Jeff and Lauren were, without a doubt, the most unpopular kids at Metropolitan Elementary School. All their classmates hated them.
It wasn't hard to see why. Jeff and Lauren went to school every day in a private jet. The other kids went to school in limousines. They were rich, but still jealous of how crazy-rich Jeff and Lauren were.
So, when Jeff and Lauren wheeled an enormous chocolate cake into the cafeteria one Tuesday morning, the entire school fell silent.
It was, objectively, a magnificent cake. Six tiers tall. Gold leaves are scattered on every layer. The frosting alone smelled like something from a dream.
The room stayed quiet for a long moment.
Then, one by one, kids began to turn their backs.
They had all made a promise, you see. A quiet, unspoken promise. We don't take anything from Jeff and Lauren. Not until they throw away their private jets.
For a while, it held.
Kendall crossed her arms and looked at the wall.
Connor studied his shoelaces.
Hudson pulled out a book he wasn't reading.
Hunter whispered something to the girl next to her, and they both looked away.
But then, the frosting smell drifted across the room again.
Sabrina took one small step forward. Just one. Then another.
Kylie glanced around to see if anyone was watching, then drifted toward the cake like she was just passing by.
Benito told himself he was only going to look at it up close.
Blake said she'd have just a sliver. Barely a bite, really.
Heidi thought, “Well, I did skip breakfast.”
Eileen thought, “This changes nothing. I still don't like them.”
Lena said nothing. She just ate.
Rose posted a photo of the cake online with a caption that said complicated feelings about this. And then she ate two slices.
Olivia arrived late. Everyone was already eating, and she thought, “This should be fine.”
Seth reasoned that the cake was already there. Not eating it would be wasteful.
Sarah told herself it was actually a form of protest, to take the cake and give Jeff and Lauren nothing in return. Not even a thank you.
Anna was the last. She had held out the longest. She stood the firmest. She said the most.
And then she picked up a fork.
Jeff and Lauren watched from the corner of the cafeteria, trying to hide their smiles. They didn't say I told you so. They didn't need to.
Because by the end of the day, the cake was gone.
And tomorrow, the teachers would walk through those school doors knowing exactly what their students were worth.
The price of one chocolate cake.