Hey everyone! This is my new story (obviously), which is All Human. I've been thinking about this for a while, so I finally decided to just get on with it. Since my computer likes to be American, this is in American English. But I'm actually Aussie, so just point out if I've got any spelling errors or otherwise!
Hope you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think- always open to constructive criticism.
Clary Fray added a few more lines to her sketch, the pen scratching quietly across the page. Wishing for her art paper, she tried to ignore the ugly sound it made when she dragged it across the page. Although she couldn't decide which was worse: that, or her teacher's annoyingly nasal voice.
She wondered if she'd been severely ill while picking subjects for junior year. Gazing down at her rather impressive rendering of the girl sitting in front of her, she yawned.
Clary glanced around in boredom, noting the expressions varied from desperate to near catatonic. As she returned her eyes her sketch, she caught the unwavering gaze of Sebastian Verlac. She wrenched her eyes away hurriedly, but she couldn't focus. Why was he watching her?
It was probably nothing, she decided. Maybe he was looking at something past her- or just zoning out, like the rest of the group.
But as the bell rang and the classroom filled with the sounds of scraping chairs and chattering students, she couldn't quite shake the feeling that his gaze was still burning into her.
"Clary!" A familiar voice called. She grinned and turned, watching Isabelle Lightwood dart through the crowd surging to their next class. Pushing past a couple whispering against a locker door, she rolled her eyes at Clary. Isabelle couldn't stand school- filled with fake laughter and snarky comments, she said. Which was not to say she didn't enjoy the occasional party or fling.
"Finally." Sighing, she flipped her black hair over one shoulder, drawing a few glances. Effortlessly beautiful, Clary had no idea why Isabelle had picked her out on the first day of middle school, all those years ago. She'd been trying to work the new combination to her locker when the dark-eyed girl marched over. "What class do you have first?"
And so began their friendship.
"…it'll be Saturday night. Come over at eight, okay?"
"Ah, sure." Obviously another party they were going to. She guessed she'd just skulk around while Isabelle flitted around on the dance floor, glittering and radiant, as usual.
Clary glanced at the clock mounted on the wall, the hands counting down the seconds until they would be late. "We've got English."
"Pity." She sighed. "At least we've got this one together."
Knowing their English teacher was likely to be late, they ambled through the halls. Well, Clary ambled. Isabelle sauntered. They finally reached the classroom as the harsh ringing of the bell pervaded the corridors.
"I'd forgotten we also have this class with my idiot brother."
Clary hadn't.
Jace Herondale was... many things. Never seen without a girl was probably at the top of the list. Closely followed by sarcastic. He was currently lounging on a desk with a poisonous blonde at his side and a small crowd sitting around him. Clary shook in her head in disgust as one of girls inched a little closer.
Isabelle's hand pulled at her arm, forcefully pulling her away from the scene that her adopted brother had made. "Let's go, Clary."
They made their way to the usual seats, far away from Jace. She forced herself to unpack her books and pull out some pens rather than watching him and his little fanclub. "He has a good heart, you know." Isabelle said softly. "He just- the accident-"
"I get it." Clary cut her off. And she really did. She'd seen firsthand Jace's vulnerability. "I won't pretend I like the way he acts, but I understand his reasons."
"This is why we're friends." She smiled, her usual conviction coming through, if slightly dulled.
"How sweet. Maybe you can get two halves of a heart on a necklace next."
"Don't be stupid, Jace." Clary said sweetly, triumphantly registering the slightest tremor that rippled through his indecipherable expression. Still in the sugary voice, she continued. "We've already got those."
He turned back to Isabelle, slightly miffed. "I heard we're hosting a party."
Ah. That was what she'd missed in the corridor.
"Yeah, mom and dad are going out and taking Max. I figured they wouldn't care, as long as the cops don't get called." She rolled her eyes. "You know how they are. Parents."
Jace cleared his throat. "Yeah. Well. Better than none." His eyes flicked to Clary, and she flinched slightly at the naked pain in them.
Then they shuttered, leaving the inscrutable gold they usually were. She blinked. The transformation was so quick, out so out of sync with his usual façade, that she wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't felt the tangible hurt in them.
"Got to run, I'm meeting Simon at his locker. Come find us in the caf." Isabelle's fading call stayed with her as she packed up her bag with a small laugh. Those two were so obvious, yet so very blind. They both insisted that there was 'absolutely no way' the other could like them.
She glanced around, noting that there was only one other person in the classroom. And, of course, it was Jace.
Damn him. She couldn't help but feel bad for him. Keeping his parents' last name to honour their memory, adopted by the Lightwoods at ten. She could still hear the screams echoing in her memory as the car went skidding−
"Like what you see?"
But sometimes he made it hard to remember that he was the same boy. Still vulnerable under the cocky defenses.
Clary sighed. "Will it make a difference whether I reply or not?"
He smirked. "No. I already know you're just hiding your love for me under harsh words."
She sighed again. "Yes, Jace, that's exactly what I'm doing. How did you guess?" Her voiced oozed sarcasm, almost palpable in the silent classroom.
"Lucky, I suppose." He shrugged, crossing the room in a few long strides and reaching down to cup her chin and tilt it up.
Despite herself, she almost melted into his touch. His fingers were long and steady, five points of warmth against her skin.
It was all an act. Just another girl, just another casual motion. She jerked back, ripping her face out of his reach. "Nice try, Jace." She laughed and it sounded fake to her ears. "Maybe I'll see you later. But," she added venomously, "I kind of hope not."
Payback. He shouldn't have jerked her around like that. The almost-shocked look on his face should have been satisfying.
It wasn't.
Clary sighed, pulling books out of her locker. English, thump. History, thump. The sound bounced off the walls of the deserted corridor.
"Taking your anger out on your books? How disappointing. There are much more… productive ways to unleash it."
Groaning, she turned to face the black pits that were the eyes of Sebastian. "Go away, Sebastian. I don't need your crap right now." She slammed her locker door shut with a satisfying clang. "Or any time, for that matter."
"I guess I'd better back away. Looks like you're living up to your hair with your fire today." His mocking tone got under her skin and buried itself in her veins, lighting a spark of frustration.
She glanced at him briefly, letting her anger show clearly across her face. "And from the looks of your hair, you've already been burnt by it." He flicked his dark hair out of the way. He scowled, clearly annoyed. Maybe he'd actually had reason for coming over here, but she didn't particularly care at the moment. The encounter with Jace had left her off balance, emotions broiling inside of her in one angry lump.
"If you don't have anything useful to say, I'll be going." Clary hoisted her bag onto her shoulder, the tough strap cutting into her shoulder painfully.
"I think you'll want to hear this." The ominous words were enough to freeze her in her place, and coupled with the poisonous tone of Sebastian's voice… ghostly fingers traced their way up and down her spine. She tried to mask her dread with annoyance. "You'll have to enlighten me, then." She mocked.
He stepped closer to her. "You might remember the day, a few months ago, that we went white water rafting?" She scowled, not understanding the sudden switch. The whole class had gone, a field trip for the last day of school. It had been great, the cool spray hitting her face on a boiling day, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she stood. Until a huge wave had hit the boat. "One of my friends was so fortunate as to capture one specific memory in the form of a photo." He smiled, and Clary felt as though she was watching any possibility of just forgettingthat incident being sucked through his cold smile. "If you want, I can show you."
She was losing patience, quickly. Her mom was probably waiting outside, tapping the steering wheel impatiently and making mental notes for her latest lecture on being late. She could practically hear the bus brakes screeching after Jocelyn refused to pick her up anymore. "What do you want, Sebastian?"
"Just a favor, in return for withholding the photo."
The photo couldn't be that bad. The favor was going to be infinitely worse.
"Nope." She said, popping the p. She turned away and started to head down the empty corridor. A strong hand caught at her arm in a bruising grip. "Ouch." She glared at him before a bright screen caught her attention.
After the wave had hit the boat, she lost her balance, and fell straight onto Sebastian.
Or, more precisely, with her face in between his legs.
Clary grimaced at the thought. She'd scrambled backwards, cursing and blushing. She hadn't even noticed a phone out.
It looked atrocious. Considerably worse than any favor Sebastian could have come up with.
On her knees, her face… down there. She shuddered, trying to push down the rising fury. It made her look like a slut. Her eyes and throat burning, she looked at Sebastian. "What do you want?"
He cut to the chase. "Break Jace Herondale's heart. Go out with him, then break up with him, I don't care how you do it. But it has to end with him shattered." Leaning closer, he whispered into her ear. "And if it doesn't happen, that photo gets friendly with Facebook." She stared at him in shock as he drew away from her, strolling down the hall. His voice taunting as he called back, "I'll see you tomorrow, Clary. Let me know what you think."
What does Clary think? Opinions! Theories!