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,” Mum 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.
“You have other friends, I assume, and not just your sister and your boyfriend. We only need one.”
Art became my life after his mum passed away, and by spending so much time together, we managed to alienate our group, who, though they understood, also felt a little betrayed and left out. But I know Marlena, my closest friend since childhood, will support me, despite how left out she’s felt lately.
“You’ll be out of here by tonight,” Mr Berry says.
“They won’t keep me here?”
“No, no. They only do that in special cases, for those who are at risk of running, like that young man beside you.”
We all look at Soldier, and Mum visibly shudders. He looks so lost, so angry, he doesn’t stand a chance.
“Who is representing him?”
“Him?” Mr Berry snorts. “He has chosen to represent himself, and he is doing a very bad job. You would almost think he wants to be Flawed.”
“Who would want that?” Mum asks, turning away from him.
I think of the Flawed I pass every day, the people I can’t look in the eye, the people I take steps around to avoid even brushing against. Their scars as identifiers, their armbands, their limited possibilities, living in society but everything they want being just out of reach. You see them all standing at the curfew bus stops in town, to be home by ten pm in winter, eleven pm in summer. In the same world but not living in the same way. Do I want to be like them?
“What’s his name?” I ask.
“I have no idea,” Mr Berry says, bored, wanting to move on.
I look at him alone in there, me here with my selection of clothes, my mum, my representation, the head judge himself. I have people. He must hate me, yet that’s what I must do to get out of here with my life intact. A light goes on for me. I could be in a far worse position. I could be in his situation. All that separates me from him is a lie. I must become imperfect to prove that I am perfect. I have to do everything Mr Berry tells me to do.
Tina brings me a tray of food before I cross the courtyard to the court, but I am too nervous to eat. In the next cell, Soldier gobbles every bite as though his life depends on it.
“What’s his name?” I ask her.
“Him?” She gives him the same look as everyone else has, though she hasn’t treated me like that from the moment I arrived.
“Carrick.”
“Carrick,” I say aloud. Finally, he has a name.
Tina looks at me, eyes narrow and suspicious. “You should stay away from that boy.”
We both watch him, and then I feel the weight of her stare on me as I watch him.
I clear my throat, try to act like I don’t care. “What did he do?”
She looks at him again. “He didn’t need to do anything. Guys like him are just bad eggs.” She looks at my tray. “You’re not eating?”
I shake my head. I’d rather eat when I get home later.
“You’ll be fine, Celestine,” she says gently. “I have a daughter exactly the same age as you. You remind me of her. You shouldn’t be here. You’ll be at home tonight, in your own bed, where you belong.”
I smile at her in thanks.
“They’ve called me upstairs for a meeting.” She makes a face. “First time that’s happened. Wonder what I’ve done wrong.” She makes another face, and then, at my reaction, she laughs. “I’ll be coming back, don’t worry. You’re doing great, kiddo. We’ll go across to the court in thirty minutes, so eat up.”
I can’t touch my food. A new guard, Funar, appears, opens Carrick’s door, and says something to him. Whatever it is, Carrick is eager. He hops up and goes straight to the door. Funar comes to my cell next.
“You want to get some fresh air?”
I jump up. Absolutely. He unlocks my door and I walk behind Carrick, realising, as I see him up close for the first time and not through the glass, how solid and large he is. The muscles in his upper back are expansive, his biceps and triceps permanently flexed. I think about Art and feel guilty for even looking. Funar tries the side door that leads outside, but it’s locked.
“Damn it, I’ll have to go back for the key,” he says. “Sit there and don’t move. I’ll be back in a minute.”
He points to a bench by the wall in a corridor, and we both comply, sitting down side by side.
Our skin isn’t touching, but I can feel the heat from Carrick’s body from where I sit. He’s like a radiator. I’m not sure whether to say anything to him. I don’t even know what to say. He’s not the most approachable person I’ve ever met. Do I ask him about his case? It’s impossible to shoot the breeze in this situation. I sit, frozen, trying to think of something to say, trying to look at him when he’s not looking in my direction. I finally sense he’s about to say something when six people suddenly turn the corner into our corridor. The women are crying and huddling into the men, who are also red-eyed. They walk by us as though they’re in a funeral procession and enter through a door beside us. When it opens, I look in and see a small room with two rows of chairs. It’s facing a floor-to-ceiling pane of glass, which looks into another room. In the centre of the other room sits what looks like an oversized dentist’s chair, and there is a wall of metal units. I see a guard I met earlier named Bark, open one unit, and there is hot fire inside. Confused, I stare in, trying to figure it out.
Then a man, flanked by two guards, is brought
