It comes to Clary's attention that Isabelle Lightwood has never been ice skating. It shouldn't be surprising, really, given that the Lightwoods don't know any movies and only make faint sounds of recognition when anyone brings up Harry Potter. It doesn't matter that, in the scheme of things, it's relatively unimportant. This is something, in a world of spiraling problems with no solution in sight, that can be fixed.
Fortunately, winter comes early this year. It's cold enough in mid-november to see your breath, and Clary decides this is the perfect time to go skating with Izzy.
It's not going to be a date, exactly. Because they're not dating, exactly. They hang out all the time, and Izzy poses for Clary to draw her, and there was that one time they fell asleep together after a really late mission. And, last week, they did kiss. A little bit. But it was late, and the kiss short, and it all felt more dreamlike than real. Neither of them brought it up the next morning. And then, they had to run an errand around the block a couple of days later, and Izzy grabbed her hand to drag her around a corner, and never let go.
Maybe Clary wants them to be dating, and maybe they could be, someday, but she's not quite ready to go out on a limb. The friendship isn't worth the risk. She wonders if Izzy would still talk to her, much less share clothes with and sleep in the same bed as her, if she knew. So, she frames it as a group outing. They all need a distraction, anyway.
They pick a date on the calendar that's open on shadowhunter, werewolf, and vampire schedules, and head not to Bryant Park, as Clary had originally envisioned, but to an indoor ice rink. It's better to sacrifice the sun than to sacrifice Simon.
Jace is the only one who complains, grumbling throughout the whole ride until they get there. "And we have to take his van?"
"What, afraid it'll somehow mess up your perfect hair?" Simon looks confused as to what's just come out of his own mouth. "Not that your hair is, um, perfect or anything. I just meant, you know, that you think it's perfect. Because you're conceited. I'm trying to say that you're very full of yourself." Simon drives the rest of the way in silence.
You would think a bunch of highly trained assassins would do alright with what are essentially just shoes with blades on them. Because they're already so good with blades? Yeah, no.
Helping Izzy around the rink is an excellent excuse to hold her hand. They've almost gone around once when Luke and Jocelyn pass them for the third time. Luke turns around in front of them, skating slowly backwards in his hockey skates like he used to do when Clary was little.
"You're doing really well, Isabelle," he says, and if it were anyone else it would sound ridiculously phony. But it isn't, so Clary smiles back at Luke. She turns to Izzy as Luke skates off, and Izzy beams at her. It's probably leftover from when Izzy was beaming at Luke, but it makes Clary's stomach flutter anyway.
Clary can see Jace across the rink, reluctantly holding Simon's arm as he totters around in his skates. Magnus is doing spins in the center of the rink in some glittery costume as Alec watches from the wall, smiling.
Clary smiles, too. It's good to see that everyone else is happy, that her plan ended up working out. And it's good to see that it won't matter if she's completely consumed with Izzy for the rest of the day.
After another few laps around the rink, Izzy stops at one of the little gates in the wall of the rink.
"I think I'm getting a blister," she says, reaching down to rub at her ankle and falling off balance in the process. She grabs at Clary, but she can't steady herself, and they both fall to the ice, their legs flying out in front of them comically one after another.
Clary laughs, helping Izzy up. "Yeah, now might be a good time to take a break."
There's a little concession stand by the rink. It's not very cold in the building, but is it really ice skating if you don't get bad hot chocolate? Clary thinks not. And, of course, she doesn't want to deprive Isabelle of this important tradition.
They hobble over to the concession stand in their skates, and Clary orders two hot chocolates.
"Together," Clary answers absently when the cashier asks if they'll be paying separately. "Yeah, together."
They sit down on a bench, and Clary takes off the lid of her drink to let it cool.
"Paying for my three dollar drink, holding my hand," Izzy says, smirking. "It's almost like we're on a date."
Clary feels her eyebrows raise, but other than that, she does a decent job of keeping a straight face. "It's almost like we are," she says, trying for that teasing tone Izzy is so good at. She reaches over to tuck a wisp of hair behind Izzy's ear.
"Very subtle, Fray," Izzy says, scooching closer to her on the bench. Clary is acutely aware of the buzz of the room around her for a moment—the sounds of skates slicing across the ice, the chatter of families and friends, the coffee machine whirring away at the concession stand—before the world zooms in, and she is acutely aware of Izzy instead. Her arm around Clary's shoulder, her vanilla-scented hair in Clary's face, the way a small smile plays at her lips as she turns toward her.
She doesn't need to wait for Isabelle to make the first real move. First of all, at this point, it's not looking likely that she'll get rejected. And secondly, perhaps more importantly, Izzy is her friend. Someone who would forgive her for an unrequited crush, just like Clary has forgiven Simon.
Clary leans in, jumping—but with a bungee cord tied to her waist. She's sure she'll be able to bounce back. She thinks, here on this bench, kissing the girl of her dreams, that maybe she always will.