Daddy says

Mrs. Patel’s knees nearly touched her chest as she sat on the miniature blue plastic chair. At the edge of the circle, Logan rocked back and forth on his heels, his hand stretching so high it threatened to detach from his arm. His eyes darted between Mrs. Patel and the construction paper hearts scattered across the tables, mouth twitching with barely contained information.

“Okay, Logan.” She smoothed her skirt, voice soft as a library whisper. “You wanted to tell us about Valentine’s Day?”

Logan’s entire body became a nod, his mop of brown hair flopping in his face. “Uh-huh. It’s all gone.”

Tommy’s mouth dropped open. Maria crushed her paper heart. Zoe stared.

Mrs. Patel’s hand froze mid-reach toward the glue stick bucket. “Gone?“

“Yeah.” Logan bounced on his toes. “Daddy says we can’t do it no more ’cause it makes people sad.”

The fluorescent lights hummed overhead as Mrs. Patel’s mind raced to process this proclamation, delivered with all the gravity of a breaking news report before snack time.

She leaned forward, the chair creaking beneath. “Makes people sad?”

Logan’s face scrunched up, his lower lip jutting out. His fingers twisted the hem of his dinosaur t-shirt. “Like... like when Tommy has a cookie? And I don’t got one? And my tummy feels all yucky looking at his cookie?”

Mrs. Patel’s chin dipped slowly. “Like snack time?”

“Yeah!” Logan’s arms waved everywhere. “But it’s hearts and stuff!” His fingers spread wide, then squeezed tight. “Some kids get lots and lots of hearts, and some kids don’t get any, and they cry and get mad and stuff. So now we got Friendship Day instead!”

The only sound was the gentle whir of the classroom hamster wheel.

Ethan’s eyebrows squished together, his crayon stopping. “But... but my mommy and daddy still do Valentine’s.”

Logan shrugged his shoulders. “That’s okay. Like... like...” His face pinched. “Like how some people got fish and some people got dogs. And both is okay.”

Mrs. Patel’s teeth caught her lower lip, her head tilting to one side.

She cleared her throat, voice climbing an octave. “So what do you do on Friendship Day?”

Logan jumped up and down. “It’s super cool! You pick your bestest friend and give them a hug! No yucky kissing—” he stuck out his tongue, and giggles erupted around the circle “—or fancy stuff that makes grownups all grumpy. Just friends!”

Mrs. Patel’s fingers drummed against her knee. “That sounds... kind of nice, actually.”

“Yeah!” Logan grinned, showing his missing front tooth. “Daddy says nobody’s sad on Friendship Day ’cause everybody’s got a friend!”

The classroom grew still, like the moment before snow falls. Twenty small faces turned inward, trying to understand.

“Move! That’s MY spot!” Jason lunged forward, both hands shoving Mia.

She toppled sideways onto the carpet.

“Jason!” Mrs. Patel’s voice snapped through the air.

Mia’s chin trembled. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks, darkening spots on her pink unicorn sweater.

Mrs. Patel’s eyes found the rainbow-shaped clock. 9:07 AM. One hand reached for the tissue box, the other for the behavior chart. So much for Friendship Day.