Page 42 of Atticus
“Yes,” I reply, at a loss. “But that’s impossible, isn’t it? I’m a limited edition. I was built to serve a school and its staff, not a single woman.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s impossible. Are you and her...You know, on the down-low?”
“Down-low?” It takes my processors a moment to comprehend what he is implying. “Oh. No. She said we can’t.”
“She’s afraid,” Trey offers sympathetically, nodding at me. “I know what that’s like. I imagine it’s different, though, being with a machine. Or so I hear. My youngest brother got himself an android girl and it’s an uphill battle. Maybe Lucy’s just scared of what that means, but she’s a damn smart woman, she’ll come around. Have patience. When the time is right, go all out.”
“All out?”
“That’s right. Gotta get your girl, Atticus,” Trey replies. “You’ll hate yourself if you never try.”
* * *
Trey’s words linger with me when I return to Lucy.Gotta get my girl. Encouraging assertiveness, confidence, taking control of myself and my surroundings in a new way. I want to do everything he says and more. But my inhibitor chip has me locked in tight. I can’t go against Lucy’s word, no matter how badly I wish to.
“Everything good?” she asks when I come to sit with her. The night is chilly. She’s wearing a fluffy beanie, sleek black gloves, and a knitted blanket over her lower half. She holds the blanket up for me. “Come here, quick, it’s freezing.”
The cold doesn’t bother me. I don’t require a jacket, even though I’m wearing one. Lucy says to appear most human, it’s important I dress for the season. The stands are still filling with people, all filing into their seats.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole town is here,” she marvels under her breath.
My sitting next to her under a blanket as though it’s the most natural thing in the world garners us both a few odd looks. I choose to ignore them. The Commodores have arrived, and their families and supporters gather similarly on the opposite side of the field, piling on in the bleachers.
“I’ve been researching the rivalry between Vautrin and Crystal Lake,” I say, speaking a little over the crowd, which is starting to get loud as the cheerleaders hype them up. “Apparently the schools have been competing against each other in several sports since the 1890s.”
“It’s insane they’ve been around this long,” Lucy replies, lightly bumping my shoulder with hers. “Guess it makes sense now why the gym roof is in such bad shape.”
We huddle beneath her blanket as the game begins. Within the first three minutes, the Spartans score a touchdown, which has everyone watching on their feet, cheering. I peer at the names and numbers of the players sitting on the bench.
“Isn’t that Jack Gunther?” I ask, pointing to the player wearing a jersey with 22 on the back.
“That’s him,” Lucy agrees.
But they don’t play him at all for the entire first portion of the game. He’s slouched over in disappointment by the time halftime rolls around.
“It’s time,” Lucy says as we both rise from our seats. “Are you ready to be an overnight sensation?”
“I am,” I reply. “I think.”
“All right, let’s do this.” Lucy rubs her gloves together. “Carlisle is going to love this.”
* * *
“I hate this,” Carlisle fumes on Monday morning, twisting her screen around to face us. “Three million views in three days.Three million.Of our robot dancing with our school resource officer and our cheerleading team during halftime—and scoring a touchdown with half the football team piled on him. You’ve made our entire school a laughingstock!”
Lucy’s shoulders stiffen as she sits in a chair while I stand behind her, watching the automatic replays of the videos she’s referring to. The dancing was mostly Trey’s idea, and is by far the more popular video. We had the entire stadium cheering and shouting and waving their arms, so her disdain is puzzling to me.
But I know better than to speak up. Being artificial, any word out of my mouth will only irritate the principal further. Better to stay silent and let Lucy handle it.
“What are you talking about?” Lucy asks, incredulous. “Three million views is agoodthing. It’s better than I anticipated by far.”
“Hardly,” Carlisle scoffs. “Kids are supposed to be learning here. This is meant to be a place of prestige, where education is sacred.”
Lucy makes a slight noise in the back of her throat, nearly undetectable. But nothing escapes Carlisle.
She squints. “What was that?”
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but this is a public school in a small town in Illinois, not Harvard or MIT,” Lucy replies. “I’m really not going to sit here and pretend otherwise. And this kind of positive, fluffy exposure is exactly what the school needs. I’ve been to the meetings. People are migratingawayfrom St. Morgan and enrollment is down. Knowing that a state-of-the-art android is here, not only helping our teachers provide the best education possible but also boosting morale, interacting with the kids, and generating interest? I mean, it’s not going to get us on a late-night talk show, but it’s a start to help us in the long run.”
