Sidekicked Read Online Free PDF Page B

connected—otherwise we will be frozen just like all the others. I put my shoulder next to Jenna’s. Eric’s foot is touching mine. I take a deep breath. Gavin reaches out and takes Jenna’s hand.
    Now they’re holding hands.
    I can see the little beads of sweat in between his knuckles.
    I can smell coffee on his breath.
    I can hear her heart speed up ever so slightly when he touches her.
    What kind of thirteen-year-old drinks coffee?
    He licks his lips again.
    I decide I hate coffee.
    Mr. Masters clicks the button on his watch once, and everything is suddenly silent and still for everyone but us. I shake my head a little and regain my focus. This is, like, the hundredth time I’ve had time stopped around me, but it still leaves me a little disoriented.
    â€œOne minute,” he says.
    I glance down the hallway to see the horde of students completely frozen in place. Some girl I don’t know is about to get pummeled by a pile of books that are tumbling out of the top of her locker. My instinct tells me I should go stack them back up and save her the embarrassment, but I know what Mr. Masters would say. That it’s not a life-or-death situation. That the books were meant to fall and she was meant to pick them up, and him stopping time for a moment doesn’t change that. Masters opens the door to the teachers’ lounge, and I feel Eric pull me inside.
    The lounge is deserted, as it always is at this time of day, all a matter of careful scheduling. Mr. Masters takes one last look at his watch and then tucks it back into his pocket. Even if he wanted to stop time again, he couldn’t. It takes the watch three full minutes to reset. It’s the law of the universe, he says. Every power comes at a price.
    Outside the door, I hear the commotion of Highview Middle School kick back in. The girl with the tumbling books curses as one lands on her foot. Three or four people nearby snicker.
    â€œDoes anyone know where Nikki is?”
    Mr. Masters looks at me specifically. I concentrate a little bit to see if I can hear her characteristic shuffle run in the hall outside, but there is too much other noise. I shake my head.
    â€œShe’ll show,” he says, and fishes in his other pocket for a couple of quarters while the rest of us stare silently at the school’s only snack machine.
    We all watch the pork rinds. Salt-and-vinegar flavor. Even the name is revolting. Nobody else ever eats the pork rinds. In fact, most of the teachers have apparently complained to the administration, suggesting that the vending machine space would be better served by some peanut M&Ms, but Mr. Masters insists that he loves them, and he has a way of convincing people to forget what they were complaining about anyway.
    So when Mr. Masters drops his sixty cents into the snack machine and presses B-1, it is with every confidence that he is the only person who ever does. The pork rinds drop to the bin, and Mr. Masters pulls them free.
    Suddenly the vending machine slides back along the wall, revealing a hole and a steep staircase spiraling downward into a gray hall lined with fluorescent lights. Mr. Masters opens the bag of Pete’s Vinegar Spice Pork Rinds and pops one into his mouth. I hold my breath. Even without my super senses, those things would make my stomach turn.
    â€œLet’s go,” he says. “We have a lot to talk about today.”

4
THE SUPERHERO SIDEKICK CODE OF CONDUCT
    I walk down the familiar stairs into the basement of my school—a place that very few non-Supers even know about. The head of the CIA, probably. The president of the United States. The bigwigs at Homeland Security’s S.A.D. It’s important to keep our training under wraps, to help protect our identities and the identities of the Supers we serve. Our principal, Mr. Buchanan, is oblivious. As are the rest of Highview’s teachers and students. It’s all very hush-hush. Even the mayor of Justicia