Sidekicked by John David Anderson

Author:John David Anderson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

17

THE WORST FIFTEEN MINUTES OF MY LIFE SO FAR

The world stops spinning, only for a moment, and then speeds up again. I pull the card free, not thinking that it might be rigged somehow, not thinking that the act of pulling it off the door could cause the whole school to blow up or something.

But I’m just being stupid. Nothing happens. It’s just a playing card. A man with a sword stuck through his head. Smiling at me. Suddenly, all around me, the school erupts in sound. I’ve lost my concentration and let control of my senses slip. Everything is rush and roar, and I feel like I’m submerged beneath a waterfall.

Okay, Drew. Calm down. Remember your training. What do you do when a psychotic villain leaves his calling card in your locker? Panic? Do you panic? Is that what you do?

Yes, I answer myself. Panic first. No avoiding it. Might as well get it out of the way. I stand there, my hands shaking, the Jack of Clubs bouncing up and down.

Now. Take a deep breath. Try to slow it down. Concentrate. You need to tell somebody. He could be here right now. The whole school could be in danger. Get help.

I look around for anyone. Jenna, Eric, even Gavin, that’s how desperate I am.

Nobody. Everybody. Bodies everywhere. I don’t recognize any of them. Why is everyone so loud all of a sudden?

Calm down. Get control.

I head to the corner. Jenna’s locker is down the hall on the left, but she’s not there.

Where is she?

I can usually find her anywhere, but there’s no trace of her. The crowd is shoving, pulling, yelling. I need help.

Mr. Masters.

I quickly head up to his room, remembering that he teaches earth science last period, but he’s not there. I’m still holding the stupid card in my hand. I’m listening for a familiar voice, but it’s the end of the school day and the noise is deafening. I can’t concentrate enough to sift through them all. All the conversations bleed together into a chaotic buzz. I’m sweating. My mouth is dry. I feel like I might pass out.

Then I hear a voice I recognize.

It’s my former English teacher, Ms. Norris. Three doors down.

“Andrew? Is everything all right?”

I catch my breath. “Ms. Norris, you haven’t seen Mr. Masters around, have you? I really need to talk to him about this . . . project I’m doing.”

“I’m sorry, but I think Mr. Masters left early this afternoon.”

“What? What the heck for?” I look around frantically.

Ms. Norris gives me a very strange look. “I’m sure I don’t know, though he is an adult . . . with a life . . . so he does leave this school sometimes,” she says a little defensively. “Is there something I can help you with?”

I look back at her. She’s a nice enough lady and she knows a lot about poetry, but rhyming couplets are no defense against supervillains. I shake my head.

“You can always try and get his home number from the front office,” she calls after me, but I am already headed back down the stairs.

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