MasukMonday Morning – Rooseville Academy
The bell echoed through the room, quieting the whispers of students as they filtered into the science classroom. Shylie Reed slipped in quietly, her movements graceful, but relaxed. She carried no laptops or flashy gizmos this time. Instead, her satchel was light, home to neatly taken notes and printed data sheets. The others in the class turned to look at her as she moved purposefully to the front of the room. Murmurs. She had just left the Tan home, word already spreading about the new alliances she had made, the air around her now so threateningly thick.
She could feel eyes on her, staring. It didn't phase her. It wasn't about being seen. It was about being understood, and they would understand soon enough.
She took her seat at the front, back straight, her mind already chewing over the numbers in front of her. The humming of the overhead projector filled the space, and the teacher's voice sliced through the charged air.
"Today, we begin our group-based environmental science project," the teacher said, cycling through slides on the overhead projector. "Pair off and start generating some solutions."
Before anyone had a chance to open a notebook, Darren Tan slid into the seat beside her. He carried a heavy ring binder, the "heavy-hitter" of his school supplies for the day.
"Morning," he said, grinning sideways at her.
"Morning," Shylie said back, not looking up as she flipped through her papers.
"So… we're going to save the world today?" he whispered, his voice low and conspiratorial.
Shylie flicked her gel pen between her fingers, rolling it idly in her hand. "Always."
She could feel his eyes on her. Darren's gaze lingered on her, trying to take in what she was, what she had become. And that, in and of itself, was fascinating.
The brainstorming began. Ideas were tossed back and forth, some more formed, others not so much, but all bearing the same heft of ambition Shylie had come to associate with Darren Tan.
Rooftop solar panels. Adoption of new materials to drive down cost. Automated recycling systems, microprocessors and all. A database data hub for ecological information. Sketches were made, terms thrown about in short-hand, Shylie rapidly scrawling out notes in the language she only really understood.
Darren, who usually relished in flashier mediums, seemed entranced by her methods. "I'll need you to show me that shorthand of yours later," he said, peering over at her rapid doodles.
Shylie smirked, raising her head enough to catch his eye. "Teaching" would have to go on her to-do list.
That night, after most other students had already hit their dorm rooms, Shylie sat at her desk, in the harsh fluorescence. Papers were strewn about, alongside boxes of floppy disks. Each one contained a vital piece of information.
The dorm room landline jangled, a shrill note in the quiet.
She grabbed up the receiver.
"Got a minute?" Darren's voice was a scratch over the line.
"Go ahead," she said, not looking up from the papers in front of her.
"I talked to Uncle Elias. He was impressed with what you had this morning. He wants you to swing by and drop off the printed slides. He may have some thoughts for you."
Shylie paused, taking in what she was hearing. Elias Tan, the reclusive patriarch of the Tan family, wanted to see her? She knew it was bad form to interrupt Elias, to do anything other than wait for him to summon her. For Elias to summon her, she knew the meaning of that was obvious. This project was more than schoolwork now. Elias had seen her, and that meant the game was on.
"Understood," she said, her voice steady despite the thrill she felt racing through her. "I'll bring the slides."
Thursday rolled around, and Shylie found herself at the Tan estate once again. This time, she wasn't just a houseguest. This time, she was a player. Elias Tan's study was a room overflowing with books, but it was the antiseptic air of calculated intellect that truly captured the space.
She and Darren were deep in conversation, perusing the printed slides, charts, data projections, environmental impact assessments. Elias came in mid-sentence, his presence quiet but domineering.
He leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, surveying both of them like a hawk. "Your projections for solar viability are a little optimistic," he said, his voice steady, but hard.
Shylie held steady. "I have sources," she said, "international journals, top-tier engineering trials. We are pushing for five year adoption windows."
Elias's jaw clenched. He narrowed his eyes. "Bold. Don't mistake hope for a plan."
Shylie met his eyes unflinchingly. "I do not."
There was a pause. A settling. Elias didn't move, but the way he looked at her, and the way he sized her up, made it clear: Elias Tan was not a man who believed in coincidence. He saw something in her. Dangerously something.
The next day, at school, the whispers grew louder. News of Elias's involvement was the talk of the school. Shylie had become a different kind of player in the eyes of her peers. She was no longer just a talented girl. She was someone with power. She was someone who was being molded by the Tans themselves.
Darren caught up to her in the hallway between classes, and gave her a sidelong glance. "He didn't rip you to shreds, did he?"
Shylie smiled thinly. "He sharpened my edges."
He nodded thoughtfully. "Glad I'm on your side."
She gave him a brief, approving nod. Their partnership was already strong. But now? It was becoming something more, unspoken, but powerful.
As the Spring Showcase came closer, the energy around the school grew. Buzzing. Excited. Nervous. For Shylie, however, this was just another step in a process that had been building for months.
Tension between her and Leah was palpable. Leah's cold, steely gaze seemed to have become even icier since Shylie had made her foray into senior-club social circles.Shylie's quiet confidence had become a threat to Leah's perch on the throne.
One day, during the passing period, Leah found her. Her hand came to rest on Shylie's shoulder, the touch smooth, but false.
"I hear you're thinking of skipping senior year," Leah said, her voice heavy with a sneer Shylie had come to expect. "Skipping straight to the seniors? Is that true?"
Shylie turned, locking eyes with her opponent, unflinching. "Why would I wait? I am already doing the work."
Leah's smile faltered, but quickly righted itself. "Not everyone can handle that kind of pressure. Senior year is hard, Shylie. Are you sure you want to do it?"
Shylie leaned in, her voice low but even. "Pressure is just another opportunity. But thanks for the concern."
Leah's eyes latched on for a second longer than was comfortable. But Shylie was not intimidated. Leah was no longer untouchable, as far as Shylie was concerned. Not anymore.
The day of the project presentations came, and the gymnasium was a circus of lights, displays, and showboating talent. The competition was stiff. Shylie was not there to be outdone. She was there to take back control of her own life.
Darren found her before the event, visibly more nervous than was normal for him. "You ready for this?" he asked, his usual bravado now dappled with a hint of hesitation.
Shylie smiled at him, her calm demeanor not faltering. "Always."
They took the stage. Darren took lead with the visual presentation, while Shylie relayed the data with the clinical proficiency she had been perfecting for years of planning. The room went quiet when they finished, but when the applause came, it was deafening.
The following Monday, the results were posted. As expected, Shylie and Darren's project sat proudly at the top.
The principal's voice echoed through the loudspeakers. "I am pleased to announce that Shylie Reed has been approved to skip 11th grade and will join the seniors for the upcoming academic year."
The murmuring was immediate. Students filtered out of their homerooms into the hallways to fill the spaces between classes. Shylie Reed had become a fixture that could not be ignored.
Leah, the untouchable senior, had a seat on her throne that had just gotten shaky. As for Darren? He had been drawn into Shylie's gravitational field, their partnership, once unlikely, shifting in ways neither of them could have predicted.
Shylie had taken her first steps into the senior world. But this was only the beginning. She was not here to play a role in their drama. She was here to write the script. And nothing, no one, was going to stop her from rewriting the rules.
Her Thinkpad 755 computer hummed quietly, filling the room with a gentle, persistent drone. On her cluttered desk, stacks of papers reflected the warm light cast by her desk lamp. Her fingers danced across her Thinkpad keyboard with the practiced ease and speed of someone who has spent years using the same type of keyboard. She navigated the early versions of stock software with precision; not just the kind of precision that comes from having spent years using it, but the kind of precision that comes from remembering how each keystroke would interact with each piece of code. The hours, days, weeks, months, and years of practice created a rhythmic motion; a movement that felt both familiar and automatic.A soft ping broke the silence of the quiet room.Shylie's eyes darted quickly to the screen and the bright flash of the HealthSync notification that had appeared. A surge of adrenaline ran through her body. She had invested in a small, fledgling health-tech company call
Shylie worked in the dimly lit incubator well after dark, the gentle whir of computer fans and the rhythmic clacking of keys on her terminal creating a soothing background melody. The fluorescent light overhead cast long shadows across drafting tables, CRT monitors and stacks of papers and reports spread out in front of her. It was an organized mess, a place where dreams were created and tested, and the beat of desire pulsed through every keystroke she made.Elias sat close by her, observing her with quiet empathy. His glasses reflected the light of the screen in front of him, his keen eyes watching her fingers move swiftly and precisely across the worn beige keyboard. He had become more than just a teacher to Shylie, he had become her anchor. Elias gave her the confidence to take the time she needed to consider things, rather than rush through them. And sometimes he reminded her that not all answers are contained within an algorithm."Numbers tell a story," Elias said
Leah flipped through the manila folder in front of her with the precision of a surgeon. Each page was a carefully crafted piece of her plan. As she turned each sheet, the soft rustling of the paper was interrupted only occasionally by the soft click of her pen and the margin notes she was writing. The phone was nestled between her ear and shoulder; Leah's voice was as cold as the air in the room. Quiet, measured tones flowed smoothly from her mouth."She is becoming untouchable," Leah spoke quietly into the phone. "Time to make it personal."On the other end of the phone, the voice was unreadable, but Leah knew exactly what it was telling her. She did not have to hear the response. She had planned this for weeks. Every single move, every single decision, had been calculated to perfection. The rumors were growing at an alarming rate. Whispers of Shylie's supposed manipulation, of her increasing power and influence, were spreading faster than Leah could have ever imagine
Anticipation swirled around the school auditorium. Folding chair row upon row, each chair held a teacher, parent, alumnus and a few area investors tied to the incubator program. The excitement of the crowd created a buzz of conversation that reverberated off the high ceiling of the auditorium and blended in with the sounds of footfalls in the hallway.The Innovation Showcase was an annual event. It brought together the aspirations of students, the curiosity of the business world, and the competitive spirit of others. It was a venue where ideas were generated and where reputations were made or broken. Ideas had the potential to create the next major innovation...or to be crushed under the weight of skepticism.On the stage, Leah remained at the very edge of the spotlight, standing calmly in her perfectly fitting blazer and heels, quietly surveying the room. Her intent was not to compete. Her intent was to destroy. For Leah, the game has always been about maintaining con
The gym was electrified by a buzz of excitement, a large number of students filling the bleachers, cheering and chanting for their favorite teams. Under the bright overhead lights, the court glistened with a polished finish and reflected the excited faces of the fans and the intense focus of the competing athletes.Darren Tan was ready. He had waited for this day for weeks, the championship game of the year, the day that would decide which two teams advanced to the finals and which teams went home.He walked nervously from side-to-side of the sidelines, tapping the bottom of his sneakers against the polished wood floor with practiced smoothness. His teammates were joking around and running through their normal pregame routines but Darren was unable to fully shake off the feeling of anticipation that ran through his body. He was not nervous. No, he was not nervous. He was experiencing something else entirely. Something that was quiet, yet exciting. Something that was a
Late afternoon sunlight cast long shadows in the school courtyard, giving every thing a warm, golden glow typical of the early fall season. Leaves still full of green were beginning to display some signs of amber and even some edges were beginning to curl in the cool fall breeze.As the leaves changed color the air became quiet and reflective; it was as if the world itself was holding its breath.Darren and Shylie sat side-by-side on a worn bench beneath the sprawling branches of the old elm tree. Although the campus was alive with the sounds of students passing by, talking quietly among themselves, the overall volume of the campus was somewhat thin, leaving Darren and Shylie to sit quietly listening to the sounds of the day. Students occasionally walked by them, heads bent over books/magazines, soft murmurs of conversation in the background, but otherwise the campus activity level was low, and there were no distractions. The only other sounds were the rustle of the le







