A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!

CPOV
I wake up in a state of feverish excitement. Today I will fly to the country I'd always dreamed of visiting with the guy I'd always dreamed of. I hop to my large oak desk where my sketchpad and pencils lie scattered haphazardly. Amid the blank pages are pages filled with random drawings, my most precious detailing every fraction of French culture I could lay my hands on. It seemed like a magical place to my artistic eyes.

"CLARY," Jocelyn calls. "It's time to get up,"

I roll my eyes. As if I'd oversleep today. Abruptly there's a firm knock on my bedroom door.

"Luke," I exclaim in surprise once I had flung the door open. He hadn't once visited my bedroom since I'd become a teenager as he was as awkward around teenagers as I was myself.

"Clarissa. May I come in?" He smiles indulgently. A white box was clutched in his hands.

"Yeah sure sit down. It's even reasonably tidy in here now that my stuffs in those massive bags Mom bought." I indicate the eclectically patterned suitcases positioned by the window. "What's up?"

He thrusts the box out as if it burns him. I take it hesitantly. We were the most awkward people to exist. "For you."

I lift the lid to reveal a rose-gold Michael Kors watch. I gasp. It's breathtakingly beautiful and must have cost him a fortune.

"Luke I-," I stammer shocked.

"Look at the back," he says gruffly.

I turn the watch over slowly to see the simple phrase To My Clary, Always with You.

Hot tears pool in my eyes. For a girl that never cries I feel close to it. I ignore my hatred for hugging and throw my arms around Luke's neck.

I think guiltily of my real father but surely he wouldn't begrudge me a father figure. This is Luke, the man who had loved me like his own from the moment he had met me. The man who always knew what to say to me. The man who had never looked to replace my father, only to ease my grief.

"Thank you," I whisper and kiss his unshaven cheek.

He pats my back roughly and I released him.

"Maybe it's best you put this in your luggage for now. Spare me the wrath of your mother for the summer won't you?"

I smile. I'd do anything he wanted me to.

I move to my luggage, unzipping the full case and nestling the watch amongst my clothes. Luke clears his throat.

"There's one more thing I want you to do for me."

I glance at him, waiting.

"Look after yourself."

I leap out of Luke's truck the moment it slows into the school lot. Grabbing my suitcase and green rucksack I ache to run and find Simon but I knew I was obligated to hug my parents once more.

Jocelyn wraps an arm around my shoulder and kiss my cheek. That would be it; we weren't a family known for our emotional goodbyes. Jocelyn says she would miss me while Luke mouths the words always with you. They leave.

Once they are gone I almost wish they had stayed.

More than a few people stare as I navigate my bag through the halls but I'm too intent on finding Simon to bother with them. His phone is going straight to voicemail and I can't locate him in the crowd of students.

I decide to head to our first class together in the hopes of finding him there. Mr Carstairs, our music teacher congratulates me on surviving junior year as I enter the classroom. I smile blandly. My eyes rove the room but Simon is nowhere to be found. I perch on a stool tapping my foot nervously.

Class begin and there's still no sign of Simon.

My heart thuds throughout the day and by the end of it my foot could have tapped its way to China. Had something happened?

I rush to the parking lot as soon as the bell tolls; ignoring the calls of congratulations and good summer wishes. January Jones was the only person I stop to wave at and even then it's hurried.

I'm not sure what I'll do if Simon's mother's car is not parked in her usual spot. I feel the Danish pastry I had consumed for breakfast rolling in my stomach. The spot is just opposite the parking lot so I have slightly further than the other students to walk.

I gamble through the traffic and stop short at the sight that greeted me.

Jace frickin' Morgenstern leaning casually against his Porsche and smoking.

I gape at him.

"Close your mouth babe your tongue will get all dry," He smirks. "And you need that tongue to salivate over me."

I continue to gape.

"No sarcastic comment today?"

Still nothing comes out of my mouth.

"Well at least the drive will be silent enough." He pushes himself off of his car and lopes to a nearby tree, stubbing out his cigarette. He then motions to his car. "Get in, Fray."

"Not a hope." Ah so I can speak.

"Ah so you can speak." Jace says smoothly.

"Where's Simon?" I demand angrily.

"You'll find out if you get in the car." He answers me without answering me.

"Where is Simon?" I growl, stamping my foot on the cement.

Jace laugh. "Did you just stamp your foot?"

He places a hand on my arm. I shrug it away angrily, folding my arms and staring him down.

He sighs. "My dear step-brother is at home with his band manager turned tour manager discussing last minute concert tactics before they set off for LA tomorrow."

"Excuse me?" I whisper hoarsely, forgetting to be sarcastic as is custom in our exchanges.

Jace shakes his head mock-sadly. "If you had just gotten into the car I could have brought you home and he could have explained it to you." He leans against the car once again.

"He's going on tour?" My voice shakes with unshed tears. "Now?"

"Afraid so," he replies, bored.

"But…but our trip." I stutter.

"Ah," Jace tapps his nose. "This is where it gets interesting."

He was making my head hurt.

"You're still going to Paris tonight." He stretches out his hand and tugs on one of my curls. I was too shocked by his statements to protest.

"You're not going with Simon. But you're still going. And not alone." He continues excruciatingly slowly.

I deign not to comment.

"You're going…" He pauses leaving a pregnant silence in his wake.

"With me."

That was the first time I punched Jace Morgenstern.

A/N: Do please review!