“Obviously your phys-ed class marks aren’t an issue,” Coach says to me, “but this can count toward your health class marks. A boost in that class will help raise your grade average. Are you willing to make that happen?”
“Yeah, I guess. But…”
Coach cuts me off, saying to Milo, “This assignment has enough physical components that Coach Lyle and I have agreed this assignment will count towards your phys-ed criteria. If you complete this task successfully over the next few days, you won’t have to worry about the lack of skill you’ve shown over your past phys-ed assignments.”
Milo fidgets with the left earpiece of his glasses, thinking it over.
“You can each take one night to look after him,” Coach says. “Jamie, you can take him home tonight, and then Milo can cover Saturday night.”
“But that doesn’t give me a night away from it,” I protest. “I’m staying with him this weekend.”
Coach looks between us, and Milo says, “Jamie’s staying at my house while Maddy’s away.”
“Then this should make it easy for you two to work together,” Coach replies. “Hopefully better than your last project. Milo’s skills didn’t exactly shine today.”
“He shouldn’t be punished for not being a sporty person,” I say. “Not that I’m trying to say I should be punished for not being academically gifted.”
“You haven’t been giving your schoolwork your full attention,” Coach says. “I know you’re smarter than you give yourself credit. I want you to prove it to yourself.”
I screw up my face. “What does that mean?”
“What everyone has been telling you all week. Focus up,” Coach says. “But instead of doing it because everyone is telling you to, do it to prove to yourself you can.”
I wince. “That would be easier if I cared about schoolwork.”
Coach laughs. “I think by how much effort you’ve already put in shows you do care. Deep down. Okay, maybe deep, deep down.”
I smooth my hand over my ponytail and exhale slowly. “Okay, if we do take on this assignment, what exactly is involved?”
“I’ve sent a full guide to your emails on the student portal,” Coach says, pulling the robot baby out of the carrier. “Once we activate him, he will act like a real-life baby. He will cry in different volumes and pitches, and over time you will need to work out what each cry means. He will need to be fed, and held, and even need a diaper change.”
“Gross,” I whine.
Coach laughs. “He doesn’t take in or expel liquid. It’s just a simulation.” He lifts a bag. “Inside is his bottle and diaper. They have sensors in them to recognize the baby is getting what he needs.” Coach holds the baby by the ankle. “The sensors will pick up abuse and mishandling. No holding him incorrectly. You need to cradle him, supporting the neck. Even in the car, you need to ensure you strap in the carrier. The baby must be secure so his head doesn’t bop around.”
“And you said we have to look after him overnight?” Milo asks. “But there’s an off switch, right?”
Coach smirks, enjoying this a little too much. “There’s no off switch. Once he’s activated, he doesn’t turn off until the forty-eight hours are over.” He motions to the wristbands. “Ready to get started?”
I give Milo an uneasy look and he shrugs. “It’ll help your grades.”
I wince. “But it’s looking after a baby.”
Milo grabs a wristband. “How hard can it be?”
“That’s the spirit,” Coach says. “Plus, Jamie, it’s one assignment closer to getting off the bench.”
“Ugh. Fine.” I swipe the orange wristband and clasp it around my wrist. It pops when clicked in place. The top button completely suctions over the bottom button.
“Here we go,” Coach says, activating the baby. “Good luck.”
Coach moves to hand me the baby, but I recoil. “Eep.I don’t want it.”
Milo laughs, moving over to Coach with bent and ready arms. “I’ll take it.”
Milo cradles the baby, and I watch as Coach shows the proper way to support his neck. Oh my gosh, this is so crazy. We are talking about this thing like it’s real. It’s a freaky plastic doll.
The baby makes a gurgling sound and Milo jolts. “What was that?”
