Page 1 of The Mastermind

PROLOGUE

REMINGTON

“I’ll be hangingwith Grayson and Royce after school,” I lied, grabbing a blueberry muffin from the kitchen island. “We’re working on a school project. I’ll be back on Saturday.”

My dad, stepmom, and stepbrother sat behind the marble island with eyes on their cell phones and tablet. No one replied to my comment as they sipped coffee, drank juice, and nibbled on muffins and waffles. I could move in with my friend’s family, and they probably wouldn’t even notice my absence.

I slipped on my backpack and headed out the front door.

“Don’t you want to wait for a ride to school?” Dad asked.

“Nah, I’m going to walk. It’ll save you time since you have to drop off Brian.”

I attended a private high school two blocks from my home, while my stepbrother went to a different private school where one of his mom’s friends worked. She never asked if I wanted to switch schools. I didn’t but the offer would have been appreciated.

“Don’t forget your chores when you get home,” Mallory said with a forced smile. I hated her fakeness. When Dad wasn’t around, my stepmom transformed into a witch.

Ignore her.

“I’ve got a pile of dirty laundry if you need something to do,” Brian said before shoving a piece of waffle into his mouth. I hoped he choked on it. At seventeen, he was two years older, but he was the most irresponsible, spoiled brat I’d ever known, and I knew quite a few from school.

“I’m not your slave. I have a big science project in the shoe box next to my hamper. Don’t touch it.” Leaving the house, I smirked. I couldn’t wait to come back and see Brian’s face all red from a rash.

You see, Brian thought he was smarter than me. I knew what buttons to push so he’d do exactly what I wanted of him. If he were a decent person—which he wasn’t—he’d leave my stuff alone, but he enjoyed messing with me. I had a surprise waiting for him when he opened the box—poison ivy and poison sumac were gifts for troublemakers who didn’t respect people’s things. I also made sure my deck of magic cards was lathered with poison ivy.

A bully gets what he deserves.

Hey, it was his fault for not listening to my warning. I wasn’t lying when I said it was a “science project.” Everyone heard it.

Instead of walking to school, I took the city bus to downtown Providence. It was Friday, the day I played hooky. There were two weeks left until summer vacation, and the teachers didn’t care. I didn’t have any major exams, and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter. I was already enrolled at Yale for the upcoming fall semester.

I took up two seats on the city bus, one for my backpack. A few dudes dressed in jeans and T-shirts sat in the back. Taking out my black journal, I reviewed the intricate plan for my future.

As the bus moved, I stared up at the top floor of the brick building that overlooked the Waterplace Park, where the annual WaterFire event took place. I used to see people standing outside on the balcony looking down. It must have been awesome to view the braziers on the river from up there.

When the bus stopped, I hopped off and wove my way through crowds of people going about their day. Passing a couple of guys eating hotdogs for breakfast in the street, the guy with the huge scar, that slashed from his forehead down to his cheek, met my eyes and nodded. I’d seen him a few times when I skipped school to meet up with my friends.

I nodded in return and went on my way, heading to The Church of Compassion. No one paid attention to me, probably thinking I was a college kid. At fifteen years old, I was already six feet tall, taking after my dad’s height.

“Yo, wait up!” Grayson rushed up to me and smacked my back. The same age, he had short black hair and stood two inches shorter.

He attended a rival private school. Last year, we bonded during a basketball game when my school lost to his by twenty points.

“I made a map of our world.” Grayson tapped his red backpack.

It sounded weird but my video game buddies had become my second family. They understood me.

“Let me see how your drone turned out.” Grayson stopped at a bench and dug into his backpack. “I modified mine a few days ago from a video on YouTube.”

Grayson’s red drone had black designs and looked like an abstract spider.

I took my silver drone out of my bag. I’d spent a lot of money buying the best parts, including taking online classes to improve the design and functionality, but it was well worth it, though. I’d saved money from my side job—a job I’d learned from watching my dad trading stocks and bonds. I was an excellent observer and grasped concepts easily. My dad didn’t see it that way.

Stop paying for video games. You’re wasting your life. I need you to focus on your academia.My dad’s words rang in my mind as I watched my drone soar in the bright sky.

I am focusing on my academics.I built this drone that would help me build my empire.

“Video games are for losers,” my hypocrite-asshole stepbrother had said. I’d caught him several times playing video games—among other things—in the middle of the night.

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