The Lovely Awkward Moments
JACE
"Slightly twisted, slightly out of control/ Seemingly crazy, seemingly true/ A patch of neon in a world of navy blue/ That quickly changes to prints to take over you…"
I was the kid that sat closest to the door in Mr. David's cluttered room, ready to make a quick escape in case anyone looked at me funny. I kept my head down and my hood up—I might as well have dyed my hair and worn a dress for all the fucks I give.
Right now my count is at too many.
Keeping my distance, I silently listened as students read off their excerpts, and poems, and fanfiction to the rest of the writing club. It was all so foreign to me. Unknown yet…intriguing….By the time Clary stood read her poem I was itching for some pen and paper.
"So we might be crazy, but we're a hell of a time/ We do not conform to societies' line." Clary continued, "We venture where most teens wouldn't dare/ We obsess, we creep, we laugh, we cry/ All in front of anyone wanting to watch our show…" She paused. A faint blush crept onto her cheeks. "That's all I have so far." She said in a small voice.
A clatter of snaps—yes snaps—hissed around me. All I needed now was a latte and a plush chair and then it would've been an official coffee shop reading. Although, it was hard to be relaxed when the severed baby doll head on an empty Jack Daniel's bottle was staring into your skull….
Yeah, it was time for me to get out of here.
Mr. David called out a "Thanks for coming!" just as the door closed behind me. Only then did I yank my hood down and shake my curls out. Being undercover was too much for me but it was worth it. Clary's poem blew everyone else's out of the water—even if it was unfinished. I'll have to hear the rest when she's done. That's a must.
"Is that Jace Wayland?" Someone wondered from behind.
I turned around at the sound of my name and I instantly wished I hadn't. Right in the middle of the hallway with a clear view of me was Clary Fray.
Oh shit.
"Were you just…in the writing club?" She asked.
"I—uh…." I was at a loss of words I didn't have one excuse, not one smart remark. I was fucking blushing for God's sake!
"I um," I tried again. "gotta go."
I failed. I spun away from her and booked it down that hallway.
I heard a sigh. "Well did you at least like it?"
My pace slowed and debate fired up in my head. Should I tell her I loved it or lie and say I hated it? My reputation! No, fuck that. I should tell her I love her! No. Hell no. God, I can't think straight with her staring at me like this…her eyes are so green….By the angel just say something already!"
"I liked the last part…." I hesitated—I can't fuck this up! "'A Patch of Neon' right? I'd really love to hear the whole thing sometime."
Involuntarily—and my some strike of genius—I fished out a crumpled piece of paper and a pen, wrote down 10, highly exclusive, numbers, and handed it to her. "Text me when you finish?"
She eyed the paper cautiously but a slight grin burst onto her lips as she took it. I could only see delight in her eyes when she slid it into a safe place. "I'll think about it, Jace."
She started to walk away from me but turned around at the last minute. "You know, I'm really glad you like it. So…thank you I guess…." I could see the heat start to rush to her face but she walked away from me before I could see the full affect.
She is too effing cute and I promise you something just fluttered in my stomach.
XXX
ISABELLE
"I hope you guys are warm because we're taking it from the top." Mrs. Wise's voice echoed throughout the theater.
We all sluggishly moved to our beginning positions for the collaboration piece. So Ben B. could have a fully functional stage at its use but never had any heat? Backstage was effing freezing! I had to have all my sweats on just so I could move. My muscles were warm, yes, but my socks were not coming off. I did not feel like having to dance with frozen toes—trust me it's not pleasant.
We ran and spaced the piece again, and again, and again. It got to be tiring work after a while and we all got toasty pretty quickly. The sweats were long gone and I wore the shorts and tank top I had on underneath. Functional, but I'm surprised Mrs. Wise didn't say anything about me not "following Benjamin B. Dance dress code". Nobody follows it in the first place.
Often she would walk over to the sound system to start the music but I knew I was the only one who knew what the music sounded like live. Everyone else was in for a treat when the musicians get here—their rendition is so much better than this recording. But for the next hour I'll have to put up with it, as well as mounds of corrections, second day sore muscles, and sassy male dancers for the cherry on top. These long rehearsals were beyond stressful, but I still loved this dance…and I'm guessing the one person in the audience did too. When Mrs. Wise gave us a water break I went into the rows of plush, red seats and sat next to our only fan. "Don't you have until 5:00, Simon?"
"I…um…wanted to come in early. To watch you guys before we started playing." He stuttered. I could've sworn I saw his cheeks flush up. I let it go. "Okay, that's cool." I kicked my feet up on the empty seat in front of me. "Don't look at my feet, they're gross."
Of course, he started looking. I waited for his face to change as he discovered the calluses, the scabs, the scars of past marks, but it never twisted. Not one bit. "It's a part of who you are." He said sweetly. He held up his hands and just on the tips of his fingers were tiny, round calluses. "I guess dancers and musicians have something in common."
My smile matched his as I ran my fingers across his. They weren't as soft as mine but they emitted warmth that was just as comforting. Really comforting.
"Do your hands always get this cold when you dance?" he said.
"Uh—not usually." I was caught off guard by his random question. I didn't even notice my hands were frozen until then. Now that I think about it, they're actually solid blocks of ice…. "Only when I dance in here, I think."
He took his fingertips off mine and sandwiched my hands between his. "Any better?"
I nodded slowly and felt the heat slowly seeping back into my skin. What I thought was his comfort before had been multiplied now. "So who else is coming to play tonight?" I asked, trying to make conversation.
"Oh, it's me Jace, Josh, and a few others I don't think you'll know."
"Josh is coming? Ew."
Simon's brow furrowed but there was a slight smile on his lips. "You don't like Josh?"
"Hmm, I'm conflicted. He's Jace's best friend so I have to at least tolerate him, and sometimes he can be a real sweetheart, but he's such a player!"
"And you're talking about Josh? Not Jace who is the player who will also be here tonight?"
"Well, with Jace it's different. At least he won't be staring at my ass while I dance. Josh on the other hand…."
"Will try to see through the tank top?"
"I should probably put my jacket back on when he gets here."
"Yeah, that's probably best!"
We laughed it off. It was easy to with him. I had to admit, if I was going to be friends with any guy, Jace did right when he chose Simon. It was a really nice change to talk to a boy without having to worry if he wants to hook up or not. Normalcy, finally….
"I hope you know that I would never do that." He said, and for a moment I thought he had read my mind. "You just worry about the dance. I'll keep everyone else…focused."
"Thanks." I murmured. How else was I supposed to reply? It's been so long since a guy's been this sweet to me—there's got to be a better way to handle this.
His smile mirrored mine and his eyes were brighter than ever. He held my gaze for a moment but his eyes cut to the stage before it got awkward. Mine drifted to our hands that were still intertwined even though my fingers were plenty warm now. I didn't try to untangle them.
"I think you're needed back on set, Ms. Lightwood."
He was right, unfortunately. I could hear the voices of the other dancers coming back to the stage. Mrs. Wise trailed closely behind them, "Once more before the musicians get here!" I rolled my eyes. "I guess I've got to go."
"I'll be on stage in a little while. Just find me if your hands ever get cold." He flashed me a grin.
Mine grew a little wider. "Will do."
I swung my feet off the chair as gracefully as possible but the minute my feet hit the floor I regretted standing in the first place. Black spots started to cover my vision and I felt like I was swirling downward very fast. One of my hands shot out to keep myself from falling but warm arms caught me before I hit the ground and held me tight as I fumbled for balance.
"Isabelle, are you okay?" Simon whispered.
"Yeah. I'm fine." I huffed, irritated. I fought my way out of his grip and scrambled to my feet. I did not feel like being saved. Especially by a guy I barely know—scratch that—by a guy in general. I know I'm stronger than that.
I stared at the floor with my hands on my knees. Making sure to take deep breaths so my vision could clear and so the ringing to subside. It may not seem like a big deal, but if it's happening when I stand up I can't imagine what it'll be like when I'm low on breath and upside down.
Not again! I thought I got past this. Why won't this ever go away?
I didn't try to move for a long while and the entire time Simon stood behind me with the same tensed expression. "Does this happen often?" Concern coated his voice and covered his face.
Too much. I thought. "Not really." I said. When I could see my feet I slowly started to inch my way forward. "I'll have fun trying to dance after this!"
"Be careful!" he called out after me.
I started to jog away, but the ringing started again so I slowed to a walk. "I'll try!" I called back and then took my glorious time crawling onto that frozen stage.
Before the dance began I thought, deep breaths. Between each lift, breathe! During my solo, open your mouth and take a breath. And at the very end, take it slow, you get more air through your mouth, don't gasp, rest, fill your lungs.
Afterwards, while everyone else got to celebrate how good of a run that was, I had to sit down with my head between my knees so I wouldn't pass out. Just like every other time.
XXX
JACE
"Dat ass," Josh whispered. Although all the musicians could hear, I'm surprised Izzy didn't turn around—it was her ass he was admiring.
"It's not being shown off to you now is it?" I whispered back.
"Not intentionally but I'm getting a nice view. I knew there was a reason musicians were put in the back!"
"Is it really that hard to watch the movement?" Simon interjected, "That's so much better than staring at their asses when we're supposed to be focused on the music anyways."
"Aww look at Simon being a goody two shoes!" Josh leaned across my seat to teasingly pinch his cheek. "Bet you don't even like chicks anyways."
"I like girls," Simon murmured. "I just know how to respect them—unlike you…." His gaze flickered to me and then back to Josh. "The both of you, actually!"
"Whoa now!" Josh and I said in unison. "Don't get nasty!"
"Do you guys hear what those girls say about you once you're finished with them? Do you even bother to notice how you treat them like shit when you're with them? It's just…" he shook his head, "It gives guys a bad name."
Josh held up a sassy finger, obviously pissed off. "Just because we see more action than you doesn't mean you can shut us down like that! Okay?!" It was probably a good thing that I separated the two of them—Josh looked ready to shove a fist in the kid's face.
Simon took his attention away from us and warily zoned back in on his music. It was quiet for a while, save for the slight sound of the dancer's feet a little distance in front of us. "Good luck trying to get a girl that actually likes you for you." He muttered.
That shut us up right quick.
Not a soul on this earth except for Izzy knows how I feel for Clary, but Simon's words just reminded me of the impossibility of this promise I've made. The usual "she likes me because I'm Jace" clause is void—to her I'm just a pretty face with a bad reputation.
A bad rep that likes writing club—but a bad rep nonetheless.
Josh may not care, but I sure as hell do. If not always then right now as I'm trying to win Clary's heart.
Simon on the other hand seems to have everything going for him. He's a nice guy with a good talent that doesn't have any past relationships lurking around spreading terribly true rumors about him. I guess he's…decent looking…Izzy should like him, right? I mean, here she is with her back turned to us, completely unaware that the guy playing the cello right behind us has the hugest crush on her. It's kind of cute, actually.
"Hey," Josh piped up. He should really give it a rest. "Lots of girls like me! Izzy does!"
Surprisingly, Simon and I both laughed. "No she doesn't!" We said together. I glanced over at him as he tried to stifle his laughter. Did Izzy tell him that? I might be losing this bet sooner than I thought….
"…What?" Josh looked like he just witnessed a terrible tragedy—and for him it probably was. I love Izzy to death, but all the guys know—including me—that she's a prize. That's as good as it gets. And yeah, I guess it would be a tragedy if you found out she hated your guts.
Sucks for them. I can guarantee Simon's the only guy she's ever come close to liking.
"But everything we had. Everything we did did…it was so great…."
Simon cut in. Very fast. "Get over it dude! She doesn't like you, okay?!"
"Oh, and she likes you?" Josh glared.
Yes. But nobody here knew that except for me. She didn't even know.
Simon on the other hand grew quiet and drew back. "Well I don't know about that…." His eyes were on his feet and even after his strike of bravery, he suddenly looked very small. "It'd be a nice thought, though."
Josh's fist was clenched hard around his bow and his lips were pursed in a thin line. He was starting to get flustered—a funny sight, Josh flustered—but still, he spoke. "When she sleeps with you I'll believe it. Until then you're nothing to her."
That might as well been a punch in the gut, Simon nearly fell out of his chair. He can't believe that's true. My sister's not like that, is she?
Josh looked ready to go again but luckily the dance director spoke up, "Musicians? Can we try the piece from the top and I'll let everyone go? Great rehearsal you guys."
The dancers cheered their way to their spots and the musicians sighed before we poised our bows, and on the director's signal made our instruments sing.
It was extremely difficult to play and watch the dancers at the same time, but somehow I made it happen. It was amazing how the dancers just kept going and going—it was near 8:00 and they weren't marking at all. Sure playing music was hard but even I had to admit that the dancers are the hard workers.
Near the end of the piece I had a break where Simon played his solo and Izzy did her thing. Here she was gliding across the stage and Simon was playing so effortlessly—together they were phenomenal and everyone knew it. Some of the dancers off stage stared in awe and others looked jealous—but they could fuck off. God knows how hard Izzy's worked for this—she's the best and she deserves every ounce of praise. The music was golden and Izzy was an angel on that stage.
Again, she'll probably never hear this.
I came back in and the dance closed nicely, with only a few corrections from our directors. Once they were done everyone was dismissed.
I swear I've never seen anybody move faster than dancers after rehearsal.
I put my violin up and nodded a goodbye to Josh and Simon when Izzy came over to get me. I walked with her back to the dance studios so she could get her stuff, then slowly we headed towards the car, finally going home.
"The music sounds really good Jace. I love the piece."
I smiled slightly in the darkness. "Thanks, sis. And um…you're solo,"
"Yeah?" She said sweetly, she looked at me with wide eyes.
"It looks really good. You and Simon are great together."
She gave me a quick hug around the waist. "Thank you, Jace! I never thought you'd say anything like that!"
"Me neither." I muttered too low for her to hear.
"Shit!" She yelled and her hands went straight to her hair. "I left my sweats in the theater!"
"But you're wearing pants…."
"No, these are my cutoffs I left my long ones—I'll be right back just pull around please!"
I sighed and looked after her as she sprinted towards the school. Sometimes she could be annoying as hell and other times equally as cute.
And then there's times like these where she's both.
XXX
ISABELLE
I ran as fast as I could back into the school building, bounding around corners, bolting down stairs and just avoiding running into the deadly sculptures that lined the art hallways on the zero floor. Even though it was pitch black I knew exactly when I hit the backstage hallway—the cold was immediate. Trying to maneuver myself around chairs, props, light trees, tables, and fog machines made retrieving my sweats more like a secret agent mission than the simple task it should've been.
When I finally found my way to stage right I debated whether or not to get them at all. It was almost impossible to find anything backstage. It's practically a vortex, not to mention it was extremely creepy this late at night.
I decided to go in. Those were my favorite sweats after all and I was not about to lose them tonight.
I treaded on carefully while my eyes searched the ground. So much so that I didn't even notice the audience lights were on. Not that they helped, I was still without sight in the wings. It also took a while to notice that somebody was still on stage. It didn't register until I heard the music start to play. I froze then, feeling oddly like I was invading this person's privacy. Although it was hard not to stay and listen, the cello is a beautiful instrument after all.
Simon!
Of course.
I held my breath for a moment, unsure if I should keep looking or just give up all together. I glanced over my shoulder at him. He looked just like he did the first time I saw him play, he was in his own world and he looked like he loved it.
More importantly he looked like he wouldn't notice me.
I made my way to my knees and slowly scoured the floor. I checked under props and chairs and after a long minute spotted my sweats in the very back corner next to the sound system. I swear they move on their own sometimes.
I crawled my way over to them trying to be as soundless as possible. How stupid I must look crawling around on this ice cold, pitch black floor for some pants that—maybe—would've still been here tomorrow. But no. Instead I'm caught in this situation. FML.
This was too much for some warm ups. I regretted coming here in the first place but what happened next was what I regret most. I wouldn't have stayed, honestly! I would've been out the door in a heartbeat—but the minute I got to my feet I finally recognized the song Simon was playing so beautifully. Hell, I've known it by heart ever since I saw the musical two summers ago. I sing it every time I hear the tune, and somehow I just knew that I my feet weren't going to carry me out of that theater before I did so….
"Take this sinking boat, and point it home. We've still got time….Raise your hopeful voice, you have a choice. You've made it now…."
The minute my mouth closed Simon's head whipped in my direction, and he didn't stop playing either. He was so focused and he smiled as he sang the next line, "Falling slowly, eyes that know me, and I can't go back…"
His eyes begged me to continue, and I really did want to. I wanted my little glee moment, I could feel the next line on my lips but I was too stunned to make a sound.
Surely now he thinks I'm a stalkerish creep with a mediocre singing voice—I know, the whole "that's why you're in the dance cluster" deal. I just completely blew my cover and I was probably redder than a tomato. Nothing makes Isabelle Lightwood blush…except maybe total embarrassment. Fuck.
The only thing my body could do besides blush was run away. And that's exactly what I did.
I could hear him calling my name from behind as he chased after me. But I had too much of a head start and I was gone. I ran out of that building as quickly as I came in—I nearly slammed full force into Jace's car. I threw my sweats in the back with the rest of my stuff and slid into the front seat, breathing hard and eyes bulging.
"You okay, Izzy? That took a while…."
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sorry, I'm sorry but…" I paused in between gasps and started to calm down. "Did you know that Simon has a lovely singing voice?"
XXX
What is happening to me?
I threw my bags on the floor and crashed onto my bed. It's the second day of school and I'm being nice to some guy I've just met? No. I did not spend years hardening my heart so I could crumble with this one boy.
But Simon was just so nice. And he caught me prince charming style when I fell and he's just sokind and caring and geeky and…nice!
Well, I thought Josh was nice too. And Luke, and Chase, and Austin, and he who shall not be named. Yeah, they were all nice until they got what they wanted. Then I was the toy, or the rebound, or the bitch. I'm so done with that! Who's to say Simon won't be the like the rest of them? No, I can't like him. Not possible.
But his smile and his eyes! This time it'll be different. It's got to be, right?
Ugh, there I go getting hopeful. I lost that a long time ago. I can't go back down that road. Not again.
My internal battle continued until the moment I climbed into my bed and the entire time my status never changed. Either I like him or I'm telling myself to hate him. Jace did a good job choosing this bet. He couldn't have known it was going to be this hard for me, yet I'm ready to forfeit because….
Because, honestly I'm scared. I hate admitting it but I'm terrified.
I'm afraid that if I trust him he'll betray me and I can't afford to have that happen again. The scars are still fading from last time….
I pressed my wrist to my side and tried not to think about it.
For the longest time I've wanted somebody to talk to—somebody to tell me that everything's going to be okay. But I haven't had that in years, and now I've got that chance….
I was on the edge of sleep when my phone beeped. 1 message from Simon. 'I didn't know you could sing? That's awesome!'
'But I can't so…' I replied.
'But you can. And you sounded beautiful. Honestly.'
I didn't reply for a while, so he asked, 'Ever thought about cross-clustering?'
'Please stop.' I begged. I tried to kill all the butterflies in my stomach. 'Don't say things you don't mean.'
'When it comes to you, Isabelle, I mean everything I say.'
I stared at the screen for a long moment, and then later at the ceiling. Feeling so conflicted now more than ever if I'm going to go with my head or my heart—so cliché, I know. But love is cliché, and like every love-struck teenage girl I'm siding with my heart and hoping I won't regret it in the future. I always do though.
Well this time better prove me wrong.
Thank you, Simon. I finally sent.
No way he could still be up—not for me, right? But here was an almost instant reply. 'Just doing my job. Night Isabelle :) See you tomorrow'
My mind screamed no. My body screamed no. My gut screamed hell no. Don't get yourself into this mess again Isabelle….
I squashed my thoughts back down and quelled my pessimism. I've been through hell and back, I deserve to be happy—everyone deserves to be happy. I've been denying it for too long, it's time for a change and I don't care what my head says. Before, it was a race I couldn't win.
But now I'm gaining the advantage.
