New story! I was getting writer's block on the other one, so I decided to start this one because it had been in my head for a while.

"Right from the start, you were a thief, you stole my heart.." sang Clary, dancing around her bedroom. She pulled her hairbrush out of her hair to pose in front of the mirror as she sang on, attempting to banish her nerves. She had a voice lesson in two hours with her strict private lessons teacher, and an audition the next day. Hopefully, she wouldn't mess either of them up-the way she normally did with everything.

"Just give me a reason, just a little bit's enough, just one second we're not broken just bent, and we can learn to love again," she continued, vibratoing slightly and squeezing her eyes through the high notes. She smiled as her voice trailed to pianissimo, having landed the notes perfectly. She opened her mouth to begin the next verses of the song (the guy's part, which she always hated to sing)...when she heard the melody and lyrics through her window, sung by an unfamiliar voice. Surprised, she peeked downward, not expecting to find anyone there. The neighbors next door had moved out a couple weeks ago, and she hadn't seen anyone move in since.

But there was a guy, probably around her age, lying down in the grass (grass that was technically her lawn and not his), continuing the song. His eyes were closed and he looked peaceful, almost like he was asleep if not for the movement of his mouth. Clary quickly pulled her head back inside her room and pretended she hadn't seen him, feeling flustered for some reason. But the strange boy kept singing, so when the chorus came, she joined in with his, harmonizing with his melody. Finally, the song ended and she poked her head out again, feeling braver now that she'd sung with him. Which, she realized, she'd never done before, and was a little confused with herself as to why she'd done it just then.

His eyes were open this time, and even from the high up view from her window, Clary was immediately arrested by his wide golden eyes. "Hey," she offered weakly, somehow feeling off-kilter.

"Hey," answered the boy back. "Come down here."

Clary was surprised at the suggestion, and her face must have shown it. The boy laughed. "I swear I'm not a stalker or anything," he said teasingly. "I'm new to the neighborhood."

Clary felt herself blush the same color as her hair, and knew he could probably see it too. "Well, okay," she said uncertainly, more to herself than to him. "I'm coming down."

She walked out of her room, bumping into her mother. "Where are you going, sweetie?" her mother asked absentmindedly.

"Oh, just outside," Clary said quickly, praying her mother wouldn't choose this particular time to act like a mom. Luckily, Jocelyn Fairchild nodded, smiling down at her daughter. "Alright, you have fun then."

"Uh-huh," muttered Clary, already sliding past. She paused at the stairwell and clambered onto the banister, quickly sliding down, grinning. She jumped off just as the doorbell rang.

Smoothing her skirt down, Clary turned the doorknob and had just opened her mouth to call for her mother (expecting a delivery man or something; certainly not someone for her) when she realized it was the boy from next door.

"Oh. Hi," she said shyly, a little less brave now that he was standing right in front of her, absorbing her appearance with those tawny golden eyes.

"Hi," he replied, blushing as well. "Um. I'm Jace. Jace Herondale. Uh, my family just moved into the house next to yours."

"I'm Clary. I..didn't realize anyone had moved in."

"Yeah, we didn't have movers, because um….well, we didn't come with a whole lot of stuff."

Clary realized they were just standing in the doorway, so she stepped out. The front porch had a small table and a couple chairs, and she led him over there. "Do you want some lemonade, or something?" she asked, trying to be a polite host like her mother would've wanted.

"Sure, lemonade would be great," Jace answered, smiling at her in a way that made her face feel like fire.

"I'll just..um, I'll just go get that then," she mumbled, smiling back involuntarily.

She hurried into the kitchen and grabbed two cups and the lemonade, hardly daring to believe what was happening. She, Clary Fairchild, shy shrinking violet (as her mother affectionately called her), was having a conversation with a guy she'd just met who was living next door. Even better, she hadn't yet said anything to completely embarrass herself.

She came back outside, where Jace was relaxing in one of the chairs and admiring the artwork hung in the porch. It was the best area for the paintings to dry, and she couldn't help but notice that he seemed intent on one of her best paintings.

"Thanks," he said, accepting a cup of lemonade, still focused on the artwork hanging around him. "Where did you get all these pieces from? They must've cost a million dollars."

"Oh, we didn't buy them," Clary said. "My mom and I, we painted them."

"What?" Jace turned towards Clary, disbelief written over his face. "These? You guys made them? They look professional."

"Thanks," Clary said, quietly proud of his clear admiration. "My mom did most of them, but I did a couple." She pointed out the one with the sailboat and sunrise and her favorite, a shimmering gold symbol set against a watercolor backdrop. She didn't know exactly what it meant, having looked it up numerous times and finding no associated language, but every time she looked at it, she felt power and confidence flowing into her. Something she needed, just about then.

"What does it mean?" Jace asked, pointing to the same painting she'd been thinking about.

"I don't really know," Clary confessed. "I just drew it. Like, my hand guided me or something."

"Wow." Jace sounded awed. "A singer and an amazing artist? Is there anything you can't do?"

Clary just could not seem to stop flushing. "I mean, I'm a pretty terrible cook," she offered, sitting down in the chair next to him. "Trust me, my mom has tried to teach me. It never ends well."

Jace raised a single eyebrow, something Clary was instantly jealous of. "Cooking's not so hard," he said. "I mean, I can make macaroni and cheese."

Clary laughed. Jace looked pleased. "Last time I tried that, I nearly burned the house down, because I lost track of time and didn't turn the stove off."

"Huh," Jace said thoughtfully. "I wouldn't have taken you for the absent-minded type."

Clary shrugged. "Sometimes I get caught up in other things, maybe a little too easily," she admitted. "I think that time, I was too busy singing to my cat."

This time, Jace laughed, a warm sound that pleased Clary. "You have a cat? Lucky," Jace said enviously. "I've always wanted a pet, but my...parents always said no."

Clary raised her eyebrows at the pause, but from the look on Jace's face, he didn't want to talk about it. So instead she merely inquired, "So, are you a cat or dog person?"

"Dog, definitely," Jace said, eyes lighting up. "I've always loved them. You wouldn't happen to have one, would you?"

"No," Clary said. "But I do have a very ornery cat. I named him Sammy."

"Why Sammy?" asked Jace curiously.

"Oh, because he likes salmon. He's also a little orangey, like salmon. So my eight-year old brain thought it would be a good idea to call a cat Salmon. Luckily, my mom talked me out of it and we agreed on Sammy."

"Sammy the Salmon Lover," mused Jace. "You're a funny girl, Clary. Is that name short for anything?"

"Yeah, actually," Clary said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear nervously. She was a funny girl? What was that supposed to mean? "My full name is Clarissa, named after my great-grandmother. But I prefer Clary."

"Why's that?" Clary wondered if Jace was interrogating her on purpose.

"I don't know," Clary said, shrugging. "Clarissa always seemed...too stuffy and serious. More grown-up, I guess." She paused. "What about you? Is Jace short for anything?"

"Nah," Jace said, shrugging. "I've kinda always wanted a nickname, but Jace is too short to make a nickname out of."

"How about just J," Clary suggested, grinning. "Or Ace?"

Jace shuddered. "Ace? No, Izzy would relentlessly tease me."

"Izzy?" asked Clary, trying to sound nonchalant. Of course a guy who looked like that would have a girlfriend.

"My sister," Jace explained, smiling at her. "She's a little younger than me, but she's pretty fierce and scary. And pretty quick to make fun of me in any way possible."

Clary laughed. "Sounds like fun."

"Oh, you have no idea," Jace assured her. "This whole trip up, we spent arguing basically every five minutes. It drove Alec crazy."

"Brother?" Clary guessed.

Jace nodded. "Yeah, and he's a couple years older than me." He rolled his eyes. "Like he rubs in with his 'mature' behavior", putting air quotes around mature.

"So you have two siblings?" asked Clary, feeling a little like the interrogator now.

"Yup." Jace nodded. And even though he complained about them, Clary noticed how his eyes smiled when he mentioned them. "What about you? Any siblings?
"No," Clary answered. "I wish, but no. It's just my mom and me."

Clary could tell Jace wanted to ask about her father, but refrained, something Clary was grateful for. How could she explain what her mother always told her-that her father was actually a criminal who'd stolen from a big corporation? She didn't want to change in Jace's view, the way she knew she would if he found out. Besides, they'd just met. Jace, sensing the same thing, changed the topic. "So, how'd you learn to sing like that?" he asked her, smiling faintly. "You sounded...well, really good."

"Thanks," Clary said, embarrassed but proud. "I've always loved to sing, and I started taking voice lessons last year. I'm auditioning for a musical tomorrow."

"Cool," Jace said. "A school musical?"

"Yeah," Clary said, nodding. "Cinderella, by Rodgers and Hammerstein."

"Auditioning for Cinderella?" Jace said, a knowing glint in his eyes.

"Dear God, no," Clary said, shaking her head. Jace looked surprised. "No, I'm

auditioning for the fairy godmother."

"Why not Cinderella?"

"I'm just not confident enough to be onstage the whole time. And Cinderella always seemed so boring to me. Weeping about being pushed around by her stepmother, until she gets dressed up and saved from poverty by the prince. I don't know, I feel like I'd be more likely to run away from home before that."

"Huh," Jace said. "I never thought about that. I remember thinking she was pretty, though. Like you." He peeked at her from under lowered lashes, a move that had probably ensnared hundreds of girls before.

Clary was burning up, even when she told herself not to fall for it. "Um. Thanks. Well, I don't really look like Cinderella," she said, gesturing to her hair. "I mean, unruly red hair and green eyes don't match her whole blond-hair-blue-eyes thing."

Jace shrugged. "Well, we're going into school tomorrow. Are the auditions open for other people to see?"

"Uh, yeah. But you don't want to see me audition."

"Why not?"

"It's not going to be good. I was going to spend the rest of today trying to get over my stage fright, and hopefully be just ready enough tomorrow to puke before I get on the stage instead of on the stage." Clary winced, remembering her last audition. "Yeah, it usually doesn't go so well."

"I'll be your lucky charm, then," Jace suggested. "You wouldn't throw up in front of me, now would you?"

Clary threw him a side glance. "You'd be surprised."

"Jace!" called out a voice from the other house. "Where are you?"

"That's me," Jace said, hopping up. "I've avoided unpacking this long, but I guess I'm not lucky enough. It was nice to meet you, Clary," he added, grinning at her.

"Nice to meet you, too," Clary said, right before another, deeper voice bellowed, "Jace! Come on, you gotta help!"

"Thanks for the lemonade, too," Jace said, looking back over his shoulder before he headed out. And was it just her imagination, or did his eyes linger on hers for just slightly longer than necessary? Clary shook her head. The heat must've been getting to her.

Once Jace had left, Clary ran upstairs, flopping onto her bed. She had a cute neighbor, she'd actually had a fun conversation with said neighbor, and she hadn't said anything too cringey. Things were looking up.