It's unseasonably warm for May. Yes, climate change is causing the sixth mass extinction, but Izzy is wearing a tiny crop top with her jeans, so Clary isn't exactly complaining. And it's nice to be able to sit outside while they try to cram an entire unit of Biology into two weeks.

AP Biology has certainly been a bumpy road. Because, while Clary has loved sitting next to Izzy for an entire year, it's also kind of infuriating. Clary has to fight tooth and nail for her 85 average, and Izzy can get ten points higher without breaking a sweat. It's not like Izzy doesn't do the work, but it just doesn't seem to affect her the way it does Clary.

Clary only took this course to learn more anatomy so she could draw better (and, to be perfectly honest, to have a class with Izzy), but it's clear that Izzy is in it because she really cares. The way she lights up when they're reviewing for a test, positively in awe of how a nerve cell membrane is depolarized, transferring an action potential... Clary has no doubt that she'll be a great doctor, or biologist, or forensic pathologist, whatever that is. So, it's great being in Bio with Izzy, but it's also exhausting.

"Okay, one more time, what's the difference between the gene flow and genetic drift?" Izzy asks, looking expectantly at Clary like she's a toddler who's just been asked what number comes after three. Which is fair, actually.

"Ugh, can we take a break?" Clary says, lying back on the grass and closing her eyes. She still doesn't understand genetic drift, even though Izzy's explained it to her about four times. A brain can only take in so much information at once.

Clary hears a textbook fall closed, and she opens her eyes in time to see Isabelle lie down next to her, her dark hair fanning out on the grass and catching the sunlight perfectly. It's a colossal effort not to reach out and touch it, but Clary powers through.

"Hey, can I see your prom dress again?" Izzy asks, turning onto her side to face Clary.

"Yeah, sure." Clary fishes her phone out of her bag and pulls up a picture. Her dress is white, with eyelet lace on the skirt. Of course Izzy already knows what it looks like—she was the one there in the store to assure Clary the lace looked adorably innocent instead of childlike—but Izzy gushes when Clary hands her the phone anyway.

"It's good that your dress goes well with mine."

"Yeah," Clary answers absently, taking back the phone and watching a cloud that looks like a ghost float across the sky.

"It'll be much easier to find a corsage that matches both of us."

Clary loses track of the ghost cloud. Because, what did Isabelle just say? There's got to be a rational explanation for this. People wear matching corsages to prom if they're going together, but also if they're... Nope, just if they're going together. Except, Clary can say for sure that they're not going together. If the girl she's had a crush on for an entire year had asked her to prom, she would fucking remember it.

Clary still hasn't reached a conclusion as to what the hell Isabelle could possibly have meant by this when Izzy grabs her hand, and her capacity for thought decreases by at least half.

She tries to compose her features into pleasantly surprised instead of utterly in shock and looks up at Isabelle, who is grinning at her with something that looks suspiciously like, well, like, in her eyes. Normally, Clary would think she was just reading into things.

She looks down at their hands, and back up at Isabelle. Finally, she says, "I'm sorry, what?"

"Well, your dress is white, and mine is black, so it won't be hard to find flowers that go well with both of them," Izzy says, far too matter-of-factly. "I thought it would be nice to have corsages, since we're going together, but I get if you don't want to draw attention or anything."

Clary stares into Isabelle's big brown eyes and tries to take this in, the edges of a smile tugging at her lips. "No, corsages are totally fine, but..." She holds up their intertwined hands. "We're going together?"

Izzy squeezes her hand and smirks. "I know, it's easy to forget that you're going to prom with someone as great as me."

Clary's trying to be at least a little annoyed, but it's not working. She can feel a goofy grin spreading across her face. "Were you planning on asking me?" Clary says. It comes out vaguely lovestruck instead of sarcastic, but that's okay.

Izzy's face falls slightly. "Did I not...?"

Clary nods.

Watching Izzy lose her cool is such an experience. Her hands fly all over the place as she talks. "It's been so busy lately, studying for Bio, and you've been working on your portfolio for AP Art, and Mr. Bowden assigned..."

She shakes her head suddenly and sits up, pulling Clary with her. There's a patch of dandelions growing off to their right, and Izzy picks one and holds it out to Clary. "Will you go to prom with me?" she asks solemnly.

"Would having a smaller gene pool put a population at a greater risk for genetic drift?"

"Aaah! You got it!" Izzy hugs Clary excitedly. "And, I know the evolution checks out, but that's a yes, right?"

"That's a yes."