Chapter 3
A/N: I know that the last chapter was really sucky, and I've tried to make up for it here (key word: tried). I really need info about american high schools, how they "work", what subjects you have, ho long recess is, etc, so please post a review or PM me about it, I'm kinda desperate! Anyways, on to the story ;)
Clary lay (A/N: lied?) in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She couldn't sleep, and she had a feeling thinking about something that agitated her wouldn't help, not this time. Sighing, she rolled over – again – and hit her pillow with her fist a few times, just in case that would help her fall asleep. But no such luck.
An hour later, Clary was still awake, and she was having hard time breathing. Somehow, her whole situation had crashed down on her, and she was panicking.
Clary was going to live with these people, for two years, in this suffocating neighborhood that was so damn perfect. Clary couldn't handle perfect. Not since her "family" had thrown her out, discarding her like last night's trash. Clary suddenly felt as if the walls were closing in on her, and she kicked desperately at the sheets, but only managed to tangle them further around her legs.
She had to get out.
Clary tried to jump out of bed, but landed in a heap on the floor. She stood up, and almost fell over again, but she had miraculously managed to untangle her body from the bedspread. She rushed blindly out of her room, very nearly tripping over her own feet on the way down the stairs, looking for the door outside. Finally, after frantically searching every corner of the massive house (once, she almost fell over on a sleeping Isabelle), she found it. Clary opened the door with a huge exhalation of breath, and went through it to the garden, shutting it softly behind her.
Clary tip-toed through the damp grass, absentmindedly wishing she'd brought a coat, or at least something warmer than the camisole and flannel pajama pants she was wearing now.
After a few minutes of wandering around, Clary found an old swing set. Strange, given that all the Lightwood children were teenagers, but she didn't think much about it. Instead, she sat down, and took a few deep breaths. Going outside had really calmed her, but her head was still spinning.
Why did this happen to her? When she was a small girl, Clary was just like everybody else. Her parents had loved her, she'd had a big brother who took care of her. But then, everything changed. Her family started to ignore her, only acknowledging her presence when it was absolutely required. Clary had gotten so lonely - she'd never been good at making friends, and now that her family barely looked at her anymore, it was all she could do not to end her life. End it just to escape the aching emptiness that had taken over her world.
Whenever Clary asked her parents or brother why they were doing this to her, they just turned away without a word, leaving a sad and confused girl behind them, green eyes shining with unshed tears.
It continued like that until she was 14 years old. Clary got home from school one day to find all her things stuffed into a dozen old bags on the perfectly manicured lawn. Her so-called family was standing next to them, telling her what a disappointment she was, how she was neither smart nor beautiful, how she was a burden they no longer wished to bear. With no recognizable talent, she was just an average girl, and they had no room for average in their perfect little lives. Then they went inside their grand house, shutting the door on their daughter forever.
Clary didn't get it, not then. What kind of people would exile on of their own kin just because they weren't geniuses, or had the looks of a future miss America? But she figured out the answer long ago. Her family. Her cruel, stuck-up, fucking moronic family.
Clary wasn't aware that she was crying until the tears were flowing freely down her cheeks. Stupid, she told herself. This is exactly why they threw you out. Because you're weak. Weak and pathetic.
The tears were coming faster now, and she released an anguished sob. Why now? She hadn't thought about her family for years, always taking great care never to open that door again. The pain was too great, but not always because of what they did to her, but because she feared her family had been right. She was just a silly girl, after all. If her own blood couldn't stand to be near her, how could anybody else? If Maryse knew how Clary really was, surely she wouldn't care about her anymore. Not even Simon, her ex-best friend, had stayed with her longer than a few months.
Clary didn't notice the sound of approaching footsteps until she felt the pressure of a warm hand on her shoulder. She looked up, and her eyes widened in surprise.
"W-what are you doing out here?" she asked, frantically trying to dry her wet cheeks with the back of her hand.
"You tell me," answered Jace, a faint trace of amusement in his voice. "I was just taking some fresh air, and all of a sudden I heard the sound of someone crying. Are you okay?" Jace removed his hand from her shoulder to sit down at the swing next to hers.
"Taking some air? At 3 am? And I'm fine, thanks for asking," Clary said, embarrassed that he'd caught her.
Jace laughed softly.
"You don't seem fine to me."
"And you didn't answer my question. What are you doing outside at three in the morning, except for hitting on poor unsuspecting girls?" Clary turned toward Jace and glared at him, a wasted effort considering the fact that he probably couldn't see it in the weak light the half-moon provided.
Jace scoffed. "As if. And as for your question, I was doing exactly what I said. Taking some air. Couldn't sleep, and figured I might as well do something productive." His mouth curled up at the ends – at least Clary thought it did, she couldn't be sure, since the sun hadn't magically made an appearance in the last few seconds.
"And I assume this counts as productive?" Clary swore she could feel him smirking.
"Absolutely. And stop changing the subject. Why were you crying?" His voice took on a concerned note, and Clary wondered why. She'd only known him for about 5 hours, and he'd spent most of that time acting like a complete douche bag.
"Maybe I was mourning the fact that I'll have to spend the next two years of my life living in close proximity to you." She figured insulting him was the best way to get him away from her; she didn't want him to know about her family. He'd immediately dismiss her as a failure, and for some reason unbeknownst to her, Clary wanted him to stay. She felt a connection to this boy, even though she'd only known him for a few hours.
"You wound me. Most girls would give anything to live in the same house as this." Jace gestured up and down his body and grinned at her. Clary didn't need light to see it; his light seemed to illuminate the darkness around him, as if he glowed. Clary couldn't look away.
Shaking her head slightly to get rid of the strange feeling, she coughed and said (A/N: What are you supposed to do there? I'll just guess…) "Well I'm not most girls, now am I?"
"No. You're not," Jace mumbled, before he stood up and went back inside, leaving a confused Clary to mull over what just happened.
PLEASE READ THIS AUTHOR'S NOTE! IMPORTANT (KIND OF) The first little section-thingy is just a little thank you thingy, but please read the 2nd one (and the first, if you're up for it)
A/N: Hi again! Thank you so much to everyone who read this, especially those of you who favorite, followed, or reviewed! I get so happy every time I see a new follower, favorite, or review… if you looked through my window you may or may not see a crazy redhead jumping up and down squealing like she just found out Hush,hush was becoming a movie (cue another session of the aforementioned behavior).
Anyway, I think the next chapter's going to be the first day of school, and since I have absolutely no idea how American high schools work, please review or PM me as much info as you have! What classes do you have? What, exactly, is a period (school period, that is. I am disturbingly well acquainted with the other kind)? How long are they? Do you actually have the same classes every day? In that case, isn't it boring? Please give me info,I'm shooting in the dark here…
Crazy person – aka DeUtvalda (btw, has anyone read The Circle? It's awesome! I can't wait for the 3rd book, Nyckeln, to come out this year )
