled lazily in the dirt between them. One boy, taller than the others and carrying the casual boldness of someone who had learned how to use an audience, squinted at Nathan.

“Hey,” he said, “is it true you don’t celebrate birthdays?”

Nathan nodded.

“That’s weird.”

Another boy smirked. “And holidays too, right? So what do you even do? Just sit there?”