Clary

I quietly cracked open the door to my apartment in fear that I may wake my father or disturb my mother. While it seemed common curtsey it was really just a self-preservation tactic I had learned over the years. My home life was anything but expected. At school I was known as the bubbly petite red head that loved art, but at home I was just the timid helper. The small amount of time my father, Valentine, even spent home was spent sleeping. I could go days without so much as even seeing him, but I knew he had been home by the dent in the couch cushions. Jocelyn, my mother, was either hauled up in her bedroom, locked in the bathroom or stumbling around the kitchen. This left me with plenty of alone time, sometimes even too much.

Stepping through the threshold I could tell my father was at work and my mother was probably passed out in her room. Noting the large stack of dishes I would have to do and the bottle cluttered coffee table that would need to be cleared I rolled my eyes in disgust. I was sick of cleaning up after my mother and picking up my father's slack. I know he is out working multiple shifts to cover the bills but I can't help the resentment I feel towards him. How alone he leaves me and with so much to deal with. But that was a discussion for another time. Dropping my school bag in the corner and kicking off my shoes I moved towards the sink to start the dishes.

Glancing at the clock I notice it is 5:30 pm and I would have to start something for dinner, not that anyone ever ate it besides me. Chicken quesadillas seemed like the best bet for tonight. While I was pulling the ingredients from the fridge a large crash sounded from down the hallway and soon my mom made her appearance.

"Jesus Mom, when was the last time you showered? Have you seen your hair?" I sneered. Without so much of a glance in my direction she reached under the counter for a bottle and turned abruptly heading back to her room. I don't think I'll ever be able to understand her. Turning my attention back to the chicken in front of me I begin slicing when there is a knock at the door. I turn with the knife still in my hand towards the door. It's either my best friend, Simon, my dad too dead on his feet to find his keys or a stranger looking for money. Unlocking the door and lightly opening it I am shocked to see a man who I can only describe as golden standing in front of me panting.

"Look, I know this may sound crazy but you need to let me in right now" he huffs. I don't know why but I find myself stepping aside for him as he slips in the door.

"Why exactly do you need to be inside my apartment?" I ask, still clutching the knife. I've never been much of one for fighting back but I do feel more comfortable having something to defend myself. He turns his gaze on me and I'm lost in his molten eyes for just long enough to miss his response. "I'm sorry, can you repeat that?"

"I said, I'm new to the neighborhood and I may have run into the wrong crowd while I was wandering around. My mother would not have appreciated me having a black eye my first day here so I ran and your door seemed the most welcoming." He said with amusement glinting in his eyes.

"I'm glad you avoided that black eye. I'll take a guess and say you ran into Jonathan's crew. They like to ruin the neighborhood. I'm Clary by the way." I said.

"Nice to meet you, Clary. I'm Jace. Let me tell you I feel pretty lucky to have picked your door. See you around, Red." He dropped a wink and with that he strode back out the front door and down the street. I turned back towards the sink hoping he missed the shuddered than ran threw me when he said "Red".