Chapter 1

As the only day student in my class, I had spent three years picking up breakfast for my classmates every morning without ever charging a single penny for the errand.

That changed when a transfer student joined our class.

"Oh, my God… Don't tell me you've all been paying him full price this whole time. You guys have been stuck on campus so long you probably don't know this, but the food vendors outside always give a discount if an entire class places an order.

"I can't even imagine how much he's pocketed from the price difference over the past three years."

When he noticed the shocked looks on everyone's faces, he smiled and added, "How about this? From now on, just let me know what you want for breakfast. My uncle runs a breakfast truck outside the school, and he knows everyone along the strip.

"I'll pick it up for you at the discounted price. I'm not trying to make money. I just want to make some friends."

When I heard that, I let out a quiet sigh of relief.

What he didn't know was that I'd long since grown sick of waking up two hours early every morning just to buy everyone's breakfast, endure coming back reeking of food, and putting in all that effort only to end up completely unappreciated.

Chapter 1 The New Transfer Student

The new transfer student was named Zachary Sussman. He had joined our class just last week and sat by the window in the third row.

He had made friends with everyone on his very first day. He had a silver tongue, called everyone by a funny nickname, and possessed the effortless charm of a social butterfly who could make friends anywhere.

I was handing out everyone's breakfast that morning when I suddenly heard him speak up from the back of the classroom.

"Hey, I did the math just now. That cafe outside the school charges eight dollars for a bowl of brown sugar oatmeal if you buy it individually, but it's only six-fifty if the whole class orders together.

"You guys haven't been letting someone pocket the difference this whole time, have you?"

His voice wasn't particularly loud, but it carried just enough for the entire class to hear.

I could feel the way everyone's eyes shifted toward me almost immediately after he said those words.

The bell rang before anyone could say anything.

I swallowed the explanation that had been at the tip of my tongue. As a result, I couldn't focus on a single word the math teacher was saying in the next period. My mind kept replaying Zachary's accusation.

Pocket the difference?

Please, I'd been doing this for free for the past three years!

Back in the first year, our class representative had pointed out that I was the only student who commuted from home. Since boarding students weren't allowed to leave campus whenever they wanted, she'd asked if I could help pick up breakfast for everyone.

I'd felt bad saying no, so I agreed.

Initially, it had only been two or three people.

Then, five.

Then, ten.

Eventually, it escalated into me bringing breakfast for more than 50 classmates every morning.

In the end, I had to get up at 4 a.m. every single day, ride my bike for 15 minutes to the commercial strip outside the school, and stand in line at one breakfast shop after another. I would place orders for oatmeal, bagels, breakfast burritos, pastries, and even sandwiches.

Even worse, every order came with its own special requests. Some would ask for no onion, another would ask for extra hot sauce, and some would demand that it still had to be warm or crispy when it got to them.

They piled on so many different requests, but they only ordered small quantities from each shop. Hence, there wasn't a single vendor willing to offer the kind of discount Zachary had been talking about. The only option was for me to queue up at each store myself and pay full price.

It took me at least two hours just to buy everything. However, not once in those three years had I ever charged anyone an errand fee. In fact, I would even go out of my way to cover the difference out of my own pocket when classmates didn't have enough money.

Yet, all it took was a few words from Zachary to turn three years of my thankless effort into "profiting off the price difference."

'Ding!'

My phone suddenly pinged with the notification of the class group chat.

The group had originally been created by our class representative for school announcements, but over time it had gradually become the place where everyone submitted their breakfast orders to me.

I scrolled to the top and saw Zachary's latest message.

"Hey, everyone! I just confirmed it with my uncle. Every vendor on the commercial strip is willing to give us a group discount! Oatmeal is $6.50, breakfast burrito combos are $7.00, and if we order a whole batch from the bagel shop, each bagel comes out to just $1.20.

"They're about 30 to 50 cents cheaper than buying them individually. Just drop your orders here from now on. My uncle will help place them; they'll be delivered to the school gate the next morning, and I'll just run downstairs to pick them up.

"I'm not making any money off this. I just want to help everyone save some."

He even finished the message with a cute cat sticker.

The group chat stayed silent for a few seconds before our class representative replied, "Really? That's such a good deal! Connor used to charge me eight dollars for a bowl of oatmeal. I thought that was just what it cost."

Madeline Zeller quickly chimed in, "No wonder Connor was always so eager to pick up breakfast for everyone. Turns out there was money to be made after all!"

Chapter 2 A Burden Finally Lifted

"Maybe he wasn't making a profit,' someone tried to smooth things over. "Maybe it was just… an errand fee?"

Zachary replied almost instantly, "I never said Connor was making money. I'm just giving everyone a cheaper option. You guys can order through me from now on. Again, I'm not doing this for profit."

Then, he ended the message with an innocent winking cat sticker.

I stared at the screen without typing a single word.

A moment later, the class representative tagged me. "Connor, I won't be troubling you anymore. I'll start ordering through Zachary."

Madeline chimed in immediately after, "I'm switching to Zachary, too. His offer is so much cheaper."

More and more classmates began tagging me.

I didn't argue but simply replied, "Okay."

If they truly believed that Zachary's proposal was cheaper and more convenient, why should I try to stop them?

My deskmate, Dawn Zobel, lightly nudged my elbow. "Connor… are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I smiled.

And I truly was. I couldn't have been happier to stop buying breakfast for everyone. I'd just never known how to turn everyone down without my guilty conscience screaming at me.

I'd been sacrificing my own time to pick up breakfast for everyone for three years. As a result, it has caused my grades to fall into a steady decline. Heck, I'd fallen from the top 50 in the entire grade in last month's assessment when I first entered high school all the way down to 230th.

My homeroom teacher had summoned me to his office and asked, "Campbell, your grades have dropped a lot. Is something going on at home?"

I told him no.

He sighed before continuing, "You're a senior now. It's time to buckle down. Otherwise, you won't even qualify to take the college recommendation exam.”

I couldn't bear to tell him the truth that helping my classmates with their breakfast orders had eaten away at both my sleep and my study time.

Every morning, I'd find myself exhausted after waking up two hours early while everyone else enjoyed breakfast and came to class refreshed. I spent my lessons fighting to stay awake and barely absorbed anything the teachers said.

When class finally ended, everyone else either put their heads down for a quick nap or worked through practice problems. Meanwhile, I had to pull out my notebook and go from desk to desk, asking what each person wanted for breakfast the next morning.

After I got home at night, I still had to spend at least another 30 minutes organizing everyone's orders and planning which shops I should line up at first to max out on efficiency.

I'd been keeping this song and dance up for three years, and I'd never told anyone that I was keeling over.

That was because I knew it wouldn't have mattered.

They would only have said, "Nobody held a knife to your throat and made you do it. You could've just stopped taking so many orders."

And they would've been right.

I just hadn't known how to refuse without feeling weirdly guilty about it.

Fortunately, Zachary had shown up.

I stopped looking at the group chat and turned my phone face down on my desk.

…

During the break after the first period, our class representative came over and patted me on the shoulder. "Connor, Zachary's delivery might've been a little blunt, so don't take it personally. Still, everyone wants to save money.

"Maybe you could find a group discount too… or lower the amount you're making on the price difference?

"If you can beat his prices, we'll still order from you. You've been buying breakfast for everyone for three years, after all. We trust you."

I looked at her for five full seconds before simply answering, "No thanks."

I'd finally managed to shuck this burden off my shoulders. Why would I waste my energy picking it back up?

She paused for a moment before nodding. "Okay. Oh, and don't you still have everyone's breakfast money that they left with you? You should refund it as soon as possible so they can pay Zachary instead."

I nodded.

I swiftly opened the notes on my phone. Then, I checked each balance one by one and returned every dollar my classmates had left with me in advance.

Finally, I would never have to buy breakfast for them ever again.

I did the math.

From now on, I could sleep at least one extra hour every morning. I no longer had to spend 30 minutes every evening collecting and organizing everyone's breakfast orders.

Instead, I could use that time to review math, or memorize Spanish vocabulary, or do absolutely nothing except get a full night's sleep!

I couldn't help but let out a long, slow breath as I leaned against my chair. The burden I'd been carrying for three years had finally been passed on to someone else.

Meanwhile, the group chat was buzzing with excitement.

"Zachary, you're an angel! I just did the math. Saving two bucks a day adds up to more than 40 dollars a month!"

"I just walked past the school gate. Your uncle's breakfast truck is huge! He's got everything!"

Chapter 3 Finally Getting Some Sleep

"Finally, we don't have to ask Campbell to buy breakfast anymore. Honestly, I was never happy with it anyway. His prices were way too high."

That particular message came from Rachel Turner.

She'd asked me to pick up a breakfast burrito for her five different times in that one month alone. She'd told me to "add an extra egg" every single damn time, but she'd only ever paid me the price of the regular one.

I'd never said a word about it.

I scrolled through the messages one by one, my expression impassive.

Meanwhile, Zachary was busy flooding the group chat with a neatly organized price list.

"'Oatmeal, regular price $8, group price $6.50; breakfast burritos, regular price $9, group price $7; bagels, regular price $1.50, group price $1.20; pastries, regular price $7, group price $5.50."

He'd added two columns labeled "Campbell's Original Price" and "Sussman's Group Price" right next to every item. He'd even highlighted the difference in red.

A few of the math whizzes in class immediately started doing the calculations.

"If everyone's saving about two bucks a day, that makes 60 dollars a month, over 700 a year, and more than 2,000 over three years!"

"There are over 30 people in our class ordering breakfast. Doesn't that mean Connor made more than 60 thousand dollars over the past three years?"

"More than 60 thousand? That's such a rip-off!"

I read every message without offering an explanation.

I didn't do it because I was being magnanimous, but because I knew nothing I had to say would matter.

They wouldn't listen or believe me.

Instead, they'd only say things like…

"Why would you even do it if there's nothing in it for you? You would've quit ages ago."

"Exactly. Besides, it's still not our fault even if you didn't make any money out of this."

"You could've just charged us an errand fee. If you choose not to, then that's on you."

They were right. It had been my choice. So now, I was done.

…

Zachary sent me a private text that evening. "Camps, you're not upset with me, are you? I wasn't targeting you. I just don't think classmates should have to pay extra. Oh, by the way, could you send me everyone's breakfast preferences? It'll make it easier for me to organize the orders."

He ended the message with a thank you emoji.

I stared at the message and typed a reply. "If you're already so close with everyone, why not ask them yourself?"

I stared at it for a beat. Then, I deleted that text before I could send it.

Forget it.

There was no point.

Instead, I sent him the breakfast preference list I'd spent years putting together.

Three minutes later, he replied with a string of question marks, and then, "Camps, these notes are incredibly detailed! You've got everyone's favorite oatmeal, whether they want onion or hot sauce, or how each person likes their breakfast burrito or bagel…

"This is way too much. My uncle handles orders in bulk. There's no way he'd sort through requests this specific. And these orders are all over the place… One wants oatmeal, another wants a breakfast burrito.

"There's no way to place a group order like this. You'd have to buy everything one shop at a time."

A moment later, he added, "You didn't make these notes just to mess with me, did you?"

I froze.

Mess with him?

But…

This was exactly how I'd spent the last three years. I'd worked myself to the bone just to please them, but I still ended up with nothing but complaints.

That was the story of my life in this class.

I never replied to Zachary. Instead, I set my phone beside my pillow, turned off the light, and went to sleep.

I was asleep by 9.30 p.m. that night, and it was the earliest I'd gone to bed ever since I first started high school.

…

My alarm went off the next morning.

My eyes flew open to stare at the clock.

It was 6 a.m. I'd actually slept until 6 a.m., a full two hours longer than usual.

Morning study period had only just begun by the time I arrived at the classroom.

Dawn looked at me with wide eyes. "Connor, you look so full of energy today!"

I smiled at her, happier than I'd been in a long time.

Of course, I looked more energetic. I hadn't gotten up at 4 a.m. to buy breakfast and spent an hour after 10 p.m. organizing everyone's breakfast orders. I'd finally gotten enough sleep.

That day, I stayed focused through all four of my morning classes. I didn't doze off once or zone out, or spend every 10-minute break collapsed on my desk trying to catch up on sleep. I even raised my hand and answered one of the math teacher's questions.

The teacher looked at me and nodded approvingly.

Chapter 4 Fourteen Days Later

"Great form today, Campbell. Keep this up, and you'll do very well on next week's qualifying exam."

I nodded firmly. "Yes, sir. I'll work hard."

…

That evening, I pulled out every math paper I'd taken over the past month and started correcting my mistakes one problem at a time during the self-study period.

I'd never had time to do that in the past.

After all, it would be nearly 11 p.m. or even midnight by the time I got home from school and finished organizing everyone's breakfast orders for the next day.

So, reviewing my mistakes after class? Hell, that had never been an option.

But things were different now. The extra hour I gained every morning could go toward memorizing Spanish vocabulary, and the energy I had left during evening study sessions could be spent on solving practice problems.

For the first time in a long while, I actually felt like an ordinary high school senior instead of a pack mule whose only purpose was buying breakfast for everyone else.

…

Zachary began posting videos of his morning pickups in the group chat every day for the next few days.

"Look, everyone! Today's oatmeal is here! My uncle picked it up first thing this morning! And here's the breakfast burrito haul! Doesn't it look delicious?"

In the videos, the breakfast burritos had spent the entire trip sealed inside plastic bags. The tortillas had gone limp from the trapped steam, and the crispy filling inside had turned into a soggy lump.

I didn't say a word.

After all, none of that had anything to do with me now. Plus, I wasn't eating the breakfasts Zachary brought.

…

On the 14th day after Zachary took over handling the breakfast orders, someone in class surreptitiously created a new group chat without him. When Dawn added me to it, people were already talking.

"Has anyone else noticed that the breakfast burritos aren't crispy by the time we get them?"

"The oatmeal isn't warm either. It's completely cooled by the time it arrives. It almost tastes like it's been sitting overnight."

"My bagel was hard as a rock. It definitely tastes like it'd been sitting around for days."

"And did you notice? His uncle just owns an ordinary food truck. He's not some 'major supplier' that every vendor on the strip knows."

"I haven't had a decent breakfast in days. If this keeps up, I'm going to bomb the qualifying exam."

Dawn tagged me. "Connor, you've dealt with those vendors for years. What do you think? Are these breakfasts actually okay?"

I leaned back against my chair and took a languid sip of water before replying. "I have no idea. I don't buy breakfast anymore."

And I was telling the truth.

I'd been eating home cooked meals ever since I stopped buying breakfast for everyone else.

My mother had been over the moon. She was delighted that I'd finally seen the light and learned to have breakfast at home. Now, she would make something different every morning just to encourage me to stick to my new habit.

A moment later, Dawn texted me privately. "Connor… should I talk to the class rep? Maybe we can ask you to start buying breakfast for everyone again. You always did such a good job. Spending an extra dollar or two per person isn't exactly unaffordable."

"No." I rejected the idea immediately. "They think Zachary's better, so they can keep ordering from him."

I'd only just managed to get rid of that burden. Like hell I was taking it back.

"But…"

I quickly cut her off, "Dawn, the qualifying exam is tomorrow. I need to turn in early."

I got no response from her for a full minute before she finally sent me a good-night sticker.

I put down my phone without replying.

As I flipped through my notebook of corrected mistakes, the notebook I used to keep track of everyone's breakfast orders slipped into view. Soon, my eyes fell on three years' worth of notes.

"Ethan Dreyer: no onion, extra hot sauce."

"Madeline Zeller: thick oatmeal, not runny."

"Rachel Turner: add two eggs to her breakfast burrito but she only pays for one."

Every entry was neatly recorded.

I'd bought breakfast for them for three full years, but not once had I received a simple thank-you from one of them. To them, my act of kindness had become something they took for granted.

I tore that page from the notebook, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into the trash.

I let out a long breath as I looked at my now significantly less cluttered desk.

My life had become so much easier ever since I stopped buying their breakfasts, and my grades had started climbing again. Tomorrow's qualifying exam was just around the corner, and I was confident I could ace it this time around.

Just as I was about to put my phone away and go to sleep, it suddenly began vibrating nonstop. Everyone in the group chat without Zachary started tagging me.

"Connor, help!"