I was more than a little excited to continue for you guys XD. Read and review pretty please!
Belongs to Cassandra Clare, not me.
"Clary!" Luke called. Clary sighed. She contemplated ignoring him but decided against it considering Luke would just find another way to introduce him to her. She stopped and took a deep breath before she turned to greet the newest addition to Morningstar Farms.
As she turned, her eyes focused on Luke first. She could tell he was trying his best to not look worried, but she could still see it in his eyes. He continued walking towards her. To his right, a boy that looked to be around seventeen walked a few feet behind him.
The boy was about six feet tall, give or take an inch or two, and he wore a dark washed pair of jeans with a gray cotton shirt. At the collar, Clary noticed that there was a small dark swirl of ink close to his neck that was cut off by the fabric. Wondering what the tattoo was, she looked at his face and saw that his eyes were almost the exact same shade of gold as his hair.
To say that this boy was not what she had expected would be an understatement. Clary thought she was going to see some scraggly haired kid with big overly buff arms and an 'I hate the world' look to him. This boy had none of that. He actually looked sort of normal. But what shocked her the most was that he was pretty. Not in the girly sense, but in the 'beautiful person to look at' sense. The hard planes of his jaw led to well defined cheekbones and those strange but intriguing golden eyes. Clary wished she wasn't dressed in such dirty clothes.
When they stopped in front of her Clary ripped her eyes from the new kid, noticing that she was blatantly staring at him. She hoped he hadn't seen.
"Jon, this is Clarissa Fray, my niece. Clary, this is Jonathan Morgenstern. He's our new guest," Luke said. Jonathan had shuddered a bit when Luke said his name.
"Hey." He gave her a cocky smile as he stepped forward and held his hand out to her. She looked from his face down to where his large hand was extended. He had another tattoo inked in elegant script on the underside of his forearm, but she couldn't quite make out the words from the angle she was at.
She wasn't going to be fooled by this boy. He was like a poisonous flower, beautiful, but dangerous. She looked back up at him and raised an eyebrow without extending her own hand. After a few seconds, he dropped his arm and the smile vanished from his face. His brows pulled together in confusion.
Luke cleared his throat in the silence. "Clary, why don't you show him around? I'm sure he would like to take a look at everything." He looked toward Jonathan for confirmation. Jonathan nodded slightly.
Clary gave Luke a pleading look with her eyes as he passed by her and walked towards the house. She suppressed a groan.
"I'm gonna get some lunch," he called over his shoulder as the screen door flapped shut.
She sighed as she turned her head in Jonathan's direction.
"Come on then," she said as she strode towards the barn quickly. He hurried to catch up with her.
"Don't act so enthusiastic, you might break something," he muttered.
She pretended not to hear him as they walked through the large doorway. Clary was glad that there were other people there. It took away from the awkward tension between them.
"OK, so this is the barn," she announced dully. He looked around at the many stalls.
"How many horses are here?" he asked. He stepped forward to one of the stalls.
"Twenty-one, but that changes all the time," she said, watching as he lifted his hand to the nose of the large chestnut that stuck his head over the rubber divider. "That's George."
He smoothed his hand over the horse's neck gently before he turned back to her. "Where am I staying? I take it that I'm not sleeping in the barn?" he said with frustrating cynicism.
Clary bit back a rude retort. He followed her as she walked back out of the barn, turned left, went past the main house, and walked over to the small cabin that was used as a guest house. The wood siding was painted green, but the paint had faded to a dull sage over time. There were a few flowers and bushes that lined the walkway up to the cabin. She hopped up the steps that led to a small porch with a chair in the corner, and opened the creaky wooden door.
She walked in and gestured at the sofa and chairs that surrounded a small fireplace. He walked in after her and reviewed the space, his eyes darting around the room and resting on the various items that were there; the little wooden cow figurines, a 'Home Sweet Home' sign that was placed on the mantle below a large mirror, and the decorative colored bottles that held nothing but air.
"The living room," she said. She walked a few steps to the right and into a small kitchen with a few cabinets, a small refridgerator, and a table with two chairs. "Kitchen." She marched to the back of the cabin where there were two doors, one on the left and the other on the right. He followed close behind her. She opened the right door, revealing the tiny bathroom. "Bathroom," she said shortly. She turned and opened the left door.
"And this is where you're gonna sleep, Jonathan," she tried her best to sound nice as she walked in and gestured to the bed. The bedroom was the largest room in the little house. He leaned against the small doorway.
"Call me Jace."
"Um, is that a nickname? That doesn't sound anything like Jon-"
He cut her off, his eyes hardening. "Yeah, I know it doesn't." He left it at that.
"OK…do you need help with your bags?" It was getting increasing difficult to be pleasant with him.
"No, I'll get them myself."
She took a deep breath. "OK then. See you later." She walked over to him and waited for him to move to let her through the doorway. When he didn't, she huffed and squeezed by him, her shoulder sliding against his arm.
She walked outside wondering why he was such an asshole. They had given him a home for Christ sakes! He certainly wasn't humble about it. If her uncle thought she was going to be all buddy-buddy with someone as ungrateful as him, he was sadly mistaken.
The hot sun beat down on her hair, making it shine a thousand different shades of red. She thought of taking a nice cold shower to get rid of the film of sweat that covered her skin as she wandered over to the house, grumbling under her breath. When she entered, her aunt was washing dishes. Amatis heard her walk in and turned in her direction, her wet hands still in the sink.
"So, did he get settled OK? Do you like him?" she asked cheerfully.
"No. He's a dick." She continued striding towards her room.
"Clarissa!" she said in a chastising tone, spinning around to look at her.
"What?" She turned.
"Don't talk like that." She paused. "Why would you say something like that anyway?" She turned back to the sink and continued her washing.
Clary plopped herself into a chair and sighed, smoothing back the bits of hair that had fallen from her ponytail. "Because he is as ungrateful as anyone could possibly be."
"Well, maybe he's just shy. This is a new place for him."
"Oh no, he's definitely not shy."
Amatis put the last dish on the rack, drying her hands with a towel. She pulled out a chair and sat across from her.
"Please, just try your best to make him feel welcome," she said, placing her hand on top of Clary's. She opened her mouth to say more but she thought better of it, remembering her display that morning. Amatis looked her straight in the eyes. "Please?"
"I'll try," she exhaled noisily.
"Good." Amatis patted her hand softly.
"I'm gonna go take a shower." She pushed the chair back, the wooden legs grating against the tile floors. She walked to her room leaving Amatis at the table.
When she reached the bathroom she pulled the hair tie from her ponytail. It got stuck about halfway down and she pulled viciously, her eyes watering as the tie came loose. She turned the shower on cold. Quickly, she peeled off her dirty clothing and stepped under the chilly spray. Instantly, the uncomfortable heat left her body and she felt refreshed. She reached for the bottle of conditioner and used quite a bit more than she usually would; her hair was extremely frizzy today.
After she had finished, she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in one of the large light blue towels from the rack. She used another towel as a turban on her head as she walked back into her room. Moving to the dresser, she pulled out an outfit that was practically the same as what she wore before, and pulled it on. She went back to the bathroom and dried her hair one last time before she parted it down the middle and braided both sides. She looked at herself in the mirror. Maybe that'll fix it, she thought. She had never worn her hair that way before and she thought she looked about ten years old.
It was almost one when she left her bedroom. The new jockey is coming to look at Caspian soon, she remembered. She ran out of the house and over to the barn, where she found Michael talking to who she suspected was John Newman.
"Here she is," Michael said as Clary approached.
"Hi, Mr. Newman," she greeted him. He was short, about the same height as Clary. For once she didn't have to look up to talk to someone.
"Hello, Clary. Michael's been tellin' me a lot about you. You got Caspian here to do a minute forty six this morning?" he asked, interested.
"Yeah, but it was all him," she smiled, scratching Caspian's neck. "I can't take the credit."
"Well, I'd love to see how this guy moves. D'you think you can show me?" Clary was caught off guard. She thought that John was going to do the riding.
"Uh, yeah, sure," she replied.
The four of them walked to the track, Michael and John ahead of her and Cas. She looked to her left and saw Jace opening Luke's truck and pulling out a modest black duffel bag. Clary wondered if all he had was in the small bag, and felt a little bad. She remembered the first day that she had come Morningstar.
She got out on the track, got a leg up from Michael, and headed over to the small starting gate that one of the workers had wheeled in. "Do just what you did this morning, Clary," he said quietly, and Clary nodded. Michael helped to lead Caspian into one of the two confined spaces and closed the metal doors behind them with a clang. He went to the edge of the gate and grasped the pulley that was used to open the metal doors in front. Clary lifted off the saddle and tightened her grip on the reins as Cas snorted. She nodded in Michael's direction, silently telling him to pull the cord.
The gate opened with a deafening bang and Caspian shot out. Again, his powerful legs rocketed them towards the first turn and before she even knew it they were sprinting up the last stretch. "Come on Cas!" Clary laughed with euphoria as his stride grew longer on the last few lengths.
She slowed him down to a canter and gave him a large pat on the neck. She looked in the direction of Luke's car again and saw Jace standing with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder lazily, watching her. She blushed, heat creeping onto her cheeks. Riding towards Michael and Mr. Newman, she stopped at the fence where they stood. Clary hoped they would think her red face was from the ride as she swung herself onto the ground.
"Wow, he's one heck of a horse!" John said. "Have you ever thought about getting a license?"
"Uh, not really," she laughed. "Not seriously, at least."
"You could have a future in racing, my dear; your form was as good as any trained jockey."
"Thank you." She blushed again, thinking about her form when riding. She turned to Michael and asked for their time.
"A minute forty-four point five," he said. Pride was evident on his face. "It looks like he does even better with a crowd."
"Over a second?" Clary breathed, astonished. Michael showed her the stopwatch in his hand with a smile.
"Oh my God!" she squealed, as she jumped up to hug Michael around the neck. She had a wide grin plastered to her face when she turned to look for Jace again, but he was gone. Her smile faded and she turned back to John and Michael. They were talking animatedly about the different competition Caspian was up against. Clary excused herself, telling them was going to walk Caspian back into the barn. She left them by the track.
She set off, thinking about Jace. She had no idea how to handle someone like him. She wasn't used to the brooding and sarcastic type. She thought about what her aunt said. Maybe I could invite him to dinner at the house? Would he even agree to that? She took off Caspian's bridle and switched it with a halter, tying him up to the cross ties. She quickly put away his equipment and brushed him. Leading him back into the stall, she saw Simon walk by.
"Simon!" she called. Simon was her best friend and the son of Matthew Lewis, one of their closest family friends. Simon was supposed to be on vacation with his family in Michigan, visiting his grandparents. Clary rushed to close the stall door behind her.
"Hey," he said, sunlight glinting off of his glasses. He looked taller than the last time she had seen him. Then again, the last time she saw him was in the beginning of the summer and now it was nearly the end of August.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, giving him a tight hug. "Jeesh, I haven't seen you in forever!" She stepped back.
"Yeah I know, I just got back this morning. My stupid manager at Universal Comics said he gave my job to someone else because he didn't know I was leaving for the summer, even though I told him I was going on vacation." He grumbled. "Two weeks in advance, I might add. Anyway, here I am, shoveling horse crap for money…again."
Clary laughed. She had missed not seeing him on a daily basis. Last summer, he had weaseled his way out of the family vacation and instead he had stayed in the guest house. She remembered long summer days and camping out in the woods with a bunch of comics.
They walked out of the barn talking about his vacation. Evidently, it wasn't all that eventful. The conversation drifted to the ranch and how they had to lay off some of the workers. "Hey, did you hear we have a criminal on the property?" she asked.
"What?" he said, snapping his head toward her.
"Yep, he's living in the guest house."
"So, what did he do? Kill someone?" Clary's face darkened as she shifted her eyes to the ground.
"Oh, I'm sorry Clary," he said quietly.
"No, no it's fine," she insisted. "He assaulted someone."
"Are you alright?"
She looked up and into his wide brown eyes. She knew he meant well, but she really didn't want to talk about something that was going to bring her down. Just fifteen minutes ago she was jumping up and down with happiness.
"Yeah," she said evasively. "But this new kid is a real jerk."
"Huh, let me guess. He's a scraggly haired buff guy that looks about twenty?"
She gave a half-hearted laugh. "Surprisingly, no. He looks completely normal." Normal as in beautiful, her mind corrected her. "My aunt asked me to make him feel welcome here. I was thinking about asking him if he wanted to have dinner with us. Do you want to come too?"
"Sure, I mean how often d'you get to have dinner with a convict?"
""""""""
After talking for a while longer and eating lunch together in the barn, Simon left to get back to work and Clary went to the guest house. She knocked hesitantly on the door and waited. No one answered, so she lifted her hand to knock again.
"He's not in there."
Clary whirled around, startled. She nearly fell into Jace when she turned. He was standing right behind her on the porch. He hadn't made any noise, which was quite a feat considering the entire porch creaked.
"Jesus! You scared me," she said as she stepped back from him, her back pressing into the siding. He shrugged.
"What are you, like a ninja or something?" she asked angrily.
"Somewhere along those lines."
She couldn't tell if he was being serious or not. She bit her lip nervously.
"Do you need something?" he asked, his eyes moving to the door and back to her.
"Um, no. I… I was going to ask you if you wanted to have dinner with us at the house." He stared at her. "I mean, it's OK if you don't want to. I don't know if I'd want to have dinner with a bunch of people that I don't know, in a place that I've never been before. I mean, who would, right?" She was rambling. She bit her tongue in an attempt to stop looking like such an idiot.
He laughed, and she was surprised to realize that she liked the sound.
"Do you get this nervous around every good looking guy you meet, or is it just me?" he asked, laughing some more. Clary scowled.
"Look, if you want to have dinner with us come to the house around six," she said, with petulance in her tone. She moved around him and started walking to the steps when his hand closed around her wrist lightly.
"Wait," he said, no longer laughing. She turned slowly, tensing a bit at his touch. She looked up at him as his tousled golden hair fell into his eyes. He left his hand on her wrist.
"I would like to have dinner with you, thank you for asking me," he said, looking into her eyes. She blushed at his intensity and looked down.
"Good. I'll see you at dinner then." Her eyes moved to where his hand still rested on her wrist. As if he just realized that it was still there, he pulled his hand back.
"I'll see you."
Her mind spun out, trying to understand what had just happened. She was confused at how he could be so callous to her one second and then staring so intensely at her the next. Clary wondered if everyone who left jail acted that way. It was like a flip of a switch could change his mood, and that scared her. She didn't want to be anywhere near him if one of his quick mood changes resulted in anger.
Clary went to the house and told her aunt that she invited Simon and Jace to dinner. Amatis immediately looked eager.
"Oh! I'm just going to have to make more then," she said, looking at the pan of Luke's chili that was simmering on the stove. "I had better get started!"
She left her aunt scuttling around the kitchen and went back to the barn. She stood in front of Caspian's stall and he picked his head up, walking over to her.
"Hey, Cas," she said quietly. She sat on the hay bale that was just outside of his stall and watched as he brought his head out, sniffing the hay and taking a large bite. As he chewed, Clary wondered if she really could get her jockey's license. She would have to get permission from both her aunt and her uncle considering that she was still only sixteen. Clary loved riding, but she wasn't sure if she was ready to be thrust into the middle of the horse racing world. The thought of her actually being a jockey was more of a distant dream.
Her thoughts shifted to Jace as she sat with Caspian, thinking about everything that he said and trying to make sense of him. While plucking at a piece of straw, she heard Luke calling her. She stood and looked at the clock. It was almost six. Throwing the straw aside, she went outside and saw Luke walking in her direction.
"You invited him to dinner?" he asked. "That was nice of you."
"Yeah, I figured he would want a good home cooked meal after eating bread and butter for so long," she said.
"Well, I'm glad you've warmed up to him." Clary let him believe that, she didn't want to tell him that she was not warming up to him. Not by a long shot.
"Come on," he said, as they walked to the house. Clary had thought that they were going to have the same kind of dinner as always; small and cozy. That was nothing like the show she saw when she walked in. There was plate upon plate of different dishes. Her aunt's special garlic mashed potatoes, a pot of green beans smothered with caramelized onions, a large salad with every kind of lettuce, seven baked sweet potatoes, spaghetti with a pesto sauce, a pasta salad, and the pan of Luke's chili that looked very small compared to everything else. But in the center of it all was a large pork roast with a garnish of parsley. All of it was placed neatly on the dining room table, which they never used except for on birthdays and holidays. The scene looked like something you would see on the food network.
Amatis walked to the table and placed a basket of warm bread next to the pork, smoothing her hands over table cloth to get rid of the wrinkles.
"There," she said triumphantly as she looked over her work.
"It looks great," Clary said, still in a bit of shock.
"Let's hope it tastes great too," Amatis added.
There was a knock at the door, and Clary went to answer it. Swinging the door open, she found a very annoyed looking Simon glaring at Jace who was sporting a smug grin. They both turned to look at her when the door opened.
"What's going on?" she asked, glancing between the two boys suspiciously.
Jace recovered his composure first. "Nothing, I'm just getting to know your little friend. He's very…" Jace paused, looking for a word. "Touchy."
Simon scoffed, "Yeah, OK and-"
"Stop," she interrupted. "Just come inside."
Simon glowered at her before he walked in first, and Clary gave Jace a frown before she turned to follow him. There were a few exchanged 'hello's' and 'how are you's' before everyone sat down and started filling their plates. It was quiet except for the clattering of silverware.
"So, Jace, how do you like the cabin? Do you have everything you need?" Amatis broke the silence in a motherly tone.
Jace put his fork down and Clary noticed that he was left handed. "It's great, I like the décor," he smirked at Clary. "And no, I think I've got everything, thank you."
"Good," Amatis smiled. Jace's attitude confused her. He was so well behaved in front of her aunt and uncle. It was the opposite of the cocky attitude he had towards her, and aparently, Simon. His personality was so hot and cold that it left Clary wondering just were his mind really was. And that was not a good thing for someone who had just gotten out of jail.
The conversation flowed freely from then on. Her aunt and uncle seemed to like talking to Jace. From their perspective he could even be considered charming. Although, Clary did notice that Simon wasn't talking to Jace at all. Obviously, something had happened outside between the two of them. But she couldn't blame Simon for not liking him, considering she didn't either. Clary couldn't stand that he wasn't even there one day and he was already making enemies.
"How was the meeting with John Newman?" Luke asked. Clary hadn't noticed that the conversation had focused on her.
"Hmm?" she asked.
"The meeting with John Newman?" her uncle prompted.
"Oh, um, it was good. He's definitely interested in Cas," she answered. "I ended up riding for him and, uh, he asked me if I had jockey's license."
"Did he? Well, you must've shown him a pretty good ride," Amatis added.
"I guess. I mean, I did the same thing that I did this morning." She looked at her food.
"I think you'd make an awesome jockey," Simon chimed in. "You'd kick ass!"
Clary laughed, and peeked at Jace when Simon started talking about racing asses. He was chuckling under his breath as he shook his head over his plate. His eyes were warmer now, as if the gold in them had melted when he was having fun. She noticed that he had a slight bump on the bridge of his nose, as if he he'd broken it once and it never healed correctly. He began to talk, and Clary watched the way his jaw moved.
He turned his head in her direction, feeling her eyes on him. She snapped her head down to her plate and stabbed a green bean, shoving it into her mouth hastily. Clary saw him smirk at her from the corner of her eye before he turned and immersed himself into the conversation once more.
When everyone was full, Amatis rushed to start putting the dishes away and everyone stood up to help out. Luke, Amatis and Simon were over at the sink washing and drying dishes while Clary and Jace were taking plates from the table and over to them. As Clary reached for the empty pan that the sweet potatoes had been in, Jace was reaching for the bowl of green beans. His hand brushed against her arm, and raised goosebumps on her skin. She wasn't sure if the contact had been intentional, so she acted as if it hadn't happened. Turning back to the kitchen, she could have sworn that he watched her leave.
Once everything was cleaned, both Simon and Jace left to their respective houses. Yawning, Clary shuffled to her room. It was already dark outside and she could hear the chirping of the crickets outside her open window. She brushed her teeth in the dark; she didn't bother turning on the lamp. The moonlight lit the bathroom enough. She undressed and put on a large t-shirt that reached the middle of her thighs. She slowly peeled back the covers on her bed and slid underneath the soft, quilted fabric. Her eyes drifted shut and she was asleep within seconds.
What did ya think?
