She looked at him, then at the car, then back at him. "Leo? I heard a rumor... about that app of yours." Leo smiled, grabbing the bags. "It’s doing okay, ma'am."
"Doing 'okay' usually doesn't involve venture capitalists in the parking lot," she teased. "Are you going to stay for the final exam?"
Leo laughed. "Wouldn't miss it. I still need to know how the real world works."
His life became a series of strange dualities. In the mornings, he’d argue with his mom about cleaning his room or taking out the trash. In the afternoons, he’d sit in his lawyer’s glass-walled office, signing documents that moved more money than his parents had earned in a decade.
He’d started at fourteen, coding by the light of a desk lamp while his parents thought he was doing homework. His first "big" win wasn't a million dollars; it was the $20 he made selling a digital skin for a game. But that $20 became the seed. He didn’t buy sneakers or a new console; he opened a brokerage account with his dad's help and started learning the language of the S&P 500.