Free Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm a Supervillain by Richard Roberts Page B

desperate. You might be right about the words, because it was all ‘Move that here!’ and ‘Plug that in!’ This isn’t ringing any bells?”
    “Total blackout. It’s a little bit disturbing to find out I turn into someone else and can’t remember it when my power turns on.” Understatement. Maybe I needed help?
    Claire passed me a plastic dish with a slice of chicken on a bed of rice, then poured a thick, transparent sauce on it from another little container AND laid a slice of her Mom’s fudgy brownies on my tray. “Here. This will make you feel better.”
    I cut off a slice and took a bite. It was sweet, peanut-ty, and, after three seconds, I grabbed my milk carton and drank the whole thing. My tongue was burning! It was so good, but…
    I twisted The Machine desperately on my wrist, and, when it let go, I ordered, “Water! Bring me cold water!”
    Then, of course, I had another bite. My tongue screamed at me. This stuff was great!
    I opened my mouth to thank Claire and realized there was no way I could talk like this. My glasses were fogging up, and my body wanted to bolt to the nearest water fountain. That duplicitous little minx!
    Ray leaned in to reassure me. “Don’t let it worry you, Penny. Your powers are supposed to get a bit crazy when they first emerge. In Evolution’s biography, I read he turned into a tree for a week when his powers came out.”
    “I heard about that. It was in that article in National Geographic about whether he was the cause of the super power boom, with all the pollen he released and all. They can find traces of his DNA in every human on Earth,” Claire chatted back to Ray.
    Ray waved a forkful of pasta at her. “Think if it’s true. Ten years later he fights Bull and Chimera, getting even more powers from villains whose powers he created in the first place.”
    This was what they talked about when I didn’t set the topic. Claire had outmaneuvered me, and there was nothing I could do about it. Oh, thank Tesla, The Machine was waddling back, distended like a gallon jug. I heaved it off the floor and drank. Ice cold water from the fountain!
    Claire still had me. Any time not spent finishing the chicken or slugging down water was time with my mouth on fire.
    I had the best friends.

    They conspired against me after school, too. They were both waiting in the lab, arms folded identically, and, as I opened the hatch, Ray announced, “No working yourself until you collapse this afternoon, Penny. We’ve taken a vote and decided you need a break.”
    “More specifically, we’ve decided we haven’t had a game of Teddy Bears And Machine Guns all weekend. I put too much work into my zombie rag doll army for you to sneak out of being on the receiving end of it,” Claire filled in.
    That sounded pretty good. I’d made a pile of money off the Pumpkin jar, and those zombie rag dolls were in for an ugly candy chainsaw surprise. Except for one thing.
    I held up my hands. “I provisionally surrender. I have only one condition. I need to try and build something, and remember doing it.”
    Claire looked suspicious. Ray figured it out. “You’ve been freaking out all day about this, haven’t you?”
    I let out a huge sigh. “Yes! I know it’s fine, it’s just been needling me. I don’t remember anything from yesterday. I don’t even know how that works.” I flapped a hand at the metal caster, and went on. “And you say I ordered you around while building it? I’m going to be creeped out until I try to explore this, and there’s no way I could do it in class.”
    “Okay, but keep it small,” Claire warned me.
    Like I had that kind of control. That was part of the problem. Could I even turn this on? A three-second invention made out of a pencil wouldn’t count. It wouldn’t tell me anything.
    If I didn’t get this figured out, I’d be on edge all night. I picked up a screwdriver and one of our spare outlets, and went over to another wiring gap. Dropping down onto my