Free Flawed by Cecelia Ahern Page B

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.
    â€œEvery 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.
    â€œEveryone is ready and waiting to use you for their own good, just you remember that.”
    Everyone? “And what’s your angle?” I ask.
    â€œCelestine.” Mom gasps. “I’m sorry, Mr. Berry, but Celestine has the tendency to be so literal about everything.”
    â€œNothing 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.”
    â€œMy boyfriend, Art, is my best friend. He’ll speak for me.”
    â€œSweet,” he says, flicking through his documents, “but he won’t.”
    â€œWhy not?” I ask, surprised.
    â€œBetter 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.
    â€œAnyway, 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.”
    â€œNo,” 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.
    â€œWhy not?” I ask.
    â€œWe’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.
    â€œYou have other friends, I assume,