My (super late) birthday present to the lovely spikeyhairgood. I love you, and I know that your birthday was forever ago, and I've had this written for like a month, so there's really no excuse for the lateness, but I hope you like it!


Based off of this prompt:

"you're singing a song dramatically at the bus stop and you get a word wrong and i correct you and we end up fighting over it and you drag me to your house to google it and i end up hanging around because you actually have really good music oh my god is that a signed edition?" au


It was freezing.

Which was expectedpredictable, the usual, blah, blah, blah—but still annoyed the shit out of Clarissa Adele Fray.

She shoved her hands in the pockets of her coat, hoping that the movement would provide some sort of temporary heat within her so that she didn't feel like she was going to break every two seconds. Her bones felt like they would crack, and even her thoughts were frozen.

There were a few people scattered on the sidewalk waiting for the school bus. She kept swaying from side to side, but she still felt like her knees were gonna give out any minute. She was shivering like crazy, and her back was killing her (she had all of her books in her backpack), and the goddamn bus was nowhere in sight.

A gust of wind hit her back, propelling her forward slightly, and she shivered, her frustration turning into annoyance as her hair flew all up in her face. Once the wind died down, she adjusted it with a shivering, cold-as-shit hand. She wanted the bus to get there, but the roads were coated with snow, so the bus was running late.

She heard laughter coming from her left, and she whirled around to find Jace Wayland, Sebastian Verlac, and Jordan Kyle walking towards the stop. They didn't even look a little cold. Noooo, of course not. They were laughing and pretty much acting as if the streets weren't full of snow—deathly, deathly, bone-breaking snow—and it wasn't, like, two degrees outside. Of course.

The three of them stood a few feet away from Clary. A few seconds passed, and it became clear that they were all going to be late for class. The bus was taking ages. Perfect, she thought, knowing full well that she had an AP Biology quiz first period.

Yo, I'll tell you what I want
What I really really want
So tell me what you want
What you really really want
I'll tell you what I want
What I really really want
So tell me what you want
What you really really want
I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna
I wanna really really really wanna zig-zag

Clary whirled around to face the voice that was belting out the beloved Spice Girls hit. Jace Wayland—jock, football player, great student, stunningly gorgeous—was facing his friend, Sebastian Verlac, and singing to him. He flailed his arms around dramatically, his eyebrows scrunched together, with soulful eyes and a sincere expression.

He was so insane.

If you want my future
Forget my past
If you wanna get with me
Better make it fast
Now don't go wastin'
My precious time
Get your act together
We could be just fine

He repeated the intro part with a straight face. Clary had to say that she was pretty impressed with him. His voice wasn't half bad, and she was definitely shocked that he hadn't broken down and laughed yet.

If you wanna be my lover
You've gotta get with my friends
Make it last forever
Friendship never ends

If you wanna be my lover
You have got to give
Takin' is too easy
But that's the way it is

This was unbelievable. She was pretty sure that everyone was staring at him, but he just kept going. Jordan was cracking up, while Sebastian was trying really hard to keep a straight face. The words just seemed to flow naturally out of Jace, however, and he never once looked like he was going to start laughing.

So here's a story from A to Z
You wanna get with me
You've gotta listen carefully
You got Em in the place, she likes it in your face
We've got G like MC who likes it on an
Easy V doesn't come for free, she's a real lady
And as for me, you'll see
Slam your body down and wind it all around
Slam your body down and wind it all around

He sang the rest of the song, but Clary made a mental note of something, and she was not going to let it go. When he finished singing, everyone clapped, including Sebastian, but she just walked up to him, despite the fact that she had never spoken to him outside of school, and said:

"You sang the wrong lyrics."

Jace whirled around to face her. His cheeks were still red, though she didn't know whether that was due to the cold or because of the thrilling/dramatic singing experience. Regardless, the red cheeks made him look younger—and infinitely less intimidating.

"What?" he asked.

"To the song. 'Wannabe'. You sang the wrong lyrics."

He scoffed. Actually scoffed. "I'm pretty sure I know the lyrics to the song. I'm pretty sure every living person on this planet knows the lyrics to the song." He cocked his head to the side. "You're Clary, right?"

"Yes. And it just so happens that you sang the wrong ones."

"Prove it."

"Okay. It's during the bridge. You said you instead of we—"

"When?"

"It's we've got Em in the place, not you've got Em in the place." She glared at him. "And then it's who likes it in your face, not she likes it in your face."

"You're wrong," he said, even though she knew that she was, indeed, correct.

"Fine." She stood up straighter. "Let's look up the lyrics."

"This is ridiculous," Jordan said. "Look, Clary—"

"Zip it, Kyle. I'm looking them up."

She pulled out her phone with shaking hands. Of course, though, that was when the bus decided to pull up. She rolled her eyes at her luck.

"I'm sitting with you," Jace told her. "We're settling this."

"Fine by me," Clary replied. "I'm right."

"Or so you'd like me to believe."

She rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to give him the finger. The two of them got on the bus and sat together, with Jordan and Sebastian in front of them.

"Okay." Clary took out her phone, as did he. "Game on."

As the two of them looked the lyrics on their respective phones, the thrill of being right had already begun coursing through Clary's veins. She wasn't really very competitive, but he brought out that side of her, apparently, which did not lay as dormant as she thought.

"See!" She shoved her phone in his face. "We. Not you. WE. And who. Not she. No. Nope. Who."

He groaned. "Impossible."

Despite the myriad of evidence that she presented him, Jace stood his ground. He was very stubborn, she noticed, but she could match that stubbornness in the blink of an eye. The two of them battled it out on the way to school, and, as they got out of the bus, they still did not settle the debate.

"I have an idea," Jace said. "I own the CD—"

"You have issues."

"—and I have it at home. The only lyrics I'll believe are the ones on the booklet. So." He stopped her, despite the fact that, of course, they were outrageously late, and she had that AP Bio test. "Come over to my house, and we'll settle this."

She rolled her eyes. "Can't I just give you my phone?" She kept walking, and he kept up with her easily. She even had to walk a little faster to catch up with him (she had short legs; he did not), but she didn't let it show.

"But that would be so anticlimactic."

He was right. "Fine. We'll walk together from the bus stop." This is so weird, she thought to herself, but brushed it off. Weirder things had happened; that she was sure of.

"Fine. But I'm right."

Before she could argue, the bell rang loudly, making her skin crawl. "Goddamn it." She glared at him. "You're wrong, you know."

And then she walked away.


The sun had finally come out by the time school ended, for which Clary was grateful.

She was still cold, though, so she kept her coat on as she and Jace walked to his house. She'd texted her mother and told her that she was going over to a friend's house, which was a half-truth—or a half-lie, depending on how one saw it.

"This is so silly," Clary said, breaking the silence. "I presented you with the necessary evidence—"

"Well, I need more than that," he replied simply. "Which, in my opinion, is perfectly understandable."

"Your opinion is crap."

"Ouch, Fray. Your words have hurt me."

She rolled her eyes at his lack of subtle sarcasm. "Yeah, yeah. Are we close yet?"

"Sure."

"Sure?"

"Yes. Yes, we're close. But," he went on, "closeness is relative."

"Shut your pretentious pie hole, Wayland."

He grinned—actually, full on grinned—and she had to admit that it wasn't a bad sight. None of it was, actually. She looked down at the snow-coated ground and kept walking, trying not to make a big deal out of the fact that she just now realized how attractive he was.

"Wait." She stopped dead in her tracks and looked at him. "Aren't you on the football team?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Why?"

"Don't you have practice?"

He shook his head. "Not today. Snow," he added.

They reached his house soon after. It wasn't too different from her own, really, except it was slightly bigger, and it had a pool in the backyard. The back of it faced a lake, and it was gorgeous. Stunning. She didn't know how Jace ever got out, how he didn't just stare out the window for days. The view was crazy.

They went up to his room. One of his floorboards made a creaking noise, but they both ignored it as they made their way up. Once she actually stepped inside Jace Wayland's room, she was surprised by how absolutely bare it was.

The walls were white. There was a bed—with white sheets and a navy blue comforter—and he had blackout curtains (which were her favorites) and his desk was a dark, rich wood (or so she guessed) and he had a billion shelves in his room. They were the only lively things, really. He had one shelf full of books; it was almost overflowing. It looked nice, she thought. He'd had to stack them up in a billion different ways for them to fit, she noted. The other two shelves, though, were full of music.

So maybe there weren't billions of shelves, but she had never seen a collection of music so big in her entirely life—at least not outside of movies and record stores. He had CDs and vinyls. She ran her hands through his collection. This is crazy, she thought to herself.

"Okay." He set his bag down. "Do you wanna give me your bag?"

She smiled. "Sure." She handed it to him, and she took note of his expression, for he was taken aback by the impressive weight she carried around all day.

"How do you handle this?" He shook his head and set it down by the bed. "You're so…"

She raised her eyebrows. "What? Tiny? Frail? Breakable?"

"I was gonna say short."

"Doesn't mean I can't hold my own."

"Trust me, I know you can hold your own."

"Good. So we're clear, then."

"Crystal."

"So." She searched his collection. "Is the Spice Girls album a vinyl or just a CD?"

"CD."

"Thank God."

She found it soon enough. Thankfully, he had his music organized in a way that she understood: by author, and then alphabetically by record. She took out the booklet and searched for the lyrics to "Wannabe." Once she found them, she walked over to where Jace stood.

"Suck my dick, Wayland."

He read the lyrics—which, sure enough, were the ones she'd been saying were right the whole time—and groaned. "I am very disappointed in myself."

"I'm sure the Spice Girls will forgive your sins." She patted him in the back and placed the booklet inside the case once more. Once Spice was back in its rightful place, she roamed his music library.

Surprisingly, they had similar tastes. It ranged from stuff like Kelly Clarkson and Avril Lavigne (which she was definitely using against him later) to bands like Arctic Monkeys and The Neighbourhood and Radical Face and Paramore and Bastille. He had The Fray and Ed Sheeran and Death Cab For Cutie and Fun. And he had The Front Bottoms and the Rock of Ages soundtrack and the Perks of Being a Wallflower soundtrack. He even had The Fault in Our Stars soundtrack. He had Letters to Cleo and The Beatles and Mumford and Sons and Of Monsters and Men and Panic! At The Disco and Switchfoot. He had so many albums, and she wanted to listen to all of them.

"See anything you like?"

His voice startled her. She nodded. "Surprisingly, yeah. Lots of things. You even have Marina and the Diamonds here."

"What can I say?" He shrugged. "'How to Be a Heartbreaker' and 'Bubblegum Bitch' are some of my favorites."

She shook her head. "I like your collection. Very impressive."

"And yours?"

"Could get me into jail."

"Illegal downloads?"

"All the way, my friend."

He sighed. "Okay, how much homework do you have?"

"A lot. Why?"

"I have a proposition for you."

"Oh boy."

"Just listen." He stood in front of her. "Do you wanna stay here and listen to some records and study?"

"No funny business?"

He looked like he was trying not to laugh. "No funny business."

It was actually slightly disappointing, though she couldn't pinpoint why. "That sounds good."

"You can take the bed," he told her. "Or the desk."

"Bed. But make sure I don't fall asleep."

"Noted."

As she took out her AP Bio, Chemistry, and AP Spanish books (because, yes, she was taking two sciences in one year), she couldn't help but smile (while looking away, of course). She liked that they could bicker so easily. Most people hated banter/bicker, but not Clary. She lived for that kind of stuff.

"Pick an album," Jace told her.

"Really?"

"Any album," he said.

She smirked. "Okay."

A few minutes later, Kelly Clarkson's voice filled the room. She walked back to the bed, not once meeting his eyes. It was only once she'd gotten comfortable in bed that she dared look over. He was, predictably, glaring at her.

"It's yours, isn't it?"

His glare intensified. "Shut your pie hole, Fray."

The two of them worked to Kelly Clarkson's voice. As Clary made notes in her AP Bio book, she sang along to "My Life Would Suck Without You" while smiling absentmindedly.

And, even though he'd been glaring a few moments later, Jace joined in.


A whole Kelly Clarkson album later, Clary finally finished her homework.

She slammed her Chemistry book shut loudly, which made Jace look up with a raised eyebrow. "Anger issues?" he asked.

"When it comes to science that involves math, then yes."

He smiled. "Did you finish?"

"Yup." She looked at her phone. It was already six, which meant that her mother was probably getting home soon, and it was going to start getting dark. "I should probably get going."

"Yeah." He stood up.

She followed suit, putting on her coat and picking her backpack up from the floor before shoving her books inside. She made sure she had everything—bag, all of her books, pencils, and phone—before facing Jace.

"I'm ready."

He started leading her out before stopping abruptly, making her almost run into him. "Wait."

"Okay…"

"One sec."

She watched as he went over to his collection. "I know you don't have a record player," he told her. "But I have this CD in almost every format. And I know you haven't listened to the whole thing, so…" He walked over to her. "Here you go."

It was In A Perfect World. Kodaline. Sometime between the studying and getting snacks and groaning because of school, the album had come up, and she had confessed exactly what he'd just stated: that she'd never listened to the full album. "Wow."

"Listen to it," he told her. "I wanna hear what you think."

The whole thing was still odd, but she could get used to odd. With a half-smile on her face, she nodded. "Okay." She was still slightly skeptical, but she couldn't help it; she was raised to question everything. "Give me your phone."

"What?"

"Well, I'm not gonna tell you what I think telepathically, am I?" She held her hand out, impatient. "I'm plugging in my number, and then I'm gonna call it, and then I'll be able to talk to you as I listen to the CD. Cell phones are real helpful inventions, Mr. Wayland."

He rolled his eyes and handed her his phone. "Don't sass me."

"I'll do what I want."

Jace sighed. "Fair enough."

After the phone number thing was settled, he walked Clary out. She stopped to admire the view of the lake one last time before following him to the door. He opened it, and she stepped out, whirling around to face him before he could close the entrance.

"Thank you," she blurted out. "For inviting me to come over. I mean, I totally deserved it, because you're a pain in the ass, and because you were wrong, but thank you anyway."

"You're welcome."

"I'll text you."

"I'll be waiting."

She shook her head. "Bye."

"Bye, Clary."

She smiled the whole way home, unable to shake the feeling that this was bigger than she could even begin to imagine.