Max woke up early on Wednesday morning, blinking against the soft sunlight leaking through his curtains. For a moment he lay still, staring up at the ceiling, until his mind suddenly snapped awake with a jolt.
Today was invitations day.
He sat up quickly, rubbed his eyes, and hurried into his bathroom. After brushing his teeth and taking a warm shower, he dressed in his neatly ironed school uniform. As he buttoned the last button, he remembered something important.
The invitations.
He stepped out into the hallway and called loudly toward the kitchen, "Mum! Are the invitations ready? Because today is the day I'm giving them to my classmates."
His mom peeked her head out from behind the refrigerator door, looking more tired than usual but still smiling. "Yes, Max. They're ready."
"Where are they?" he asked.
"In my room," she answered.
Max hesitated at the doorway. He wanted to ask something important—something that had been bothering him since yesterday. "Mum… did you get any presents for my birthday?"
She raised an eyebrow, smirking playfully. "Maybe."
Max frowned. "Please tell me."
She laughed softly. "It can be a yes or a no. It's just a matter of time. You'll have to wait."
That answer irritated Max more than he expected. He felt heat rise in his chest—not anger at her, just frustration. It was his birthday, and he felt like his parents should be the first to get him something special. He said nothing, though. Instead, he walked into her room.
On her bed lay a neat stack of beautifully printed invitations. Max picked them up carefully, admiring the glossy paper and bold lettering. His mother had stayed awake all night printing and trimming them; he'd never guess, but she had.
He slipped the stack into his school bag, then collected the lunch she handed him. Moments later, he walked out to the limo where the driver smiled and opened the door for him.
The ride to school was quiet, but Max's head was full—full of birthday thoughts, full of excitement, full of questions.
When the limo pulled up in front of the school gate, Max grabbed his bag and rushed in. As soon as he entered the hallway leading to the classrooms, he saw his two best friends waiting for him.
Moses spotted him first. "Max! Are the invitations ready?"
Max nodded. "Yes."
Elliot stepped forward eagerly. "Where are they?"
"In my bag," Max replied.
Moses grinned. "So what are you waiting for? Aren't you going to give us ours now?"
Max shook his head. "I'm waiting for everyone to come. I want to share them all at once."
"Please give it to us now," Elliot begged, eyes wide.
"No," Max said firmly.
Moses tilted his head, watching Max carefully. "At least let us see it."
Max snapped without meaning to, "Why must you guys see it now?!"
Elliot blinked, surprised. "Max… why are you getting angry?"
Max closed his eyes and took a deep breath, calming himself. "My birthday is very close, and my parents said they didn't buy a present for me. They only decorated the house."
"Oh," Moses said softly. "Even if your parents don't give you anything, other people will."
Max nodded slowly. "I know other people will give me, but… from everybody, it should be my parents."
Elliot placed a hand on Max's shoulder. "I'm sure they will give you something. You just have to wait."
"That's what my mother said," Max replied, "but… maybe you're right."
Moses, sensing the tension was gone, said gently, "So, Max… can we see the invitations now?"
Max sighed, but this time with a small smile. "Sure. Let me bring them out."
He opened his bag, pulled out two invitations, and handed them to Elliot and Moses. Both boys examined them closely, flipping them over with impressed expressions.
When they finished, Moses asked, "Can we please keep them now?"
"Okay," Max replied.
Before either boy could put the invitations inside their bags, the bell rang sharply through the school.
Assembly.
Elliot and Moses stuffed their invitations into their pockets and the three boys walked out to the courtyard.
During assembly, the principal stepped onto the small platform and addressed the students. "Good morning, everyone. I want to inform you that the upcoming race competition will not be held on school grounds. Instead, it will take place at the community sports arena. All participants must arrive by 8:00 a.m. sharp if they do not want to miss their event."
A murmur spread through the lines of students.
"The preparations are complete," the principal continued. "We wish all participants the very best. Now, everyone may go to your classes."
Max felt excitement build in his chest. Everything was becoming real.
---
Back in class, Wednesday's lessons began immediately—Maths first, then Civics, with the teacher talking about citizenship and rights. Max enjoyed the topic, but it was hard to focus when he knew the whole class would soon have invitations in their hands.
During Study Hall, he kept glancing at his bag, making sure the invitations were still there.
When the bell for break finally rang, the entire class jumped up, ready to run outside. But Max stood up quickly and blocked the doorway.
"Wait! Nobody leave yet!"
Everyone froze.
Max reached into his bag and pulled out the stack of invitations. "I want to give these out first. And your parents are invited too."
There were excited murmurs and whispers. One by one, Max handed each classmate an invitation. Some thanked him politely, others smiled, and a few jumped with excitement.
After he finished, Max stepped aside. "Okay, you can go now."
The students rushed out of the classroom, laughing and talking about the upcoming party.
Max sat down to eat the food his mother packed. When he finished, he decided to take a few invitations to certain teachers he liked. He even walked to the principal's office to give one to the principal.
But when he handed the vice principal his invitation, the man sighed apologetically. "Max, I won't be able to attend your birthday."
"Why?" Max asked.
"I'll be busy that day."
"Is it the whole day?" Max asked again, hoping.
"Yes," the vice principal replied. "The whole day."
Max nodded politely. "Okay. I understand."
He took back the invitation and went back to class.
The rest of the afternoon passed with English, Art, then their lunch break, Maths and Science. Max found himself daydreaming about the race, picturing himself sprinting, imagining the finish line.
Finally, the closing bell rang.
Max grabbed his bag and hurried outside, spotting the familiar limo waiting at the curb. He climbed in and immediately started telling his mother everything—how he passed out invitations, how the vice principal couldn't come, and how the race location was announced.
Later at home, Max ate dinner quietly, watched TV, and read for twenty minutes just like he promised himself. But when he lay down in bed, his mind didn't rest.
All he thought about was the race.
And slowly… his eyes closed.