Chapter Two: The Smart Kid with a Secret
James Monroe Middle School looked exactly as Ryan remembered it from the show. Tan stucco walls. Bright blue lockers. The occasional flickering fluorescent light that made you question the stability of the school's infrastructure. For most students, it was just another ordinary Monday morning.
But for Ryan Marquez, it was his first day walking into this place with a genius-level IQ, a complete understanding of artificial intelligence, weapons systems, clean energy blueprints, and a twenty-step plan to take over Silicon Valley before he turned twenty.
And yet, he still had to ask for directions to the bathroom.
He walked down the main hallway with a backpack that weighed more in scientific theory than actual textbooks, trying not to attract too much attention. Step one of his plan was to blend in. No Iron Man suits in gym class. No nanotech lockers. Just awkward eye contact, social anxiety, and that weird sweat you get from middle school hallways.
"Yo, new kid!" someone called out.
Ryan turned and saw Manny Delgado—wearing a blazer, drinking from a tiny espresso cup. Classic Manny.
"You must be that Marquez kid everyone's whispering about," Manny said, walking up to him like a tiny aristocrat. "Lucia and my mom are doing Zumba together now. She says you built a coffee machine that delivers caffeine on a drip timer?"
Ryan shrugged. "Prototype. I called it the Caf-Fiend. Still working on version 2.0."
Manny grinned. "Respect."
They walked together toward homeroom. Ryan glanced around and saw familiar faces—Alex Dunphy reading The Origin of Species, Luke sticking pencils up his nose, and a young girl with braces arguing with her teacher about extra credit policy.
"Middle school," Ryan muttered. "Where genius goes to die."
"You have no idea," Manny replied. "I once tried to quote Neruda in the lunchroom and got a meatball thrown at me."
"Harsh."
The first class was Earth Science. Ryan sat beside Alex, who gave him a suspicious glance.
"You're the kid with the blender drone, right?" she asked.
Ryan kept his voice low. "It was for surveillance testing. You'd be surprised how agile a four-blade food processor becomes when it's aerodynamically recalibrated."
She stared for a beat, then smirked. "Okay, that was cool."
Mr. Taylor, their teacher, waddled into the room with a stack of printouts and a coffee stain on his tie. "Alright, class! We're going to break into teams and build simple volcano models. Remember—this is about tectonic pressure, not how big of an explosion you can cause. No repeat of the 'Foam Incident of 2022.' Luke, I'm looking at you."
Luke grinned like he had no regrets. He probably didn't.
Ryan rolled his eyes and raised his hand. "Mr. Taylor? Can I do an alternate version using a simulated geothermic reaction chamber? I promise no explosions."
Mr. Taylor blinked. "Uh… as long as it doesn't void the school's insurance."
Alex raised her hand. "Can I work with him?"
Luke followed. "Me too!"
Mr. Taylor sighed. "Fine. But if anyone starts a chemical chain reaction, I'm calling your parents."
During the lab period, Ryan casually built a small, heat-reactive mini volcano that demonstrated geothermal exchange using a salvaged processor from a microwave, water tubes, and heat gel from his mom's salon kit. Alex was impressed. Luke just wanted to see if it could cook bacon.
"You're not like other kids," Alex said, scribbling notes. "It's like you already know how this stuff works."
Ryan shrugged. "I read a lot."
Alex narrowed her eyes. "You're hiding something."
Ryan looked her dead in the eye and smiled. "I'm just an overachiever with a knack for creative plumbing and controlled explosions."
Luke, holding a stick of Slim Jims near the core, added, "Can we use this to make jerky?"
Later that day, Ryan sat under a tree outside, eating lunch with Manny.
"So… what's your master plan?" Manny asked. "You've got that 'sleeps-four-hours-a-night' look in your eye."
Ryan bit into his sandwich thoughtfully. "Right now? Survive. Buildup. Observe. And figure out who I can trust."
"In middle school?" Manny said. "You're gonna die."
Ryan chuckled. "Yeah. But I'll die with dignity, a hidden supercomputer under my bed, and at least three working patents before freshman year."
"You're insane," Manny said.
"Genius walks a fine line."
Manny nodded. "So does puberty."
As the school day ended, Ryan walked home past the Dunphy house. Claire was yelling at Phil for buying another "family-friendly" magic kit that included a disappearing rabbit.
Jay and Gloria's car was parked out front. Jay nodded at Ryan from the driver's seat. Gloria waved enthusiastically.
"Hola, niño brillante!"
"Hola, Gloria," Ryan called back.
"Mom says your mom is teaching her how to use Google Sheets," Manny said.
"She's going to regret that," Ryan replied.
Inside his room, Ryan pulled open a hidden compartment beneath his dresser drawer and slid out a homemade tablet—nothing on the market yet. The screen flickered on, powered by a customized lithium-sodium cell.
"Alpha, status report."
"Your geothermal demonstration was a success, Master Marquez. I've begun tracking the intellectual development curve of Alex Dunphy. Estimated IQ: 138. Social navigation efficiency: 63%. Recommend strategic alliance."
"Good idea. Keep her close. I'll need her when I start building my neural net prototypes."
"Noted. Also, your dog has chewed through the prototype electric bike cable again."
"Toby!" Ryan yelled.
A bark came from the hallway, followed by a squeaky toy noise and the sound of a crash.
He sighed, pulled out his soldering kit, and started rewiring.
This wasn't just middle school anymore.
It was the first testing ground for the future.