Read Please Don't Tell My Parents I'm a Supervillain for Free Online

pick up his screwdriver made my heart seize up, but I just had to be cool. He wouldn’t risk breaking it. Not something this valuable. His glasses rearranged to magnify as he peered into the many gaps in The Machine’s plates.
    Right now, his own super power was working, trying to connect what he knew about science with the thing in front of him, analyze the pattern, and distill it into a practical result. “Your guess is as good as mine as to what it does. I’d swear it’s purely mechanical. I can’t find a power source at all,” came the answer.
    Wow, I’d outfoxed Dad’s super power. Go, Penny!
    “Superhumans with creative powers traditionally create artificial life or perpetual motion the first time their powers emerge. Looks like our Penny pulled off both at the same time,” Mom told Dad. She sounded proud, but…
    “There’s no such thing as perpetual motion, even for us,” I argued. “Us.” HA! I get to say “us” from now on!
    “Photosynthesis looks like perpetual motion if you don’t know anything about chemistry. How could shining sunlight on chemicals keep reactions going forever? There’s always a price, always entropy being made and fuel being consumed. We still call something like this a perpetual motion machine because it looks like it’s ignoring those rules. Like your Mom said, they’re the first thing most mad scientists make.” Dad leaned back in his chair and put his elbows on the desk as he explained all this to me. His glasses whizzed and clicked, rearranging to their normal configuration.
    “Mad scientists are villains, Dad. I’m not a mad scientist,” I scolded him.
    “I’m not sure you’re anything, yet,” he countered. Wait, what? I looked back at Mom. She wasn’t correcting him.
    When I went back to staring at him, he explained, “It’s normal for superhuman powers to go off without—”
    I cut him off, throwing up both hands. “I know, I know! You don’t have to give me the super- powered Birds And The Bees speech!” Criminy, he was probably right. I’d worked completely on instinct. Maybe my powers hadn’t emerged yet, after all.
    “Can I have my Machine back?” I asked immediately. I knew I sounded like a begging baby, but when Dad pulled it out of his vice and set it in my hands, when I tried to bend it around my wrist and it got the hint and locked up like a bracelet again, I felt so much safer. This was my proof. I’d done something no regular human could possibly do.
    “It’s fine, Penny—” my Mom started, her voice gentle.
    I interrupted her. “I really don’t want the super-powered Birds and Bees speech, Mom!” Being patronized would make this worse.
    “I was saying, it’s easy to check,” she corrected me. “Brian, you don’t mind if she uses your work room for this, right?”
    “Go right ahead, Pumpkin. Make another. Make anything,” Dad urged me, sliding out of his chair and stepping over by Mom.
    Eek. Okay, pressure time. Big, big pressure time, Penny. I looked around. Dad’s machines made even less sense than the ones in the shop. Well, no, that wasn’t true. Everything here was nicely labeled, and, even if I didn’t know how to work it, that machine over there stamped microchips, and there was his micro water knife, and… well, I sort of understood everything I saw.
    Okay, build another Machine. I looked at it, wrapped snugly around my wrist. I’d felt so inspired. I’d needed to recycle circuit boards, right? What was it like to think that way?
    It wasn’t coming. Maybe something simpler? I had all the parts here. I knew how Dad’s nervous system antenna worked. Funny now that building it would do its job for it.
    I still didn’t know the math. I didn’t know what I was doing.
    I must have signaled my defeat somehow. I became aware of Dad standing over me, and he reached down and wrapped his arms around my middle and picked me up. I didn’t think he was still strong enough to do that.
    “Okay, I’m going to be