“I’m not like you and Juniper, Granddad,” I say sadly, feeling defeated. “This isn’t who I am. I follow rules, I like logic, I solve problems. I don’t speak out of turn on things I know nothing about. I don’t want to stand out. I want to fit in. I don’t want to be a poster girl for anything.”
“Oh, but you already are, Celestine. The tide is changing, and whether you wear the branding of the Flawed or you walk out of here a free woman, you’ll never be the same girl you were. They’ll be watching you, all of them, and who would you prefer they watch? You or the girl you’re pretending to be?”
TWENTY-ONE
Hi, Perfect Girl,
I hope you’re okay in there. I can’t believe they didn’t let you come home, but Dad says he’s doing everything he can for you. I want to be there for you, but I’m not allowed. Too much press, etc. Hope you understand, but I’m watching you on TV all the time. You look hot. I hope you’re wearing the anklet. You’ll always be perfect to me. Do whatever Dad and Berry Boy say, and we’ll be back on the summit before you know it.
I’m on your side.
Love always,
Art
PS-What did the elephant say to the naked man? How do you breathe through something so small?
I giggle and fold the letter into a tiny square and tuck it into my pocket. Love always! Love always!! Okay, it wasn’t I love you, but it’s close, isn’t it? Is it the same?
I don’t look at Carrick in the next cell, who’s lying on his bed with his back to everyone, no doubt hating me even more than he already did. Art’s words have given me hope that when I get out of here, there is a future for me and him. I hold on to that thought. I feel lifted, like I’ve been connected to the real world and this whole Flawed thing is a misunderstanding easily fixed. I don’t even notice Mom and Mr. Berry enter the cell; and when I look up, I realize it’s time.
“Green,” Mom says, displaying the most beautiful dress I have ever seen. “The color of nature, youth, spring, and hope.”
The dress is not entirely green. It contains the most beautiful scene, a picture of green leaves, flowers, exotic birds, a canvas of nature, of natural beautiful things.
“It’s also the color of envy,” Mr. Berry says, adjusting his green silk tie. “And that’s what we’ll be of every Flawed person in the country,” he says with a grin. “For today is the day, dear Celestine, that you will walk away from here exactly as you walked in.”
I find it a bad analogy. I will never be the same again. But maybe he wasn’t mistaken. I will be as judged when I leave as I was when I walked in. Granddad’s right. It will never end.
Before I leave the cell, I look at Carrick for something, a response of any kind. He is up from his bed now and his eyes run over my dress. I feel naked under his stare, but I can’t move.
He nods at me. A good-bye, a good luck, I don’t know, but it’s not angry. I nod back. I take a mental picture of him, knowing it’s the last time I’ll ever see him as our lives go in two very different directions.
*
Dad, Mom, me, and Mr. Berry, flanked on either side by Bark and Tina, stare at the closed double doors ahead of us. Something is going on, because Bark and Tina are holding riot shields, which seems to unsettle Mr. Berry. He checks his green tie at least five times. They all know something apart from me. As soon as the doors open, I see that the security and crowd have doubled since yesterday, as have the media. The crowds are being held back by barricades, and security wear helmets and hold bloodred riot shields in their leather-gloved hands. The sound from the crowd is unbearable. I can’t make out anything anyone is saying, but if you could trap anger in a jar, this is what you would hear each time you twisted the lid.