The Diamonds (3 page)

“All rise for the Honorable Judge Townsen,” Marco instructed.

“Thank you, Marco.” Townsen settled into his chair. “You may all be seated. Prosecution, you may call your next witness.”

Tommy, who'd pretty much been steering the trial single-handedly, stood and cleared his throat. He had a nice-looking face—sharp where Jed's was round—a good complexion, and wavy black hair. The major difference between them was that while Jed was sure of himself, Tommy was
full
of himself, running around the school holding interviews with cafeteria workers, teachers, and select students, fretting over a newspaper that no one read.

“The prosecution would like to call—”

“Cotton Mather to the stand,” said Clarissa, her smooth, clear voice sounding in the classroom like a wind chime.

Tommy looked at her, shocked. “Uh, Clarissa, what are you doing?”

“Sit down, Tommy,” she said, pushing him gently
to his seat. The jury looked incredibly interested in what was going on. Sherry Something—a new student at Bennington as of that year—rubbed her hands together eagerly.

“What
is
she doing?” I whispered to Lili, leaning in for an explanation.

“Just watch.”

“You do realize, Ms. von Dyke, that Cotton Mather has already been questioned by the prosecution,” said Mr. Townsen.

Clarissa, sporting a smile that was both wicked and wonderful, simply replied, “Yes.”

There were a few murmurs in the room. I wasn't sure exactly what Clarissa was up to—one never really knew—but I had the feeling it was something underhanded, dirty, and spectacular all at once. You see, the person playing the role of Cotton Mather, the seventeenth-century Puritan minister, was none other than the former love of my life: Jed Brantley.

If this were a horror movie, right then would've been the cue for the musical
duh duh duh!
It was also the moment that Jenny Murphy decided to pipe up. “Your Honor,” she said, her voice startlingly brassy, “I object!”

Personally, I'd never gotten the impression that Mr. Townsen liked Jenny all that much. She was a very in-your-face type of girl, and while I understood why some teachers—the older, stiffer, highly medicated ones—adored her eager-beaverness, I liked to believe that Townsen could see right through her perfectly
planned exterior. Perhaps if anyone else had been the defense attorney and objected, he might have acceded; what he did, however, was shake his head as if her mere presence bored him.

“Motion overruled, Ms. Murphy,” Townsen said regally. Then, in his normal voice, he added, “Get on up here, Jed.”

I braced myself to see Jed for the first time since that morning on Mrs. Bloom's television screen, clenching my fists so tightly my fingernails practically cut through the skin of my palms. A few seconds went by before Jed tottered forward, avoiding my eyes as he claimed the witness stand.

Bryan Jermaine, a lanky, dark-skinned kid who I think was on the basketball team, played the part of the bailiff. “Do you swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“I do,” Jed answered.

To an outsider, Jed might have seemed calm and unconcerned. But I could tell he was nervous. Maybe he'd feel guilty and apologize or admit the entire thing was a joke and ask for my forgiveness. Deep down, I knew that if Jed wanted me back, I would say
yes
. How pathetic is that? Unfortunately, the more I thought about it, the clearer it became: this was no joke.

“Cotton,” Clarissa said, getting into character by lowering her voice, “yesterday you described the strange behavior the four Goodwin children exhibited, behavior which
you
attributed to witchcraft. Is that correct?”

More than anything, I was shocked that Clarissa had been paying attention.

“Yes,” Jed answered.

“Is there anything you would like to add to your statement?”

“No?”

Clarissa looked knowingly at the jury, then back at Jed. “Are you sure? Are you
really
sure?”

“Objection!” Jenny Murphy stood up from her seat. “Honestly. What is going on?”

Mr. Townsen gave a little hum. “Does the prosecution have a point?”

“Of course,” Clarissa said, stopping in the middle of the room. “My
point
is that perhaps the Goodwin children are not the
only
ones under the influence of witchcraft!

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” she said coolly, “I would like to charge Cotton Mather, also known under his civilian name, Jed Brantley, with a crime. A crime of love.” She located Jordan Durrel, one of the jurors, and winked. “Let us provide justice to Marni Valentine, who was disgraced this morning by Mr. Brantley and Ms. McKibbon, a known witch, for the entire world to see. Well, the entire school.”

I inhaled sharply. In less than five minutes, my best friend had morphed a
mock
trial into a real one.

“They are being tried here today on one ruthless charge: Intentional Heartbreak. And I assure you, my fellow students, they are
indeed
guilty.”

“Yes, girl!” Priya shouted. “Take 'em down!”

Tommy turned toward me. He was frowning. “Did you plan this?”

I shook my head.

“This is ridiculous!” Jenny shouted. Her lips were curled back, and the veins in her neck bulged. “Can we
please
get back to the assignment? I have all my notes right here,” she said, waving a fistful of paper in the air.

Mr. Townsen looked thoughtfully at the class. I could only assume he was in Judiciary Heaven. “You've piqued my interest, Ms. von Dyke. Please continue.”

Clarissa bowed her head. “Thank you.” With two steps, she was right beside Jed, who fidgeted on his stool. “What would you say, Mr. Brantley, if I were to inform you that an eyewitness saw you kissing Ms. McKibbon outside the Burger Shack last Friday night?”

I actually gasped. That Friday night, Jed and I were supposed to go to the movies, but he'd canceled because he was “sick”—the stomach flu or something. He'd been at the
Burger Shack
? With
Darcy
? Gross.

“Can I plead the Fifth?” Jed asked.

Clarissa turned to me for help.

I shook my head. “Since the defendant has already answered questions from the prosecutor during this proceeding, he is no longer protected by his Fifth Amendment rights. Also, this isn't exactly a real trial, so … no.”

“In case you're unclear, Mr. Brantley,” Clarissa said, “you may
not
plead the Fifth.”

“Eat him alive!” Priya bellowed.

Mr. Townsen banged his gavel. (Yes, he actually had a gavel.) “Order in the court!”

“Moving on,” Clarissa said, an actual spark in her eyes. “What if I were to tell you, Mr. Brantley, that I have the pictures to prove it?”

Jed's entire face began to tremble. For someone who usually kept his cool, he appeared to be on the verge of collapsing.

“Let me tell you what I think happened,” said Clarissa, turning to face the rest of the class. “I think you were growing tired of your longtime girlfriend, Ms. Valentine. Who looks totally cute today, by the way”—she smiled in my direction—“and I think Ms. McKibbon, using her witchlike voodoo powers, perhaps even placing you under a hex or a curse”—she smirked in Darcy's direction—“intrigued you. You started seeing her secretly, behind Marni's back, but in order to protect yourself and your student government position—elections are, after all, in only a few weeks—being well aware that your relationship with Marni undeniably boosts your status, kept said relationship under wraps. But then you got anxious. Jumpy. Maybe Darcy threatened to leave you if you didn't come clean.
I don't know
. I
do
know one thing, though.”

Jed's lips were moving, but no words came out.

“You got caught.” Clarissa brought her hands down
on Mr. Townsen's desk in a smack that stung the heavy air. “What do you have to say for yourself now?”

At that moment, I noticed a strange look pass between Clarissa and Jed. It was something—fear, anger, determination—I couldn't quite place my finger on.

“It's true,” Jed said. His lips looked dry, and I remembered that his tube of Chap Stick was inside my bag. He was never getting that shit back.

“Darcy and I have been, erm,
seeing
each other for a while now. Marni didn't know. I was going to wait until after the elections to say something, but Darcy threatened to tell Marni herself if I didn't do it first.” Then he looked at me. It was a pitiful look, one that made my heart threaten to escape my rib cage, my blood quicken, and my eyes flood with tears. “I'm sorry.”

Mr. Townsen banged his gavel (again). “That will be enough, Mr. Brantley. Please step down from the witness stand and take your seat.”

Jed drifted toward the defense area and sat right behind Darcy, who shielded her eyes with thick fingers.

“Ms. Murphy,” said Mr. Townsen, leaning back in his chair. “Thoughts?”

Jenny leaned over and whispered something into Jed's ear. I couldn't hear what it was, but he nodded, and then she rose. “With the understanding that I think this is absolutely ridiculous and completely irrelevant to the actual assignment,” she said, “in light of Jed's testimony, the defense would like to enter a plea of guilty.”

As quickly as it had begun, the trial was over. I clapped my hands lightly and looked at the Diamonds, who were beaming. Lili placed an arm around my shoulder, and Clarissa's smile was brighter than the sun. (Priya even put her sunglasses back on.) I wasn't sure what exactly I had won—I no longer had my boy-friend or my pride, after all—but it felt good not to, well,
lose
.

“Accepted,” said Mr. Townsen. “Ms. von Dyke?”

Clarissa wasn't typically one for speeches; at the same time, she wasn't typically one for due process of the law. I was hardly surprised when she launched into a lengthy monologue, heels planted firmly on the floor.

“Marni Valentine is a wonderful friend and an even better girlfriend. What Jed and Darcy have done to her is unforgivable. Today, in this very room, we have a chance to make a decision. No more sitting back and crying to your friends about being dumped, girls, or storing up hatred and resentment alongside your testosterone, gentlemen.

“Nick,” Clarissa said, approaching the jury. Nick Rosedale, a semihot soccer player, leaned forward. “How would
you
feel if you found out that Lauren, your girlfriend of eight months, was cheating on you?”

“Awful,” Nick said. “That would suck.”

“It was a rhetorical question, but good answer.” Clarissa shifted her gaze. “Leigh Ann. Freddy Meyers dumped you last spring and started dating Betty Smith-Condenzo barely two weeks later. You must have been heartbroken.”

Leigh Ann Stergman was sitting a few seats down from Nick. She wiped underneath her eyes and nodded.

“Derek,” said Clarissa, resting her hands on her hips. “You've never had a girlfriend, have you?”

Derek Fishman shook his head. Everyone at Bennington knew that the closest he'd ever been to a girl was riding his bike, which he'd named Vanessa, to school every day. (True story.)

“Well, imagine someone cut the lock on your bicycle and stole it, and then, the following week, you saw that person riding
your
bike all over town. Wouldn't that
enrage
you?”

“Yes,” Derek hissed. “Very much so.”

Clarissa smiled. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. Everyone in this room has been dumped. Or will be. Everyone has had their heart ripped in two. This is the moment to stand up for yourselves. For
every single person
who has been cheated on, screwed over, or completely blown off. So, my fellow classmates,
do
something about it!”

Clarissa's speech shocked me mostly because she had single-handedly dumped more guys than all the girls at Bennington combined. Plus, I'd never heard her speak so passionately about anything that didn't have a price tag—including our friendship. I was touched.

Apparently, so was Mr. Townsen. “Let's turn to the jury for their verdict,” he said. “Would you like time to deliberate?” He paused. “You're all required to be here anyway.”

The room was quiet for a few seconds. Then came a
voice: “That won't be necessary.” I leaned forward and saw that Sherry Something, now standing, was wearing a pair of Bedazzled overalls. What was she
thinking?
“We've already reached our decision.”

“Go ahead,” Townsen said, obviously intrigued.

Keith Rosen, who still had braces, passed Sherry a folded piece of paper. She opened it and began to read: “‘We, the jury, find the defendants, Jed Brantley and Darcy McKibbon, guilty of Intentional Heartbreak. Their punishment is no PDA—public displays of affection—on or around school property for the rest of the school year.’” She then crumpled up the piece of paper and sat back down.

Before her butt hit the chair, people started to cheer. It was a twenty-person class, so nothing too loud, but Marco whistled with his fingers and Priya shouted things like “Gotcha!” and “Mmm, mmm!” while Darcy closed her eyes and Jed sat completely still, like a statue. This certainly wasn't good for his reputation.

“Thanks, guys,” I said as the bell rang and everyone began filing out of the classroom. There was one thing still bothering me, though. I turned to Clarissa. “Do you really have pictures of them kissing?”

“Oh, Marni,” she said, taking my hands in hers. “Of course not. I would have told you if I did.”

“So … how do you know they were at the Burger Shack together?”

“Does it matter? Jed
admitted
it, and we got him back. Just like I promised.”

“You're right,” I said, forcing a smile. “And all of those nice things you said, Clarissa—you really didn't have to go through so much trouble just for me.”

“Of course I did. Boys will come and go, but Diamonds are forever. Right?”

“Right,” Priya and Lili agreed simultaneously.

We were about to exit the classroom when Mr. Townsen blocked the doorway, resting one arm on the white frame. “May I have a word, ladies?”