Yes, I know, I should be updating on my other stories, but I couldn't resist! I am not Cassandra Clare, no matter how much I wish I were.
Clary was sitting around the kitchen table, waiting for Maia and Isabelle to get done complaining.
"He never takes me to any parties!" Isabelle cried, sounding horrified.
"Jordan is definitely getting better, but he wants to take me out when I don't want to go anywhere. He keeps thinking that he has to make up for turning me into a werewolf!" Maia grumbled.
Isabelle suddenly turned towards Clary. "How about you, Clary?"
Clary shrugged. "Nothing wrong so far."
"You are so lucky, Clary. You have every single boy here wrapped around your little finger!"
"What are you talking about, Isabelle? That doesn't make any sense!"
Maia snapped to attention. "Actually, it does, Clary. All of the guys would do anything for you."
"No they wouldn't." Clary denied. "Well, maybe Simon would."
"Seriously, you have each and every one of them wrapped around your little fingers." Isabelle nodded, suddenly dead serious.
"What are you planning?" Clary sighed, resigned to the fact that they were going to force her do something that she didn't want to.
"You're going to prove it to yourself. Ask each of them separately for something that you want, and then watch as you get served right to your front door." Isabelle explained. "Trust me."