Sidekicks Read Online Free PDF

about himself, who you can’t count on for anything, who may be completely incommunicado for long stretches of time. I’ll hardly ever be able to go anywhere or do anything! I’ll agree to meet you places and then stand you up and not be able to give you a reason! Doesn’t that sound awesome?”
    Before I have a chance to pull my laptop out of my bag, the intercom statics to life. Everyone else in class pauses, too, to see if it’s them getting called out of class. “Scott Hutchinson, please report to the front desk. Scott Hutchinson.”
    I get up from my seat and walk toward the door as everyone else goes about their business. No one looks up at me. Even Mr. Privet doesn’t miss a beat. He’s already into the lesson before I reach the hallway. That’s another reason this school is so perfect for me … kids of politicians and entertainers are always getting pulled out of school for one reason or another, so they don’t even blink when it happens to me.
    I find myself walking pretty quickly toward the frontdesk … almost, but not quite, slipping into a bit of plus speed. It’s funny … even with all my concerns over being a social outcast, I still can’t wait to get out of here and become Bright Boy again.
    I just wish I had a better costume.

the Fortress, the official secret hideout of Phantom Justice and Bright Boy. It sits underground, about a thousand feet below Trent’s mansion. To tell you the truth, I’m not really sure why we even need the Fortress. It’s full of all this crime-fighting equipment that Trent bought, that we never really use. The only thing we do use is the MCC, or Main Crime Computer, and that thing is a couple of years old now. I’m pretty sure I can do on my phone ninety percent of what the MCC does.
    I walk past the costume room and the armory, past the revolving platform that the Stealth Phantom is parked on, and there he is—Trent Clancy, aka PhantomJustice, standing with his back to me, staring up at the giant, wall-size monitor. Even in civilian clothes, he’s impressive. Six feet three inches, 220 pounds of solid muscle, Trent is plus/plus, speed and strength, like me. Even just standing there in civilian clothes, looking up at the giant monitor, I could feel his intensity. His posture is intense. His hair is intense. If I could see his face, I bet it would have an intense look on it. And when he speaks, his voice is intense.
    â€œDr. Chaotic escaped from prison this morning.”
    Several pictures of Dr. Chaotic pop up on the monitor, in various forms of dress and disguises.
    â€œDr. Chaotic. Real name: unknown. Known Aliases: Richard Fairweather, Harold Riesling, James Conant. Former Location: San Raphael Maximum Security Prison. Current location: unknown. Attributes: plus intelligence. Dr. Chaotic is quite possibly the most intelligent human on the planet. Although lacking plus speed or strength, Chaotic has the ability to create and implement an unlimited amount of armor and weaponry. These devices are highly sophisticated. They enhance his physical attributes to near plus capacities, and are often capable of massive destruction. Threat level: highest.” Trent recites theinformation from memory, as if he’s reading from a case file. Unfortunately, he talks like this a lot.
    â€œHow did this happen?” I ask.
    â€œThey’re not sure. They’re still piecing together the details, but it appears that he constructed a small laser out of wood, a battery pack, and circuitry from an old television.”
    â€œYou’re kidding.”
    Trent turns and gives me an intense look. “No. I’m not.”
    I sigh. “No, I know … it’s just an expression.”
    Trent continues to stare at me for a couple of uncomfortable beats, then finally turns back to the monitor.
    â€œIt took him a little more than three weeks,” he says.
    â€œThat’s it? Holy