Fuzzy

PUBLISHER'S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been applied for and may be obtained from the Library of Congress.

ISBN: 978-1-4197-2122-9
eISBN: 978-1-6131-2048-4
Text copyright © 2016 Tom Angleberger and Paul Dellinger
Book design by Chad W. Beckerman

Published in 2016 by Amulet Books, an imprint of ABRAMS. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher.

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FOR MADELYN

1.1
HALLWAY B

“Oh, big whoop, Maxine,” said Krysti. “Another robot.”

Max made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a growl.

First of all, Max didn't like being called Maxine, and Krysti knew it.

Second of all, Max
hated
the new trend of using fifty-year-old slang like “big whoop” and “awesome, bro,” and Krysti knew it.

And most of all, Max
loved
robots, and Krysti knew that, too. So Krysti was pretending she wasn't interested in the biggest news of all time: Today was the day that the Robot Integration Program started. There had been
a lot of hype about it and even some news coverage. Their school, Vanguard Middle, was getting the first-ever robot student. Anywhere. Ever. It
was
a big whoop, at least in Max's opinion.

Now Max was walking the halls before school started, hoping to see the robot in action. Unfortunately, Krysti was not just slowing Max down but also driving her crazy.

“Seriously,” continued Krysti, “this school is already mega overrun with robots. Janitors, lunch ladies, librarians—all robots!”

“Krysti,” said Max, “it is not just
another
robot. This is an artificially intelligent, fully—”

“If it's already so smart, then why is it going to school?” asked Jack Biggs, who had come up behind them.

This time Max definitely growled. It was bad enough listening to Krysti, who was supposedly her best friend, but Biggs was basically her best enemy. He always tried to hang around them, but then constantly picked on them—especially Max. It was maddening.

“Yeah,” said Krysti, who tolerated Biggs much better than Max did. “It's supposed to be this big-deal super-smart robot and it has to take seventh-grade math?”

“Well, even geniuses like myself have to take seventh-grade math at some point,” said Biggs.

“Hey, where are you guys going?” said Jack's sidekick, Simeon, as he approached them.

“Oh, Maxine is totally on the hunt for that robot,” said Krysti. She gave the back of Max's head an affectionate tap with her ever-present sketchbook.

“Yeah, it's her best chance of getting a boyfriend,” said Biggs.

Why me?
thought Max.
Why do the three weirdest kids in the whole school always hang around me?

But deep down, Max had to admit she felt closer to these three than to anybody else at the school. And she realized that she herself might very well be the fourth weirdest.

Then she saw a commotion up ahead. The robot must be up there.

She moved faster.

She didn't want the others to ruin this moment, and she wasn't going to let a gaggle of onlookers get in her way. Sure, everyone wanted to see the robot, but she wanted to see it more, so she zigged and zagged through the swarm of kids to get a look . . .

And then, there it was!

The robot!

Walking right toward her.

It looked absolutely ridiculous. It was only a little taller than Simeon—who was the shortest kid at Vanguard—and was dressed in boys' clothes at least five years out of style, and was wearing a dark wig.

And its face was . . . kind of creepy. The features were all there, but different. The bright blue eyes never blinked, the eyebrows looked as though they were painted on, the mouth was a closed straight line, and the nose was formed by straight planes that made its tip look pointed.

A lot of people were laughing at it, but Max thought,
That's just the way they dressed it. It can't help what it looks like. The important thing is that this is one of the most advanced robots on the planet, and it's right here where I can—

And then it fell over.

Max actually had to jump back so it didn't land on her foot.

KLOMP!
It must weigh a ton, she realized. It would have crushed her toes!

And then it just lay there. Frozen. Completely still. Bricked.

“Nice work,” said Biggs, catching up from behind. “You already broke it, Max.”

1.2
HALLWAY B

The robot did appear to be broken. It just lay there like a big toy someone had dropped. And somehow she felt like it
might
be her fault!

Can this day get any worse?
she wondered.

Then the walls lit up. The computer-generated face of Vice Principal Barbara looked down on them from every angle.

Vice Principal Barbara was the school's supercomputer. She ran everything and kept an electronic eye on everything as well. And when she needed to communicate with the students, she had an on-screen avatar, which looked just like a grandmother . . . a sort of crazy grandmother. Sometimes friendly, sometimes stern,
sometimes angry, and often flipping between these modes when least expected.

Right now, she was in what Biggs called “grumpy grandmother mode.” To which Simeon had added, “You mean, Big Brother's Grumpy Grandmother.” But they didn't say these things at school, where Barbara might hear them, of course.

“Please keep the hallways clear and safe,” Barbara said, the mouth of her avatar slightly out of sync with her words. “No stopping is allowed in the hallways. Clear the way.”

“But, Vice Principal Barbara,” said Max. “The robot just fell down and—”

“Discipline tags will be assigned in five seconds,” said Barbara. “Proceed to homeroom. Please keep the hallways clear and safe.”

Krysti, Biggs, Simeon, and the other students immediately headed to class, though many craned their necks to look back at Max and the dead robot.

“But—” said Max.

“Discipline tag assigned to Student M. Zelaster,” said Barbara.

Has it been five seconds already?
wondered Max, but
she knew better than to wonder out loud, because that would probably get her an additional dTag.

She looked down at the still robot, reluctant to leave it. Maybe she could help?

“Don't touch it!” called a voice.

Max looked up to see three adults running down the hall. Robotics technicians. Max was dying to ask them questions.

“No running is allowed in the hallways at any time for any reason!” boomed Barbara, switching into
really
stern grandma mode. “Discipline tags assigned to School Visitor number 5, School Visitor number 8, School Visitor number 11. Your violation of school rules will be reported to your employer, Rossum Technologies. Additional discipline tag assigned to Student M. Zelaster. Clear the hallways. Please keep the hallways clean and safe.”

Max didn't stick around to hear the rest. She headed for class before she got hit with any more dTags. She already had
way
too many.

1.3
HOMEROOM

“Oh man,” said Biggs. “Good-bye, Robot Integration Program. I told you anything with the initials RIP was doomed. Rest in Peace, RIP!”

Yes
, thought Max,
he did tell us that . . . about fifty times
.

“Those technicians looked pretty mad,” said Simeon.

“Yeah,” said Krysti, “they came running up, ‘Don't touch it! Don't touch it!' Did they think you were going to give it mouth-to-mouth or something?”

“Yeah,” repeated Biggs, way too loud—as usual. “And then Max goes—”

Luckily, Max didn't have to hear anymore, because a tone sounded over the loudspeakers, their desks lit up, and their science and homeroom teacher, Ms. French,
said: “Now, I know there was a lot of excitement in the hall this morning. But we can't let it get us off track. This week's UpGrade testing is just around the corner, whether there's a robot in school or not. I suggest you use your homeroom time to review.”

Ugh
, thought Max. Reviewing for an UpGrade test was about the last thing she wanted to do. But sometimes it felt like it was the only thing she ever did. The tests were in every class, every week. And you had better make sure your UpGrade level never went down!

Everything at this school was focused on UpGrading. It was all part of a new Federal School Board program called Constant UpGrade. (Although the students had their own names for it.)

The Constant UpGrade program was supposed to be a “revolution in education” with “cutting-edge technology” like Barbara. But it had turned out to mostly be a giant pain in the butt. The cutting-edge technology was always yelling at you, and with the constant testing, none of the classes were any fun.

Since teachers got their own #CUG scores, all they seemed to care about was preparing for the next test.

And making it all even worse, parents received constant updates on everything from their child's test scores to dTags. Bomb a test or do something dumb and Barbara would be sure your parents heard about it in real time.