Chapter Two
"Dropped this," Jace said, holding out my book. I narrowed my eyes and reached for the book, only to have it be pulled away.
"Jace, give it to me," I demanded. I wasn't in the mood to play one of his games. Instead of handing it back, he held it away from me and smirked.
"Only if you ask nicely," he replied. I sighed and glared at him. One thing about Jace is he thinks he's hilarious.
"Give me my book," I said. Jace shook his head and made a "tsking" noise. He held the book up over his head so I couldn't reach it.
"That doesn't sound very nice. Ask me again, nicely this time," he told me. He even had the nerve to cup his ear like he was trying to hear something far away. I groaned and looked up at him, plastering a big, fake smile on my face. If he wan't to play these games, then fine.
"Jace," I said in a sickly sweet voice. "Please give me back my book." He smiled triumphantly before lowering the book. I snatched it out of his hand and shoved it into my locker.
"See, all you had to do was ask me civilly," he told me. I glared sideways at him, hoping he'd finally walk away and leave me alone. When he didn't move, I slammed my locker closed and turned to face him.
"What do you want?" I snapped. He held his hands up in an innocent manner, as if he wasn't in any way at fault.
"Whoa, no need to be all grumpy. I just came to ask if you signed up for the play this spring," he said.
"And what if I did?" He smiled at me, and if I didn't know the kind of person he truly was, I might have believed it was genuine.
"Looks like we might be working together. Wouldn't that be marvelous if we both got the main parts?"
No, no it would not, I thought.
"Then we'd really get to work together. Maybe I could give you a few pointers on how to be a better actor. Of course, you'd never be able to be as good as I am," he said vainly. I wanted to slap the smirk off of his face. I probably would have if I hadn't heard the sound of a cat crying out after being hit by a car behind me.
"Jace!"
I turned to find Aline, the School Slut, coming up to us, or should I say, up to Jace. She was wearing a pink mini skirt and white tank top that barely covered her cleavage. She also had on a pair of pink high heel shoes. She also had a second layer of skin in the form of makeup on her face.
"I was looking everywhere for you!" she exclaimed, gripping Jace's arm, obviously feeling up his muscles. I saw Jace frown a little before putting a huge smile on his face. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her flush against his side. Then he looked at me and winked.
"See you at the meeting," he said, before he walked away with Aline giggling at his side. I felt like gagging at the site of them.
I huffed and stalked off to find Simon. I made my way to his locker, all the while trying to forget about Jace. Instead I thought of the play. An email would be sent out to everyone on the list about the meeting. Usually at the first meetings we talked about what the play was going to be about, and anyone who wanted to could back out if they didn't like the plot. It usually only lasted about ten minutes. The next day was when we held auditions, which could go on for hours.
I found Simon at his locker, struggling to fit all his books into it. A few of them started to tumble out. I swear these lockers could fit maybe three books, the rest we had to shove in. Then when we opened them back up, drop. All the shoved in books came plummeting out. I hurried over to him and helped him jam the books into the small space.
"Thanks," he said, breathing heavily, his glasses askew. I laughed and reached out to straighten them.
"Are you ready to go?" I asked. He nodded and hoisted his backpack over his shoulder. He ran his hand through his dark hair and sighed.
We walked in silence until I reached my car - a silver 2003 Toyota Camry that my mom bought me for my sixteenth birthday. To this day, it is the greatest present I have ever received. Simon climbed into the passenger seat when I unlocked the doors, placing his feet on my dashboard. I situated myself in the driver's side, glaring at Simon until he removed his feet from my dash. After I made him buckle his seat belt, we took off to my house.
"Guess who I ran into in front of my locker," I said, making conversation. Simon looked over at me and raised an eyebrow.
"Who?" he asked curiously. I sighed and made a left turn.
"Jace Wayland," I replied. I heard Simon give a small gag. One thing I really liked about my friendship with Simon was our shared hatred for Jace. Simon had a hard time getting along with anyone who wasn't me. Jace Wayland, with his cocky attitude and line of girls behind him, was one person in particular who Simon couldn't stand.
"What did he want?" he questioned.
"To know if I was trying out for the play. He was an ass, as usual," I told him. Simon started to play with the radio dials until he came across a station playing some 80s rock songs.
"Is he trying out?" I nodded and Simon gave me a pity look. "Do you think you'll get the main part? If you do, you'll have to work even more with him. He always gets the main guy's part, you know that." I nodded once more and sighed.
"I still want the main part. Who knows, maybe Jace won't like the plot and he'll quit. Then everything will be fine," I said, trying to reassure myself. I knew it was a long shot, once Jace signed up for a play, he didn't back out. He'd only been in a few, but each time his acting was, and I hate to admit it, sensational.
"Good luck with that, Fray," Simon muttered. I glared at him, causing him to shrink in his seat.
The rest of the drive was ridden in silence. I pulled into my driveway and parked my car. We both unbuckled our seat belts and walked up to my house.
"Mom, I'm home!" I called out when we stepped inside the front door. My mom appeared in the living room entry way.
"Hey, Clary. Simon," she greeted us. Her red hair was in a ponytail and she had a smile on her face. I looked just like my mother, same red hair and green eyes. However, even though we shared similar looks, the difference in our personalities was almost comical. My mother had this air about her, like she was doing five hundred things at once. It was a kind of frenzy that always kept her moving. When she was in the room, everyone was aware of her. I, on the other hand, was more laid back and quiet.
"Mrs. F.," Simon replied. She gave him a mock stern look.
"How many times do I have to tell you? Call me Jocelyn. You've been friends with Clary how many years? Eleven? Twelve? And besides, it's Mrs. G. now, remember?" my mother said. Even though my mom was now Mrs. Garroway, Simon still called her Mrs. F. She had married my step father, Luke, a few years ago, but the name Garroway just didn't stick with Simon.
"Where's Luke?" I asked her. I removed my shoes and kicked them off to the side.
"He's at work. He should be coming home soon," Jocelyn replied. Luke owned a bookstore downtown, a place that had become my second home. I could spend hours in there reading or browsing the books and never get bored.
"Well, Simon and I better start on our homework," I told her, dragging Simon up the stairs.
"Okay, I'll call you down when dinner's ready," she said. I nodded and smiled down at her.
We made our way to my bedroom, and Simon pushed the door open, revealing a mess of clothes, books, sketches, and paints scattered throughout the room.
"God, Clary. Don't you ever clean in here?" Simon asked, kicking a few books aside. He cleared the stack of clean clothes that I had yet to put away off of my desk chair and dragged it over to my bed.
"My room is just the way I like it, so shut up," I told him, sticking my tongue out at him. He rolled his eyes and mumbled the word "immature" under his breath.
I sat down on my unmade bed and started to dig through my backpack for my math book. Simon did the same, groaning as he looked at all of the work he had ahead of him.
I tried to show him how to do the problems, but he kept spacing off. I ended up slapping him upside the head to get his attention.
"Ow, what was that for?" he asked, rubbing his head. I glared at him.
"For not listening. I'm trying to help you," I told him. He sighed and slumped in his chair. Trying to get Simon to finish an assignment, especially an Algebra II assignment, was almost impossible.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry. It's just . . . math is so boring. I'm never going to understand it no matter if I pay attention or not," he explained.
"Fine then, do it yourself," I told him. He groaned and closed his book.
"Screw this. I'll just fail." I rolled my eyes and continued to do my assignment. I loved Simon more than anyone, but sometimes he gave up way to easily. I had always thought he needed to try harder in school, but it wasn't my place to force him to do that. He got by on his own, I just thought he had a lot more potential.
About two hours passed when I was finally finished with all my homework. Simon was asleep in the chair, snoring lightly, his glasses crooked again. I took out my laptop from under my bed and pressed the on button. I hurriedly checked my email, hoping there was an email from Mr. Hacker about the play. I smiled when I saw I had a new message.
Dear Students,
If you are reading this, congratulations, that means you signed up to be in the Spring Play! Should be an exciting one! Our first meeting will be held after school on Thursday. There we will discuss the theme of the play. If you have decided you don't want to audition, please notify me. Otherwise I will see you all there!
Mr. Hacker
"Clary, dinner's ready!" My mother called up to me. I closed my laptop and stood up, pushing Simon out of the chair as I walked past him. He awoke with a start and landed on his side.
He looked up at me in confusion. The fall had managed to straighten his glasses.
"What was that for?" he asked me incredulously.
"Time for dinner. Are you eating here?" I asked. He stood up and glared at me, but then smiled.
"When do I ever pass up free food?" I rolled my eyes and we headed down stairs for dinner.
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