Author's Note: Hello lovely readers! This idea popped into my head and I thought, 'why the hell not?' so, here is an all human story with the mortal instrument characters, who I am currently bending to my will, but have no real ownership of anything.
Disclaimer: Nope. Not a damn thing.
Feedback determines if I continue this story or not, so please tell me what you think! Izzy/Clary friendship. Alec is gay, he's not in love with Jace, though. Jonathon isn't evil, at all. This goes pretty dark in later chapters, but I assure that it is all fiction. If abuse, self-harm, or rape upset you, please proceed with caution. Although, nothing like that in this first chapter. Again, everything is fake. I made it up!
On that note . . . happy reading.
The kindest hearts are the ones that have experienced the most pain. The most beautiful eyes hide a world of extraordinary hurt and lies. The most damaged souls are the hardest to find.
•••
1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . . Alarm blares.
Clary rolls over and slides the screen on her cell phone alarm, putting an end to insistent ringing, determined as all hell to wake you up from blessed sleep. Not that Clary slept, but she liked the delusion for as long as she could get it.
This morning, was one of the mornings she did not feel like going out for a run, which was unusual. Her anxiety usually only calmed when running, but this morning was the morning. The morning of her first day of junior year at Idris High School. A no name school in a no name town with a bunch of no names doing no name things. Yes . . . she was bitter.
New town. New school. New fucking identity. Not that she left much of an identity behind in California. But at least in Cali she didn't have to relive the whole, 'why don't you talk?' questions. People in L.A. had long since gotten used to the redheaded freak who kept to herself and barely made eye contact let alone open her mouth.
Now, she had to go through it again. Like once wasn't scarring enough. To say the least, she wanted to crawl under a rock and not come out until she was no longer breathing, but, that seemed a tad over dramatic, even to her. It's just school, Jon will be with you the whole time. She reminded herself silently.
Don't freak. Keep calm. You will make it. She chanted her mantra over and over again in her head until the tight swelling of anxiety loosened, allowing oxygen to flow freely into her lungs and send blood to her brain. What now? Shower, right.
Clary didn't get out from under the warm confines of her comforter for a long time. When she did, it was incredibly slow. Like slowing her pace would slow down time and prolong the time she had left between breakfast and first bell. She made fast work on her clothing and took a quick, boiling shower. Hot water always seemed to refresh her.
The water was so hot that it nearly stung, but cold water seemed like hell and luke-warm seemed extraordinarily uncomfortable. So boiling, hot, stinging water it was. Fuck, she was a freak.
•••
A knock on her door, slapped Clary from her examination of her clothes. "Clare! C'mon!" Jon's slightly groggy voice echoed through her door and she smirked.
"In a sec!" She called back, it would probably take her a lot more than a second to put her clothes on, fix her hair, and grab her bag, but by his muffled grumble he understood that. She heard footsteps getting farther and farther away and when she could no longer hear anything, she turned to her closet and let the towel drop.
A fresh pair of panties, a bra, a pair of ripped maroon jeans, and a form fitting black sweater later and she was dressed. As she slipped on a pair of black vans and stared at herself in the mirror, she tried to decide just how she should style her hair. He always liked it down. She didn't really like it down anymore. So she went with a side French braid that ended just at her left breast. She nodded, she looked good.
After grabbing her bag and phone, she left her room and jogged down the stairs. She found Jon and her mother in the kitchen. Jon stuffing his face with Twinkies and their mother casually sipping coffee while reading the newspaper.
"Alright, honey. Have everything you need?" Jocelyn asked, giving her daughter a wide smile, but Clary could see the dark patches under her eyes. She wasn't sleeping. None of them were. Hopefully this move would turn out to be for the best. Clary just nodded and reached into the fridge, pulling out the OJ and pouring herself a glass. Just as she set the carton down, Jon lifted it to his mouth and sucked back, most likely, the entire thing.
He proved her suspicions when he tossed the carton away and then released a loud belch. Both females froze and looked up at him. He shrugged and smiled unapologetically. Typical Jonathon.
"Let's go, red." He sang and grabbed his binder, kissing his mother on the cheek before walking out of the kitchen. Clary hugged her mom.
"Have a nice day." She whispered and Clary knew she wanted to tell her to make friends, but Jocelyn learned a long time ago that this wasn't something Clary would ever be doing. Ever.
Clary smiled tightly and turned, grabbing her bag before following in the direction Jonathon had gone.
"Dolly is currently in the shop, so we walk or we bus it." Jon said, referring to his car, as Clary walked out onto the porch. Jon leaped from the ledge of the porch railing and landed gracefully, nearly ten feet away. Clary rolled her eyes at Jon's spider-monkey tendencies. Seriously, the guy wasn't human.
"We can walk . . . how far?" She asked and he winced.
"Five miles." He answered and she glanced at her clock phone, yeah, they'd never make it in time. They were already going to be the center of attention, no need to add tardiness to the list of all the, 'look at me.' qualities.
"Bus it." She answered and he nodded, leading her down to the bus stop he must have scouted over the weekend. Jon was always prepared, for anything and everything. He was a protective fucker, but in the end he was sweet and fluffy. Large as a bear, but when you knew him, when he loved you. He was a teddy bear, all the way. Unlike Sebastian, his twin brother. Seb died three years ago. Clary shuddered in remembrance.
After about a four minute walk in the dark, Clary noted at few outlines of bodies with book bags. All standing near a stop sign. None of them standing together, but all waiting for the same thing. Separate in a world they shared. Belonging, just not to each other.
Not one of them took notice or seemed to care about the two new arrivals and Clary did her best to keep her head down and her eyes pinned to the ground. Jon started to pace in short motions. Patience wasn't his virtue.
"Jace, hurry the fuck up!" A loud female voice yelled and it drew Clary's attention. Her eyes danced up to see two figures walking quickly toward the bus stop. Down the street directly across from them, Clary noticed a bus turning down. It's large flashing light signaling their transportation arrival. Father behind the two figures was a larger one. Walking at a leisurely pace as if he had all of the time in the world.
"Yeah, you see, Iz, not truly in any fucking hurry to go listen to teachers bitch and moan about paychecks all day. So, calm your shit!" A smooth, deep masculine voice erupted from the figure behind the two who had arrived at the stop, just as the bus released its stop sign and opened its doors.
The three figures that had already been standing here when Clary and Jon arrived got on quickly as did the girl and boy who had just arrived. Jon was next, but Clary didn't move.
"Clare." Jon said and the guy who had been walking slowly reached the curb, Clary moved and Jon gave her a look, asking her 'what the fuck?' that was. She honestly didn't know, she just didn't want him to miss the bus. It was weird, because she didn't even know the guy's name or what he looked like or even who the hell he was. She just didn't want him to miss the bus. And she truly didn't understand why.
Clary took a seat in the middle of the bus and Jon sat next to her, by the window. She almost felt bad. He was six foot three and it was probably uncomfortable walking on the bus, let alone having to fold his entire body to accustom himself to the small area where the legs could go. But it was Jon and if he had a fucking problem with it, he would tell her . . . maybe.
"Thank you."
Clary's entire body tensed, every muscle and cell in her being coiled in alertness at the sound of the voice in her ear, warm breath fanning across the side of her neck. She hadn't even noticed him walk by. She turned her head to the side and he was leaning over the back of her seat, smiling at her. A smile that looked entirely too fake and entirely too charming. One that probably got him the reputation of a wham, bam, thank you ma'am kind of guy. He definitely had the whole drop-dead gorgeous face thing going on and if his large broad shoulders hunched over was any indication, he had the body too.
He was the type Clary stayed very far away from. They were dangerous. Especially the pretty ones. Whoever said beauty was purity is stupid as fuck. To Clary, the beautiful ones were the ones that you had to look out for, because even Lucifer was an angel.
"I'm Jace, beautiful, and you are?" He asked. Beautiful. The compliment meant and affected her a lot more than it should have. No one. No one, had ever called her beautiful. Well, her mom, but she was far too bias. It sent a flutter in her chest that pissed her off so much, she stood from her seat and sat angrily in the closest seat to the front. Causing a gorgeous brunette to very nearly lose her mascara. Clary caught it swiftly, just before it could screech across her face.
The brunette did, however, release a squeal of surprise. She turned to Clary, who stared at her, waiting for the bitchy comment or slap across the face, she'd gotten both at one time or another. However, this girl did none of those things. She laughed slightly.
"Nice catch." She chuckled and Clary pulled the mascara back and handed it to her. Offering an apologetic glance.
"I'm Isabelle." She said and Clary just nodded. When Clary didn't answer, Isabelle's eyes dipped down to the necklace around Clary's neck.
"Clary?" She asked and Clary just nodded, reaching up to grip the necklace her grandmother had given her on her tenth birthday. She had never taken it off and most time, forgot it even hung there. Isabelle smiled.
"My friends call me Izzy." She chirped and Clary suddenly felt a rise of bitchiness, but she couldn't talk. She can't. Talking let people in. Talking hurt people. She couldn't hurt anyone. She couldn't bring anyone else into this so-called life she lived.
Mom and Jon were different, they knew everything. She couldn't hide from them, no matter how much she wanted to, but she could hide from others. She could be safe, without a voice, but most importantly, she could keep everyone else around her safe, too.
"So . . . where are you from?" Izzy asked and Clary looked at her hands, wondering briefly why in the fuck she wasn't moving.
"Okay, cool, um. Across the country?" Izzy asked and Clary nodded.
"That sucks. I would literally kill my parents if they did that. It must be hard, the big a move, but don't worry. Stick with me and you'll be all good." Izzy winked and shock filled Clary's veins. This girl was being nice. Okay, Clary was confused. Izzy laughed at what was most likely a confusion marred face.
"My brothers say I talk too much and you don't seem to talk at all. So I guess we'll balance each other out. Besides, I don't really have any girlfriends and you don't seem like a bitch, so we'll get along just fine." Clary didn't know what surprised her more, the fact that this girl didn't have tons of girlfriends or the fact that she wanted to be Clary's friend. The bus stopped.
"Do you have a schedule yet?" Izzy asked and Clary nodded, reaching into her bag and handing it to Izzy. Izzy read the entire thing and then squealed.
"Okay, we have first, second, fourth, and sixth together, but you have everything with Jace and he's a jackass, but he's good with helping people." She chirped and Clary had a feeling that Izzy was always happy.
"Jace! You have to show Clary to her third, fifth, and seventh class and if you don't and you do anything to hurt my girl, I will cut your balls!" Izzy screamed as she twisted in her seat.
"First of all, what the fuck are you talking about? Second, who's Clary? And Izzy, if you go near my motherfucking balls, I will destroy all of your shitty glittery dresses!" Jace yelled right back and the bus driver sighed in his annoyance, but said nothing, while soft, tired snickers ran around the bus.
"The fuck you will and Clary is my girly here." Izzy grinned, nudging Clary and Clary turned to see Jon and Jace sitting casually side by side.
"Ah, hey, red." Jace nodded his chin and Clary just stared at him, before turning around and facing the front, blinking rapidly. He was really pretty. Inhumanly so, with his deep golden eyes that seemed to swirl like molten lava. The strong, sharp jaw, straight nose, full lips, and light arched eyebrows. Then there was the hair. Oh god, the hair. Golden like the son, falling like silk to the nape of his neck reminding her of a lion's mane. Yes, he reminded her of a lion. A lion always on alert, always searching for prey.
Unlike most boys in high school with slightly unkempt long hair, as if their male genes didn't know how to properly take care of a long cut, his was shiny and obviously well taken care of. Washed, but not like he spent much more time other than running his fingers through it. Clary liked it and she found that weirder than all shit.
"I'll show her around." Jace's voice reached her ears and Izzy chirped happily landing with a thump next to Clary. Izzy had the body of a dancer, tall and slim, with grace and beauty etched into every crease and crevice. Clary smiled at her new friend and Izzy winked.
The silence was comfortable, but Clary still kept on alert, she still kept her guard up. She didn't know Izzy and she didn't trust people she didn't know, hell, she barely trusted the people she did know. And when everything went to hell, Clary would walk away unscathed . . . she hoped.