A/N: All human Jace Clary rubbish. Abused and broken Clary, Jackass Jace, Isabelle the Fashion Queen, and Simon (just Simon)
I AM NO WHERE AS GOOD AS CASSANDRA CLARE. I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING BUT THE PLOTLINE.
She hates him. She can't stand him. If he died, she wouldn't pain. She wanted Jace Lightwood to drop of the face of the Earth. Forever.
She hated his sarcastic attitude, his cocky smile, his blonde curls, his popular gang of footballers. She hated how he bullied her, how his friends would pour Coke down her back, even though she gave them no reaction.
Clary always believed this. She just didn't realized she was lying to herself.
He hates her. He can't stand her. If she died, he wouldn't pain.
He wanted Clary Fray to drop of the face of the Earth. Forever.He hated her quiet demeanor, her red curls, emerald eyes, and her pale skin. He hated how she would never answer him when he teased her. He hated how much of a nobody she was.Jace always believed this. He just didn't realized she was lying to himself.
Jace POV
I sit with his friends, like everyday. Our gang of football friends, all of which are on the team, consisted of me, Sebastian, Jonathan, Simon, and Raphael. Kaelie and Aline stared and whispered about us from one table over, and Isabelle plopped down next to us, as if she weren't the only girl at the table. Sebastian and I were the serious players, Simon was more relaxed, and Raphael was one of those dark and mysterious guys that, in my opinion, screamed Hit the ground and run for it! But my eyes are never on my friends at first. They were watching for her. Clary Fray. She had become my little victim, my target. And I enjoyed it. The only downside is she never really showed much emotion.
Then she came. A flash of fire red swerving away from the lunch line, as usual, but that wasn't what he payed attention to. I grabbed my ginger ale. This is just too easy. I dumped the rest of the drink on Clary's fiery head as she walked by. The can emptied and she stiffened, facing away from me, her black emerald green shirt damp with soda.
"Hey, Ginger," I smiled. "Thought you might be thirsty." The entire cafeteria burst into laughter. Clary turned to face me and looked like she was about to say something. I raised an eyebrow. Go on, I thought. I dare you. But Clary just spun on her heel and exited through the large double doors. Thought so, Ginger. Sebastian gave me a high five.
"Oh man," Sebastian grinned. "That was epic."
"I think you should leave her alone," Isabelle, my adoptive sister, frowned.
"Why?" Sebastian laughed. "Did you see the look on her face."
"She didn't even react." Isabelle gave him a duh look.
"Yah, but-"
"Don't 'Yah, but' me," Isabelle turned back to me. "C'mon Jace. You've been at it since she transferred in seventh grade. Three years is a long time."
I rolled my eyes. Whatever. Isabelle can do whatever she wants. She gets up and walks through the door after Clary, and Simon punches Raphael in the arm for saying that he was making dreamy eyes at her. Tell me something I don't know. Something tickles the back of my mind, and I realise its her. Clary.
Three years is a long time.
Clary POV
I walk calmly out of the lunch room and lock myself in the girls bathroom before I break down. I use this bathroom because no one else does. Its covered in dirt, the mirrors are smashed, and the water works in one of the sinks. I glimpse at myself in the mirror. The girl staring back at me has an unevenly toned face from all the concealer she uses, red curls that are damp with soda, and red eyes. I let a few tears stream over and pound my fist into one of the mirrors. Bits of glass break off, and my hand starts bleeding. I let out another frustrated scream.
"
Clary?" I turn around and see Isabelle, Jace's adoptive sister, closing the door and putting a hairpin back into her hair. She must have picked the lock. "Clary are you okay?"
I don't answer. When you set straight on being apathetic, you get used to not answering questions. Especially stupid questions like that. Yeah, Isabelle. I'm fine. I just have a bleeding hand and ginger ale in my hair.Ginger ale. Very funny, Jace. I settle on sinking to the floor and pull my black hoodie over my damp top. Isabelle crouches next to me with wet paper towels in her hand, and I flinch as she touches them to my face. She presses them along my hairline, matts my curls, getting out the soda. But then she brings the towel to the side of my face, and the concealer wipes away. She gasps, and I know what she sees.
Black and purple bruises, decorating my face.
"Clary . . .." she whispers. A tear streams down my face. "
Clary," she looks into my eyes for a second. "I won't tell anyone anything, but just let me do two things." Dumbfounded, I nod. Isabelle takes out a container of concealer. "One, let me show you how to do this so only remover can take this off," Isabelle smooths the cream to my face. "And two," she smiles. "Let me be your friend."
Friend.
I forgot the word existed.
But I smile and nod.
