Flawed (Flawed, #1)(19)

“Celestine,” Mom says. She jerks her head in Mr. Berry’s direction, and I realize I haven’t acknowledged him yet.

“I’m sorry.” I move forward hastily, as if I’ve been pushed.

“I understand,” he says, devoid of all understanding and affection, through his big white teeth. “So let’s get to it.” He takes his seat and bangs his briefcase down on the table before him. Gold clasps spring open. “Today is just procedure. You won’t be required to say or do anything at all apart from deny the Flawed claim. Then they’ll set a time for your trial tomorrow and send you home.”

I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Celestine,” he says, noticing my nerves, “you just stick with me, kiddo, do as I say, and we’ll both be fine. I’ve done this a million times.”

The both is not lost on me.

“Of course, your situation is unique. I don’t usually have every member of the press and MTV outside my door. Not even for Jimmy Child, but then young women in the media are always more interesting. We found that helped us in Jimmy’s case. They were more interested in his wife and her sister than him.”

“MTV?”

“You’re a pretty seventeen-year-old girl from a good part of town, no serious problems, girlfriend of the son of Judge Crevan. What’s not to love about this case? Plus they’re looking for a new reality show, and it looks like you’re their newest target. You represent a generation that will be obsessed with every detail of every aspect of this case, a generation that is pliable, moldable, and just so happens to have more disposable income than any other demographic. Whatever shoes you wear today, they’ll want tomorrow. Whatever earrings you’re wearing, they will sell out by the end of this week. Whatever perfume you wear, there will be a waiting list for it tomorrow. It will be the Celestine North effect. The fashion and sales industry will love you.”

He speaks so fast I can barely keep up with him, and he talks through a smile, which makes it difficult to read his plumped-up lips, which rarely move.

“Every single medium is going to use you for its own motivations—you remember that. You’re a poster girl for the Guild, you’re a poster girl for Anti-Guild, you’re a poster girl for the clothes you’re about to wear and for the lip gloss they’re going to wonder about. Does your daily eating plan include carbs, and how many ab crunches do you do a day? Who does your hair? How many boyfriends have you had? Have you had a boob job? Should you? Plastic surgeons are lined up and ready to talk about every aspect of you, Celestine North, and I care about all those aspects because they affect the outcome of the biggest question of all: Are you Flawed?”

I don’t know if he’s waiting for an answer or not. He is simply studying me, all of me, with his snakelike eyes, which stare at me from under his eyelid-lift, so I don’t respond. I will not give him the benefit, and I wonder again where this stubbornness comes from.

“Everyone is ready and waiting to use you for their own good, just you remember that.”

Everyone? “And what’s your angle?” I ask.

“Celestine.” Mom gasps. “I’m sorry, Mr. Berry, but Celestine has the tendency to be so literal about everything.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Mr. Berry says, studying me with his big smile, looking and sounding like there is everything wrong with all of that. “Like I said, today is procedural. You’ll deny the charge, then you’ll go home, and you’ll wait until trial tomorrow. It will be all over by the end of tomorrow. You need to think about character witnesses. Parents, siblings, best friends who’d die for you, that kind of thing.”

“My boyfriend, Art, is my best friend. He’ll speak for me.”

“Sweet,” he says, flicking through his documents, “but he won’t.”

“Why not?” I ask, surprised.

“Better if I ask the questions,” he says. “But seeing as you asked, Judge Crevan has decided he’s off-limits.”

I can tell he’s uncomfortable with this decision, and I understand why. Bosco could not ask his son to lie about my helping the old man to the seat. It makes sense to me, and yet I feel deeply disappointed not to have Art on my side. I need him, and I wonder how hard he fought to speak up for me, or if he fought at all.

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Nobody needs to hear how your boyfriend thinks you’re perfect. Every boyfriend either thinks that or will lie about it even if he doesn’t. And he won’t be called as a witness to the scene, because there are thirty other people who are leaping at the chance to do just that. In particular, Margaret and Fiona, the two ladies involved.”

I silently fume, then think hard. “My sister, Juniper.”

“No,” Mom says. “Juniper won’t be taking the stand,” she says to Mr. Berry.

They look at each other for a while, speaking a silent language that I don’t understand.

“Why not?” I ask.

“We’ll talk about that later,” she says, smiling, but her eyes are warning me to leave it alone.

So Juniper won’t speak on my behalf. Paranoia tells me she is ashamed of me, she has turned her back on me. She won’t lie for me, or my parents won’t let her lie. They don’t want me to drag her down with me. Why lose two daughters when you can just lose one? My bitterness takes me by surprise. Earlier I hadn’t wanted her to get into trouble, and now when I’m sinking deeper into it, I’m angered by those who are stepping away.