Breakthrough Read Free Page B

he was doing, but I knew enough to be afraid. Sometimes, very afraid.
    My brother and I were always pushing it. One day Luke had taken apart an old microwave he had found in someone’s garbage and was making a ray gun that he was using to roast things. I was on the other side of the basement trying not to get too freaked out by what my brother was doing while I experimented with capacitors, which are like little sponges that quickly soak up electricity. I wanted to see what would happen if I supercharged some particles to create plasmas with aluminum foil.
    That’s when everything in the basement went black.
    â€œWe must have blown a fuse,” Luke said.
    We didn’t realize it, but we were using way too much energy. Our parents weren’t home, so Luke walked to check the fuse box. A few minutes later, we heard a knock on the door. It was the powercompany. We hadn’t just knocked out the power to our own house. We had knocked out the power for the whole neighborhood! Whoops.
    â€œDid either of you notice anything unusual?” the worker asked, looking suspiciously around the house.
    Luke and I looked at each other nervously.
    â€œNo, sir,” I muttered.
    There was nothing unusual, I told myself to justify the lie. In the Andraka house, at least, this was a normal afternoon.
    When my parents got home from work that night we fessed up. Instead of getting angry and grounding us like we had expected, Mom and Dad looked both terrified and amused as they pleaded with us to be more careful and not blow the house up. Dad ended his speech with a warning.
    â€œYou are not to talk about what happened,” he said. “Ever.” (Sorry, Dad!)
    My parents often found themselves in a difficult position. They didn’t want anyone to get hurt, but at the same time, they felt it was important to let me and Luke experiment and learn on our own terms. And it was working. My mind was growing in ways I never knew were possible, and my parents had taken notice. When it became clear my elementary school wasn’t challenging me, my mom went out and found a small charter school nearby that specialized in math and science, where I could progress at my own pace.
    The difference between my charter school and my public schoolwas like night and day. The first thing I realized about my new school when I started sixth grade was that the students were hypercompetitive, especially when it came to the mandatory Hunger Games–style contest called the Anne Arundel County Regional Science and Engineering Fair.
    Much like the actual Hunger Games, this contest was a complete bloodbath. Once a year, the entire student body assembled at the University of Maryland to duke it out, project versus project. The last student standing would receive bragging rights over the entire school, along with a cheap laptop. Every time I thought about winning the contest, I felt a shot of adrenaline. I love competition. I was all in.
    The beginning of sixth grade was also when I met Logan.
    I was sitting in Advanced Math class when I first laid eyes on her. She and I hit it off right away. Each time the teacher had his head turned to the board, we passed notes back and forth.
    â€œWant to sit next to me at lunch?” I wrote.
    â€œYes,” she’d write back.
    It didn’t take long for the relationship to evolve out of the classroom. We spent as much time as possible hanging out. We had a natural, easy connection. Before long, people assumed we were an item, and we were both happy to go along with it.
    â€œI guess we are boyfriend and girlfriend,” I said.
    â€œCool,” she answered.
    That was that. My first girlfriend.
    As a present, she bought me a stuffed brown bear and chocolates. Now that I was in middle school, I was beginning to notice the pressure to fit in. Being with Logan made me feel normal and accepted. And she was the perfect girl—beautiful, smart, and, above all else, fun to be around.
    Our