Chapter 1. Treat Them Mean, Keep Them Keen.

"Alright ladies! Couple up and do a last round of kick-hits." The voice of the very large female coach seemed to echo over the big football field. The school's female team was out training and had been for the last two hours. Jace was sitting on the bleachers, looking down at the herd of sweaty teenage girls who were at the moment forming into two lines, facing each other. Coach blowed the whistle and Jace raised his eyebrows. This was something he'd never seen before. He tilted his head as he watched how the girl attacked each other, two and two. Basically forming some sort of wrestling line. All that was missing was more or less the oil and these girls would be displaying something which exists in most teenage guy's web browser history.

There wasn't much to complain about with that kind of view. The exercise was one that Jace, himself had never done before but which made him very much want to join one of the grinding pairs. Jace's team always had practice right after the girls so they were several guys hanging out by the side of the field, ogling the moving girls. Jace would've joined them if it wasn't for the fact that they were all staring at the same girl: Isabelle Lightwood. The captain of the football team, prom queen of two years in a row and Jace's adoptive sister. Jace was sitting far up on the bleachers by himself, changing into his trainers and had to fight the urge to not throw one of his shoes in the head of his teammates for staring at his sister as if she was a piece of meat. He knew Isabelle could take care of herself, she never failed to remind him of that whenever he'd try to stand up for her; but it still wasn't very pleasing seeing guys stare at her and basically being able to see them undress her with their eyes.

Jace shook his head and turned his focus back to his trainers which he had abandoned in the middle of the process of tying, thanks to the unwelcomed thoughts about his sister's admirers. He made it through getting both his shoelaces tied before he heard the whistle blow from the field again. He proceeded to get ready for his own training session by placing his sneakers in his bag and bringing out his water bottle. After a couple of moments he heard someone walking up the steps of the bleacher towards him and he didn't have to look up to be able to tell who was the owner of the footsteps coming his way.

"And here I thought your team were playing football, not wrestling." He said with a lazy yet teasing tone.

"It's to make us more tolerant to hits." Isabelle answered. Jace looked up and watched how his sister, glazed with sweat sat down next to him and drank from her bottle. "We're meeting Idris girl team next saturday and they like to play dirty."

"You're supposed to take advantage of that. Overreact and get penalty kicks."

"Lay down and cry because some she-man rams you?" She scoffed. "Please. I'm not a boy." Jace chuckled slightly and Isabelle grinned. "Besides, it would ruin my make up."

"You're such a girl." Jace said shook his head.

"I take that as a compliment." Isabelle replied with a great smile on her lips before bending down to untie her shoes. Jace wrinkled his nose. Isabelle might have been the prom queen and what people would describe as a perfect beauty. But when that girl removed her shoes after two regular hours on the football field, the noses of any innocent bystander suffered.

"Look, all I'm saying is that guys are pigs. You don't have to give them more reasons to see you as piece of meat."

"I know guys are pigs, Jace. I get a first seat example from you all the time." Isabelle said with an annoyingly clear voice. As if she was giving more of a fact than an opinion.

Jace frowned but kept his eyes on the field before him where some of his teammates were all ready in their gear and were messing around with the football between each other. "I'm not like that. I'm not that guy." He said defensively which made Isabelle scoff.

"Please. You're the worst kind of that guy there is. I'm pretty sure you hold seminars where you lecture innocent teenage boys about how to behave and turn them into jackasses like you."

"Shut up."

"No, I'm serious. The only reason you think you're better than those guys," Isabelle gestured dramatically towards the guys who had been ogling her earlier and who were now on the field. "is because you're actually getting some. And that has nothing else to do other than your luck with biology. Seriously. If it hadn't been for your looks. You'd be just like those guys down there. Calling themselves good guys whilst undressing a girl with their eyes and dry-humping anything that moves. Just because people think you're hot gives you some sort of get-out of jail card. Fuck. You even did get out of jail once just by fluttering your goddamned eyelashes!" Isabelle said, her factual tone had changed to a far more frustrating one. Her neverending line of princes who turned out to be toads had made her slightly tense about the subjects. Though Jace couldn't really argue on her point. He wasn't a very good guy. He never had been. Ever since he was a kid he had used his charms to get out of trouble or get what he wanted. His seven year old self hadn't had to do much else than look up at the adults with his big, golden eyes, hidden behind a messy blonde fringe, and they would drop whatever anger they had against him and let it be; convincing themselves that he didn't mean anything bad. When he grew up he had exchanged the puppy-dog eyes to mischievous smirk and a smooth tone of voice. Which, without doubt, worked even better than the cuteness factor. Not only would it get him out of trouble but it would in most cases also get him into bed. If the person he had made angry was a candidate of course. The cops incident had been different though and no matter how much Isabelle might want to think he charmed his way out of that situation, he had not. It's not to say that he didn't try. Though unfortunately the 50-something-old woman who arrested him had not liked his suggestive comments about the handcuffs she had put him in. The night had resulted in several bruises and had forced Alec, Isabelle and Jace's older brother, to bail him out before the cops could call their parents.

"I am better than those guys. In more ways than one. I know how to treat a girl right." Jace said, not looking at his sister who was slightly on edge from her mild outburst. "I just choose not to, to keep them on their toes. You know, Treat Them Mean, Keep Them Keen."

Isabelle let out a low, ironic chuckle. "You should get that tattooed on your back." Jace frowned at the image but decided not to comment on how he would totally be able to pull off a tramp stamp. "But I think you're fooling yourself." Isabelle added and Jace's frown grew even deeper.

"What the hell are you on about? I'm irresistable."

"Maybe so," she wrinkled her nose to having to admit that. "But only to some. You have one type, Jace. You only go for girls who wants you. You go for girls who know what they're in for but are hoping for a little bit more. You go for girls who think they can be the one exception who will make you stay with them, but deep down know it's never gonna happen. If you'd try to approach someone who's not just in it for sex and who wouldn't die to be your one special girl, you wouldn't stand a chance." Jace turned his head from the field to his sister who was now sitting criss-cross with her legs on the bench, fully turned towards him.

"You're saying that all smart girls are asexual?" Jace asked with a lift of his eyebrows.

Isabelle sighed. "No. Not everything is about sex, Jace. This is exactly what I mean. You approach girls with one thing in your mind. To get them on their backs. If you would have to goal to actually make a good girl fall for you, you'd have way more of a challenge. I don't even think you'd be able to do it."

"Of course I'd be able to do it. It would be easy."
"I don't think it would." Isabelle said absentmindedly wither her gaze stuck elsewhere than on her brother, as if her thoughts had traveled to a greater thought which made her drift away from the sibling's current discussion. Jace was about to say something back when she suddenly spoke again. "Actually, I bet you it wouldn't."

"What?" Jace said tiredly. Isabelle's eyes turned sharply towards his again, this time with a bit of a glister in her eye.

"I bet you you can't get a sensible girl to stay in a relationship with you for more than one month."

"Are you making a bet with me?" Jace asked. This wasnät the first time Isabelle had made a bet with him and it always ended up with Jace doing something stupid and proving her wrong.

"Yes I am. I bet you: you can't get a good girl to be in a relationship with you for one month straight because of her own will and true feelings towards you."

"I bet you you're wrong." Jace answered, a smirk had stretched on his lips and a slight excitement was in the air. Bets made him feel a sense of ruch. One that he loved. He stretched out his hand for Isabelle to grab and she did so, shaking it hard with and equally mischievous grin on her lips.

"I get to pick the girl though." She said as she let go of his hand.

Jace's smirk fell. "Why would you get to pick the girl?"

"To make sure she's the right kind of girl."

"Fuck it. You'll just pick someone ugly as shit or like a little fourteen year old or something. No way."

Isabelle sighed. "The idea is for her not to fall for you. She'd have to have some sort of self-esteem. It's not as if it matters if she's ugly or not. Just as long as she's a challenge. I actually have someone in mind. And I can just tell you, she is not the type of girl you would go for."

Jace narrowed his eyes. "What's her name?"

"Clary Fray."


AN:

Hi there. This is my first ever fanfiction and I have no idea how it's gonna be and I am nervous as hell. It's nothing special. Everything concerning the plot is things you've already heard. It's supposed to be like that just so you know. It is very cliche and I'm not even sorry! It's a complete human AU based in New York. Please Review and Rate!

All names and stuff belongs to Cassandra Clare. I will not be writing this for every chapter only here. So you see it? Cassandra Clare. The author. It's her characters. All of them. No matter how much I'd like to claim Jace is mine. He is not. Damn it. Again: Cassandra Clare.

(Sidenote: When I say football, I mean like soccer. I'm european and got too confused when I had to write soccer...)