Fuzzy by Tom Angleberger Page B

Tabbie’s file and focused her attention on other students—and staff—who were more likely to DownGrade than UpGrade
    And Max was one of those students.

10.1
ROBOT INTEGRATION PROGRAM HQ
    â€œHello, Max! I am glad to see you again,” said Fuzzy, who was hooked up to his charging dock.
    â€œHe never says he’s glad to see
me
,” Jones whispered to Nina.
    (
Who can blame him?
she thought.)
    â€œC’mon, let’s look over the new rule-following code he wrote overnight,” Nina said, steering Jones to the qScreens on the far side of the room.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” asked Jones, puzzled at being pulled away from Fuzzy.
    â€œEven artificial teenagers need a little privacy sometimes,” whispered Nina.
    Jones’s eyes widened, but he didn’t argue.
    â€œI’ve got to talk to you! About something big!” Max told Fuzzy.
    â€œMe, too,” said Fuzzy.
    â€œBut first: Are you mad at me?” Max asked once they were semi-alone. “You know, for leaving you in the hallway? Is that why you left the school? Because you were mad at me?”
    â€œI have only a few subroutines that would be similar to what you call ‘mad,’” said Fuzzy. “But none of them have been triggered by your actions.”
    â€œWhew,” she said. “I’m glad. I felt bad about leaving you. And then I felt
really
bad when I found out you’d left school and those people tried to steal you.”
    â€œI felt bad when I heard that you got extra discipline tags.”
    â€œYou
felt
bad?”
    â€œYes, an accumulation of high-priority problems adds a lot of stress to my processors.”
    â€œSame here!” said Max. “But listen, it looks like the dTags are not a problem anymore. Dorgas deleted them! Now all I have to worry about is my tests.”
    â€œI have found a solution to that problem.”
    â€œYou have??!?” squealed Max. “What is it?”
    â€œLet’s talk about it at lunch,” said Fuzzy.
    â€œWhy can’t you tell me now?”
    â€œFirst, lunch is part of the solution, and, second, the chime for homeroom will ring in thirty-five seconds.”

10.2
CAFETERIA
    â€œWait a second,” said Max as they approached the cafeteria. “How are we going to talk about this at lunch? You usually have to turn off your speech processor.”
    â€œMy plan is simple. We will use paper and pencil.”
    â€œUh . . . Where are you going to get a pencil?”
    â€œAccording to my understanding, paper and pencils are commonly found in schools.”
    â€œMaybe in ye olden days! Can you use my qScreen instead?”
    â€œNo. It is important that we are not overheard or monitored.”
    â€œWho’s going to be monitoring my qScreen? Oh . . . I get it. Right.”
    Max thought back on lots of private stuff she had written on her qScreen . . . Had Barbara been reading all of it? Creepy!
    â€œWell, I guess we better try to find some paper and a pencil then,” said Max. “Maybe Krysti has her sketchbook.”
    When they got to the cafeteria, they found Krysti but had some trouble convincing her to rip a page out of her sketchbook.
    â€œOmigod, do you know how much these sketchbooks cost? You don’t just rip pages out of them! It leaves little jagglies and—”
    â€œUgh . . . forget it!” fumed Max.
    Krysti did seem to enjoy driving Max crazy, but Max knew she never really wanted Max mad at her. And without another word, Krysti ripped a page out of the back of the book and handed it over, along with a pencil.
    By this time, Biggs had come over to talk to Fuzzy, followed by Simeon. Max groaned.
    â€œSmoke, Biggs, move along. Fuzzy and I have to have a little meeting.”
    â€œI know,” said Biggs. “I’m invited.”
    â€œWhat?”
    She looked at Fuzzy for an answer, then remembered that his voice recognition was turned