What, something that revolves around Clace? I honestly never thought that something like this would pop up in my stories. Oh well, I love Clace to death, so I'm not complaining.
I thought of this little drabble, and maybe thought of making a series of AU high school drabbles that don't have a plot or story, they just are short one-shots that don't have anything to do with each other. What do you think? I wanna see if anyone else likes the idea.
Onto the short story! Hope you enjoy this randomness of a one-shot, but hey, it's cute, right?
Clary scowled at her reflection in the mirror. She was so done with this; she hated her hair.
The deep ginger curls were frizzy and hard to work with, and it was too early in the morning for her to bring herself to care about how her hair looked.
It's not that Clary was the typical girl who usually fussed about her hair on a daily basis, usually she'd just brush it, put it up and that would be that. But today she'd brushed it for nearly five rounds already, and it still looked like she'd just woken up.
Humidity. Clary's scowl deepened as the word popped up in her mind. It must be humid out today, no wonder her hair was so uncooperative.
Giving up after one more painful round of dragging the brush through her hair, she snatched up some pink barrettes from the bathroom drawer and set to work. About five minutes later her hair was in the messiest bun she had ever seen, but she deemed it presentable anyway.
Clary shuffled out of the bathroom gloomily. It was the beginning of November, it shouldn't be humid out! And the fact it was a Tuesday didn't improve her mood.
"You ready?" Luke's voice called from the kitchen as she came down the wooden stairs, creaking.
"Yeah," Clary mumbled back, thankfully loud enough for her step-father to hear. Well, soon to be step-father. But he was close enough to a father to her anyway she didn't really think of him as a step-father, and doubted she ever would.
"Great," Luke strode into the hallway, washing his hands on a towel, smiling warmly at her. "Go on, I'll meet you in the truck. I'll be right there."
Around fifteen minutes later she was stepping down from Luke's old beat up truck, and turned to face the dreaded New York Institute High School.
"See you later Clary!" Luke called as she started to head toward the entrance. She smiled at him over her shoulder as he drove away.
Clary huffed as she joined the crowd of students. It wasn't that the school was bad, it was a pretty good school, with bearable teachers and not that many strict rules. But Clary was starting to get the bored and repetitive feeling everyone gets in the middle of year.
As she hurried to her locker among the sea of students, she scanned the crowd. Not a trace of messy dark hair and glasses could be seen. Not even a witty t-shirt.
Frowning, she went to her first class as the bell rang, already willing the day to be over.
Her day had not improved so far. During lunch she had discovered the reason for Simon's absence. He was gone with a bad case of strep throat, leaving Clary alone for the day, suffering the ridiculous amount of homework they were getting. Teachers were already starting to jump at their necks about mid-year finals!
Just three more classes, Clary praised the thought. As she was walking to Regional World Studies, she nearly jumped out of her skin when we realized a boy's eyes were pinned on her.
This never happened. Clary met his eyes back defiantly, not knowing what to do or make of it. She realized he was staring at her hair, and she flushed.
She wanted to snap at him when she passed him. Yes, she knew it looked horrid. Did he need to stare? No. But the look in his eyes stopped her; his eyes weren't mocking at all.
Not knowing what to do, Clary ducked her head and quickened her pace, disappearing into Regional World Studies.
After the class, she was half-surprised to find the same boy right in front of her in the hallway once she exited, head tilted. He had curly blonde hair that moved with every tilt of his head, and the same sharp color of eyes.
She gave a start. "Hello."
He grinned at her, and she felt her heart jump, and she felt like scolding herself. You could practically see arrogance flooding off him in waves. Not the typical kind of guy who was ever interested in girls like Clary. She shifted her feet warily.
"Jace," He introduced, flashing another smile. "Jace Herondale. And you are?"
"Clary," She replied. "Are you new here? I've never seen you around."
Jace shrugged. "Yeah, but I already own this joint."
Clary shot him a look, and he laughed. They had started to walk down the hallway, since students were getting angry at them for blocking the doorway. At least, Clary was trying to get to her next class and get away from Jace. He seemed like the kind of boy you shouldn't trust, and was insanely gorgeous. But Jace seemed oblivious to the girl's attempts to rid of him.
"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Clary asked, as Jace didn't seem to even be trying to find his next class.
He shrugged again. "Probably. I left my schedule at home."
Clary rolled her eyes and realized Jace's eyes were trained on her hair again, and her temper flared. "Do you need something?" She snapped, and his lips twitched upward.
He didn't answer, but something about the glint in his eyes made Clary's stomach twist. Something had changed.
Without warning or preamble, Jace stepped forward and reached behind Clary's head. She stiffened in surprise, drawing in a breath as he fisted his hands in her hair. What on Earth was he doing?
Clay felt goose bumps rise over her skin as his fingers brushed her scalp. She drew in another sharp breath, but didn't move her green eyes from his, which were set back on hers.
She felt a gentle tug, and then his arms were drawing away, and she saw two pink barrettes clutched in his hand. Her lips parted in surprise as she felt her red curls spill onto her shoulders.
She felt heat rise into her face and her heart beat go wild as his eyes slid lazily from her feet to rest on her face. "Better," he conceded and stuffed his fist into his pocket.
Clary cleared her throat and he smirked. "See you tomorrow," and then he spun on his heel and sauntered away, leaving Clary frozen in place. She turned as if in slow motion and entered her next class. It was once the teacher had started giving notes and speeches did Clary realize he still had her barrettes.
Well-played, Jace Herondale, She thought grudgingly. Now she'd have to see him again, to get her barrettes back. Although, she wasn't too bothered by the thought.
As she doodled in the corner of the page, she couldn't fight off the tug at the corners of her mouth. Maybe she'd start wearing her hair down more often.