DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Mortal Instruments or its characters. I only own this particular plot line.

Enjoy.

The first half of the day went okay, or at least as okay as a first day could go.

Her first class was Maths, which she detested, then English where she sat and tried to wrap her head around dramatic irony and prophetic fallacy as the teacher, and older man with salt and pepper hair, babbled on about Macbeth for the good part of an hour. After that was Study Hall, which Clary spent doodling baby dinosaurs in her notebook and staring out the window. Then there was Chemistry and Phys Ed and Clary had to go to the nurse's office half way through the lesson after hitting herself in the face with a tennis racket, resulting in a bloody nose.

So, despite the bloody nose, it was an okay morning. Better than what she'd been expecting.

"You're going to be a bit swollen for a while, but at least the bleeding's stopped." The nurse pressed an ice pack to her nose. "You look woozy though, so why don't you lie down for half an hour?"

Clary was led from the main room in the sick bay, a small white office stocked with a gurney, a patient chair and a first aid cabinet, into a darker room. She lay on her back on one of three metal framed beds with over stuffed mattresses. She was still in the too big tee shirt and navy basketball shorts that was her PE kit, and she frowned down at her sketchers as she tried to get comfortable.

It really had been a better morning than she'd been expecting. Clary had never been one for good luck, especially when it came to getting herself into cringe worthy situations, and especially on first days. First day of kindergarten she managed to get her head stuck in the climbing frame; first day of soccer practice she accidentally kicked the coaches' daughter in the jaw; first day of middle school she threw up in front of her entire science class. And so it goes on.

So really, a bloody nose and a head ache was relatively lucky. You know, for bad luck.

The door creaked open again and Clary opened her eyes to see the nurse standing in the doorway.

"So lie down for a bit, but try not to fall asleep okay? I don't think you have a concussion, but you shouldn't risk it." The nurse held the door open as a boy walked through, ice pack pressed against his forehead. Clary tilted her head to the side as she watched him thank the nurse, and almost sighed before checking herself.

Clary wasn't usually one to drool over teenage boys she had never met; no, she usually saved the drool for forty something year old celebrities she'd never met (Robert Downey Junior, anyone?). So maybe she had just lost too much blood and her brain had been deprived of oxygen, because some part of her mind seemed to be telling her that yes, it was okay to stare at this particular boy.

In all fairness, he was something to look at. A tall, lean body clad in the same PE kit Clary sported and messy blonde hair hanging over lazy, gold eyes (gold eyes? Who on earth had gold eyes?). So really, could she be blamed for staring, just a little bit?

The boy turned from the closing door as the nurse left, and seeing her, smiled easily.

"Let me guess," He gestured to her kit, "Tennis racket?" She nodded.

"I hit myself in the nose." She told him, expecting him to laugh at her. He just smiled again. Shuffling between her bed and the one next to it. He pointed to his head as he sat down.

"My partner clocked me," He said, "An accident, of course, but it hurt like hell." He ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm Jace, by the way."

"Clary." He nodded, and hummed slightly under his breath.

"You're the new girl," He noted, "Aren't you?" She nodded, and couldn't prevent the rush of blood to her cheeks and ears.

"Yeah, that's me." She laughed, nervously.

"Your family moved into that old house on Bailey Street, didn't you? And your dad bought the old bookstore in town." Clary frowned.

"Yeah… How'd you know?" He shrugged.

"Small town. People talk." She opened her mouth to answer, but was cut off by the door opening.

"Clary?" The nurse called from the doorway, "It's probably time to get back to class now."

"Okay."

Before she left, she turned once more to Jace, who lounged with his feet propped on the foot of the bed.

"Well, see you." He grinned, lopsided.

"Later, Red." She raised her eyebrows at the nickname, but said nothing, and turned to leave.

XXX

Was it just her imagination, or did the wind seem to blow harder in this country town than it did in New York? Was the air cleaner? Was the sky a brighter blue?

Yes, to all of these things. And true, it was lovely. But Clary still swallowed as a swell of loneliness washed over her again as she rode her bike home from school, alone.

Maia had been more thank kind to her, and her boyfriend, Jordan, had been welcoming. But there wasn't the same closeness that there was with Simon. Back in Brooklyn, he'd been the only thing that made her days bearable, with his bad jokes and corny references. But now he was miles away, and she was alone in a strange old town and a strange new school.

Her mother was in the front garden when Clary pulled her bike over the curb and into the driveway, wrestling to peg a duvet cover on the washing line. It looked like a struggle, with the wind blowing sheets of linen up into her mother's face.

The gate creaked as Clary stepped into the garden and Jocelyn looked up at her daughter as the corner of a table cloth flew into her mouth.

"Hey, sweetie," She sputtered, "Can you go check on Charlotte for me? She's in her crib."

She dumped her backpack at the foot of the stairs, and jogged up to the second floor. She found Charlotte lying on her back in the crib, reaching up to grab at the spinning wooden mobile with her chubby little hands. Clary envied her. She was so content, so happy with little wooden cut outs of dancing rabbits, suspended by string and spinning over her head. The baby looked up at Clary, mouth open in a toothy grin. She scowled back.

"I hate you." She told her sister, and left the nursery, hating herself.

XXX

The week passed by without event. For the next four days, Clary woke up at the same time every morning, ate her breakfast, rode to school, endured, rode home, avoided both her parents and her homework, and went to bed early. She really was making an effort with Jordan and Maia, but they were very in love and very close, so it was hard not to feel like a third wheel. Clary didn't blame them; it was much how she imagined she and Simon had been, minus the whole being in love part. So she sat, mostly silent, at lunch, absent mindedly tracing the New York City skyline on napkins or empty envelopes or whatever was most convenient.

She didn't see the blonde boy from sick bay again.

It was late on the Saturday morning when Luke came into her room.

"Clary?" His voice was soft. She peeked out from behind her mountain of blankets, which was probably a bit of over kill considering it was May and the weather was warming up considerably, and "hmphed". Luke seemed to take the noise as permission to enter, and came to sit at the end of the bed.

"Look," He started, laying a hand gently on her blanket covered shin, "I know this has been a rough couple of months for you, what with the move, and starting at a new school and everything, but you gotta realize that me and your mom are just trying to do what's best for everyone." Clary rolled her eyes. She'd heard this speech before. Luke sighed, seeing the gesture.

"I know, I know, I've said it before. I know that it doesn't really make a difference." He stopped, running a hand through his hair.

"Your mom and I are taking Charlotte into town for a checkup with the local GP. Why don't you come with us?" He saw her hesitate. "C'mon, Clare, we've been living here for close to a month, and you haven't even visited the town center yet. You can't sit in your room and watch Netflix forever." She sniffed.

"Is that a challenge?" He rolled his eyes.

"Get up and get dressed. We leave in an hour."

Town wasn't anything special. Clary and her family, including baby Charlotte, drove up the main rode into the town center in Luke's brand new BMW, cruising by the numerous little white shops that ran along either side, baskets of pansies dangling from overhanging verandahs. Back in Brooklyn they had made do with a musty old pickup truck, but that had gone along with the apartment, and had been replaced with a glossy finish and leather interior.

They parked in a lot amongst several other cars just as new as theirs, and parted. Jocelyn and Charlotte headed straight for the Adam's Family Medical Centre, a large brick building that hosted the town's only dentist, pediatrician, psychiatrist, chiropractor, optometrist, and so on, while Luke headed off to see how the girl he'd hired to mind the bookstore on weekends was handling things.

So that left Clary. With not many other options, she followed the path from the car park, which lead her through a narrow alleyway between two stores and onto what had to be the town square. A large, stone paved square spread out ahead of her, lined with stores and cafés on three sides of the square, tables and chairs littering the space outside them. On the remaining side of the square was a large white building with what looked like a clock tower protruding from the roof. In the center was a grey fountain, a statue of an angel spewing water from its lips, a cherub at its feet, gazing skyward. Pigeons scavenged all about the grey stone.

Clary passed some time in a couple of the stores, flicking absent mindedly through racks of silk and cashmere, not bothering to even glance at the prices. Adam's was one of those tourist towns, riddled with B&B's, wineries, modern restaurants. It was a place where you would never be surprised to find newlyweds or honeymooners or retired couples with plenty of expendable income. And this particular part of town was designed for the pleasure of people such as these, with its quaint little stores, neat garden beds and trendy cafés that charged seven dollars for a cup of coffee. No, Clary knew that if she ever needed new clothes or a beverage for under five dollars she would have to go elsewhere, like perhaps the shopping complex down the road from her school, the one she saw the majority of her new classmates flock to everyday after school.

Clary soon grew bored of handmade throw pillows and found herself drifting away from the town square and down a quieter street. She followed the road, eyes glued to the tips of her converse as she walked and forgot about her parents. Winter was pretty much gone, and the air was alive with warmth and spring. Birds sang from their haphazard nests in the trees and squirrels darted back and forth between bushes and gardens. Yes, the sky was blue and summer was coming fast.

Clary would never understand her parent's decision to move the whole family upstate, just over a month before the entire country was due to go on summer vacation, but it was turning out to be a God send. Summer meant no school, and due to this, Clary had managed to convince Jocelyn to let her go back to Brooklyn and stay with Simon for a few weeks. The thought was the only thing that kept her from having a complete emotional breakdown at that point, so she would hold on to it for dear life. She would force herself to grin and bear it until July, when she would finally be able to go home. Or at least she would bear it; she couldn't make any promises about grinning.

So lost she had been in day dreams of the Hudson River and the Java Bean Café and Simon's mom's brownstone townhouse that she'd lost track of where her feat had taken her, and found herself in an unknown street. Like the main street, shops lined either side of the street, but while those she'd seen before were all clean lines and kitschy old styled hanging signs, these stores where a mess of flaking paint and faded window advertisements. Leaf litter blew around the sidewalk and across the dusty road, floating past barbershops and accountant's offices, computer stores and dated church op shops.

The street was almost deserted, save the old woman walking her dog outside a mechanics garage and the middle aged man sweeping the footpath outside the news agency. Clary floated down the street, taking it all in. It was very quiet compared to the bustling town center, the only sounds she could hear was the distant crackle of a radio somewhere, the broom on the pavement and her own footsteps. As she walked she memorised the store fronts so she wouldn't get lost on her way back, counting her steps as she travelled.

The street finished almost as quickly as it had started, and Clary found herself dawdling outside a corner store with bore water stained walls and pallets of garden soil stacked outside the wide front doors. She frowned, glancing at her wristwatch; there was still twenty minutes to spare, and she didn't want to spend it gazing at souvenirs and expensive cheeses.

The inside of the store was stuffy and smelt like manure, and it was larger than it looked from the outside. To her left were stacks of buckets, pots, shovels and gardening forks in every design imaginable, displayed on tall metal shelving that covered the entire left hand side of the store. The floor was a maze of soil stacked pallets and boxes of fertiliser and pesticide, and on her left was a dusty display of garden ornaments; garden gnomes, lawn flamingoes, miniature windmills. She examined the splay, smiling fondly at a chubby little clay rabbit, peering upwards with cartoonish eyes.

She thought of that front garden, with all those flowers. Both Luke and Jocelyn where city folk at heart, Clary knew. They had grown up and spent the majority of their adult years in a concrete metropolis where the nearest piece of nature was that stick thin, fence bordered tree that dwelled on the footpath outside their apartment. They had no idea, and little interest in that blooming garden on their property, and already she could see the tulips starting to droop, the lawn growing up, leaking onto the garden path. Then she thought of the lonely days of summer ahead of her, the days without Simon.

Clary picked the rabbit up, cradling it in her palms. Dust and grime seemed to stick to her skin and clothes as she walked through the store, towards the vacant front desk, as though the air was sweating dirt from invisible pores. She rang the bell once and heard a muffled shout from the hidden back room.

"One sec!" She set the rabbit down in front of her and waited. After a few moments, footsteps sounded from the back room and through the door burst a somewhat familiar boy with messy blonde hair.

"Oh," Jace grinned, "It's you. Clary, right." She coughed and smiled slightly.

"That's me. Hi." He was still grinning at her.

"Hey. I haven't seen you since Monday."

"You haven't been at school." She pointed out. She had been paying attention. He blinked.

"Yeah. My mom." She raised her eyebrows.

"Your mom?" He nodded, solemnly.

"When she found out I hit my head, she made me take the rest of the week off. She's a bit like that." He shrugged.

"Oh," Clary frowned, "Did you have a concussion after all?" He shook his head.

"No."

"Oh," She said again.

"Like I said, she's a bit like that." Clary, suppressed a smile and Jace looked down, noticing the rabbit.

"Oh," He grinned again, picking up the little gray character, "You've got Chester."

"Chester?" Jace nodded.

"All the different styled rabbits have names," He turned over the ornament and indicated to the price label on the bottom.

"See?" He pointed to the description. "Chester." She nodded, and reached into her messenger bag while he punched in her order.

"That'll be twelve dollars fifty nine." She pulled out her bank card and paid.

"Hey, do you know anything about, like, gardening?" Jace smirked.

"I know a thing or two. Why do you ask?" She coughed, absent mindedly stroking the back of the rabbit in her hands.

"Well, we have this big front garden, really nice, and my parents," She hesitated.

"Aren't exactly in touch with their inner gardener?" He asked. She smiled sheepishly.

"They've never really needed to be. Brooklyn born and raised, you know?" He nodded.

"Yeah, I get it." She shrugged.

"It would just be a shame for it to die just because nobody made the effort, you know?" He nodded again.

"I can help you, if you like. Just come in some time if you have any questions. I'm here on Wednesdays and Thursdays after school, and Saturday mornings. Or if you like just ask me at lunch or whatever." Biting her lip, she carefully slotted Chester into her bag.

"Thanks, I will. See you at school." She turned to leave, hoisting her bag further up her shoulder.

"Wait," Jace called after her. She spun back to face him. He had moved to the front of the desk now, and Clary could see that he wore a dark green apron around his waist, and a pair of faded jeans.

"Is everything okay?" She asked him. He stuck his hands in his apron pockets and glanced down at the ground, rocking back on his heels.

"Yeah," He swallowed, "I mean, I was just wondering, I'm having a small sort of get together at my house tonight." He shrugged. "Nothing big, just some friends. You're welcome to come, if you like."

"Oh," Her cheeks burnt slightly, "I don't know… I don't really know anyone from school yet, I wouldn't know any of your friends, I don't think."

"All the better!" He exclaimed. "I mean, you gotta meet people somehow, right?" She bit her lip.

"Look," He said, and strode towards her. He pulled a sharpie from his apron, and plucked the lid off. "No pressure." Taking her hand in his, he began to scribble down letters and numbers on the back of her hand. She was too stunned to move.

"That's the address, and my phone number in case you get lost. If you want to come, come. If you don't want to come, don't come. I won't be offended or anything." Clary stared down at her hand, then back at Jace, who was watching her hopefully. He really did have pretty eyes.

"Thanks," She began backing out through the door, "I really will think about it. Thank you."

"Well, I hope you come." He returned the pen to his pocket, turning and strolling back to the front desk.

"I'll see you soon," She called to him, and he paused just outside the doorway to the back room, and nodded.

"See you soon." And then he was gone, and Clary stood alone in the leaf littered doorway, frowning at the back of her hand.

Okay so I've finally updated. I know, it took a while, but I had to finish Lost Angel first, otherwise it wouldn't have felt right going on with another fic. So, anyway, I finished Lost Angel (if you value your opinion of me and my writing abilities, don't read it). And yeah, I updated!

So, Jace may seem a little OOC, but I was trying to construct him in the way I feel he would have turned out if he'd had the whole normal family type thing. Like, Jace in TMI is the way he is because of everything that happened with Valentine and such, so reason dictates that Jace would be a bit different if he'd had a good home life.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think, if you have any suggestions for the story (I'll consider them). I love hearing from you guys so go crazy!

I'll update ASAP, but schools really busy these days, so I'll do what I can.

Until next time,

Beth.