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Have the next chapter for ya! Super quick update~

It's longer too...

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Jace

August 22th

"Jace! JACE!" I roll over, out of my bed, to find the source of the screaming. I swing open my bedroom door to find Isabelle standing in the doorway holding two items in her hands.

"Finally! God are you deaf or something?" she pushes pass me into my room.

"Come on in," I mutter under my breath. My head is pounding; it literally feels like someone is striking a hammer to my forehead a million times per minute.

"The gold or the silver ones?" She asks.

"What?" I rub my eyes and turn towards her, and that's when I realize she's holding two pairs of earrings. But I don't understand, why the hell she would ask me about that sort of thing.

"Which would look better with my outfit? The gold hoops or the silver discs?" she adds as if I didn't even speak.

That's when I absorb my sister's outfit, a purple and black floral dress with matching silver shoes. Why was she so dressed up? It's still the summer and it's not like we have people banging on our doors inviting us to parties, yet.

"Where are you going anyways?" I flop down on my bed, still sleepy.

Isabelle crosses her arms and gives me an annoyed expression as if I should have known this already, "I told you! I'm going out with Clary today."

Clary. How could I forget? She did tell me about this. Something about the mysterious redhead across the street intrigued me.

Something about her is so rattling, even I can't explain it.

The second I laid my eyes on her, I knew she is different. So unlike the other slutty girls at my old school who craved to get my attention, who literally would fight to even get talk to me.

And then there is Clary. Her eyes would room the room lazily, as if she is in her own world, not even caring or noticing you're in the room with her.

She doesn't care about me, she doesn't care to get my attention. And it's driving me utterly insane.

"Hello…Jace?" Isabelle calls, vexed. "Help?"

She's still on the useless topic of those earrings, "the silver ones." I tell her, without even looking at her.

Isabelle cheers, "Yay! That's what I was thinking! They match my shoes!"

I moan, why did I have to deal with this, this early in the morning? "Why didn't you just ask Alec or Max?" Max is another one our younger siblings. He didn't go the dinner because Maryse claimed he was too young. I feel bad for that kid most of the time. He always get's told he's too young for everything.

"Because Max is with Mom at the comic book store," He's obsessed with comics, "And Alec is-"

She is cut off by the sharp sound of the doorbell.

"Oh crap!" Isabelle exclaims, "She's here already, I'm not even close to ready." She frowns as she runs across my room to the door. "Jace please answer the door." Isabelle walks out the door and then turns back for a spilt second. "And try to be nice…"

I smile, even though she can't see it. "Me? Always." I call back to her, as I get up to answer the door.

Clary

The shinny glass reflects a blurry picture of myself. All I can see is a mane of red hair and a set of green eyes; every other feature on my visage is gone.

I use to adore my red hair and green eyes; "you look just like your mother," they would all say. And now every time I look in the mirror, it's like a punch to my gut. Why do I have to look so much her? It sometimes haunts me in my nightmares.

I think I see my mother, her beautiful sharp, and porcelain features shine in the moonlight. But once I get closer to her in the dream, I realize it's only an illusion. I'm staring at myself.

And then I wake up.

It happens all the time, I told Luke about the strange nightmares one time and he just said it was a side effect of the pills and not to worry about it.

But he didn't realize it is tearing me apart.

I can see it in him all the time too, the miserable glances he sometimes gives me. And it's not because I do something wrong, it's because I resemble her so much.

And it's tearing him apart as well.

I vowed to myself the second I graduate high school and I'm eighteen, I would get the hell out of Brooklyn. It would be better for Luke and for me.

I catch a tear daring to escape and close my eyes for a few seconds.

Focus Clary, focus. Think about the future, not about the past.

When I open my eyes, I flicker them over to the clock, crap. I was going to be late if I didn't start to get ready now.

Yes, Clary Fray is trying to look nice again! Has the World gone mad?

I throw on a pair of dark blue jeans and a light charcoal sweater, with a pair of vans.

The whole purple-white-light-color outfit yesterday wasn't me. Isabelle and the rest of the Lightwoods would soon figure that out.

While grabbing a handbag and my phone, I scribbled a note to Luke telling him where I will be incase he came home from the bookstore early. I doubt it though, it seems he's been spending a lot more time there lately.

I swing open the door and I'm about to walk out when I remember them.

My pills.

I'm supposed to take them twice a day, in the morning and before I go to bed.

But I guess one day without them won't hurt right?

I carry on, completely ignoring the alarm in the back of my head, by walking towards the Lightwood's house.

I'll just have to ensure I eat a good lunch to keep my blood sugar high. Then everything will be fine, correct?

I fidget with my sweater line once I reach their house. Butterflies dance in my stomach as I ring the doorbell. I'm still not so sure why this family makes me so nervous. Maybe because they're the first teenagers my age I've really talked to in a few months. Or maybe it's because of something else….

Of course, Jace has to answer the door. He's dressed in a smug smile and as soon as he sees me, his eyes run lazily all over me. It makes me feel naked, and uncovered. I cross my arms over my chest as if I could hide that.

He leans on the doorway, blocking my way to get inside the house, "And what do we have here?"

"I'm here to see Isabelle." I say shortly.

He whips his head back and forth, almost like he is searching for something. "Well I don't see Isabelle around here," he returns his eyes back to me.

I let out a long breath; I wasn't in the mood to deal with this. "Could you fetch her for me then?" I ask him as politely as I could have.

"I don't know," he stretches his arms above his head and lets out a yawn, "I'm getting pretty tired just standing here talking to you."

I shake my head, "Whatever Jace," I unfreeze and walk over to the door, about to walk over his legs.

But then he's there. He moved faster than anyone I've ever seen before, and he's blocking my path to get inside their house. I tilt my head up, to look at him, and he's already staring down at me. His golden eyes shinning as well as his smile.

"Maybe you should move a little faster next time, little red."

I bite my lip, in exasperation, tasting blood. What is it about him that ticks me off so much? I just couldn't wrap my mind around it.

"My name is NOT little red." I shoot back at him, unable to come up with a better comeback.

Just when he's about to respond, I hear the shuffle of feet behind me. And the silhouette of Isabelle appears right behind Jace.

"Clary!" her bubbly voice speaks, "Sorry I'm late, but let's go!" She knocks Jace out of the way and grabs me by the elbow to lead me out of the house.

Isabelle's chatting about something but I'm not really paying attention. I can't help but think about Jace, the way it looks like there is a golden halo directly over him, and the way he looks at me, with a hint of wonder and curiosity.

And I can't help but look back at the house while Isabelle is pulling me away.

There he still is. Standing in the doorway, his eyes set on me.

Isabelle's car smells very strongly of vanilla perfume.

The second I stepped foot into her black Lexus, I had to cover my mouth to stop the urge to cough.

Her car was surprise dirty though. The floor of the car is covered in sports bar packages and all her cup holders are filled with empty Starbucks cup that have mold crawling up the sides of most of them. I now understand why she added the vanilla scent.

The car ride was chill. Isabelle chitchatted about random things, like her old school, and her expectations of St. Xaviers. While a Miley Cyrus mix played loudly in the background.

It felt normal. For once in awhile, I felt calm.

I took her to the brewery first.

I knew I would probably regret this later, but it would be good for her to be introduced to the number one hang out spot in town.

And I'm right, like usual.

It's completely crowded, I can see people sitting against the wall in the corner because they can't find any seats. There goes my plan on sitting down and striking up a conversation with people from school.

It's like the movies, I'm not even joking. I lead Isabelle to the counter, and people literally turn their heads to look at her, like she's some sort of God or something. It's pathetic, teenager hormones are crazy these days I guess. I can't relate though.

She flashes a few people smiles, and I groan and take her by the wrist until we each order. It feels like I'm the owner and she's my dog, I'm keeping her on a tight leash to ensure she doesn't run away. It's pretty surreal if you think about it.

We order, for me a black coffee and for her a vanilla latte. I'm sniffing a vanilla pattern among her.

"Hey, I want you to meet some people." I tell her, eyeing a familiar group of 'friends' in the back corner of the café.

I lead Isabelle to the booth, myself in the front of course until I'm standing directly next to Maia, Jordan, and Simon.

Seeing them laughing and talking, without me, sending a shiver of regret down my spine. I use to be sitting right next to them, only a few months ago, laughing at the same ignorant joke from Simon.

And now I'm on the other side of the glass, looking in. A part of wishing I could still be there with them and the other part of me, screaming, telling myself it's better for them. That it's better for me this way.

They all turn towards me, their faces a mask of surprised and…. worry? Unhappiness? I can't tell.

But as quickly as they looked at me, they all slide their eyes over to Isabelle. Why am I surprised?

"Clary, how are you?" Maia is the first one to break the tension. I can tell I'm not the only one who feels the dead weight of the air between all of us.

"I'm fine," I flick my eyes over to Isabelle, who looks a little awkward, not knowing these people, "I wanted to introduce to you to my…friend…Isabelle." I step back so Isabelle can be fully in the picture. "She just moved across the street from me into the old Victorian house." Knowing they all understood exactly what I'm inferring too. "She'll be in our grade this year."

Isabelle shines them one of her award winning smiles, "It's so nice to meet you all."

Maia returns her smile, "Likewise, I'm Maia." She nudges Jordan, "This is my boyfriend Jordan." He gives her a small wave; let's just say Jordan isn't the friendliest guy on the planet.

Then we all turn towards Simon. Simon. My heart sinks, at just the thought of his name. "Simon." He says shortly, his face his bright red, almost like he's flushed. And he's picking at his coffee cup, trying to not look at Isabelle.

Am I missing something?

"Isabelle, Clary, do you want to stay for a few? We can catch up and get to know each other." Maia says, why does she have to be so god damn nice?

I'm about to decline when Isabelle is already sliding into the booth next to Simon, saying how we'll love too.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes and squish into the booth with Isabelle.

The first few minutes is probably the most uncomfortable experience of my life.

Simon, who I swear was gay for the first 12 years of my life, is staring at Isabelle with an open mouth like he's in some sort of trance. I can even see some drool falling out of his mouth, it's pretty pathetic.

While Maia has her fake smile on her face trying to seem like we're all five peas in a pod. And Jordan is just, well, sitting there doing honestly nothing, just gazing out into space.

I really want to crawl into my cave, aka my bedroom, and pretend this never happened.

My stomach feels like its on fire, a strong rolling, burning sensation, and I'm not sure if it's from the nerves or because I didn't take my pills this morning.

Maybe I was wrong. I should have taken them.

I still remember the time, two years, when I didn't take my medication for four days. My classmates were driving me crazy, telling me I was the freak that took pills, that always passed out, that….

FLASHBACK

I kept my head low, even though I knew it wouldn't block out the whispers, the rumors, or the sensations.

My head spun, stars whirled in my vision, but I kept telling myself to stay strong and to stay awake.

Simon rubbed my shoulders gently, telling me comforting words softly, but they were blocked out by the screams and cruel whispers swirling around me.

'Why don't you just die already?'

'Maybe if you try harder, you'll pass out'

'I need some drugs, hit me up?'

Simon kept telling me to ignore them, they were just jealous.

Jealous, of what? I'm just the messed up art freak who needs to pop pills in her mouth twice a day in order to keep breathing. It's pathetic, I'm pathetic.

And then it was all too much.

I could hear the laughing and bickering of the others as my legs started to give out. I could feel my blood pressure starting to slow down and finally I could feel my heart beat slowing to a soft thump thump.

Apparently, I heard this afterwards, that I fell to the side. Which was why Simon was unable to catch me before I hit the cold, stone floor.

Usually when that happens, I would wake up a few minutes later. Even shorter than that.

But this time it was different.

It didn't wake up until two and half hours later.

They said it was because I hit my head on the way done.

And that I was lucky, and I that I should be relieved.

But I wasn't.

When I hit the ground and everything turned black.

It was the place where everything finally stopped.

And I was genuinely happy, that was what scared me the most.

"Clary?"

I jerk up, hitting my coffee mug, tilting the white cup, allowing the piping hot liquid to spill over the edge.

I curse silently under my breath as I reach over Isabelle to get a napkin to clean it up.

"You've always been clumsy," Maia adds with the right amount of sadness in her voice. She's reflecting on the old times, memories no one has the strength to uncover. "Here," she passes me a few more napkins.

I give her a soft thanks while using the brown cloth to absorb the dark liquid.

"So…" Isabelle begins, "How long have you've known each other?"

A few silent beats pass by without an answer, so I summon up the guts to reply, "Well I've known Simon since… well kindergarten? Yeah I believe so."

And I'm about to continue when Simon speaks, for the second time this entire day that I've been around, "Preschool." His voice is muffled into his coffee mug.

Preschool. I guess he's right. We go way back.

"Wow, you guys go way back." Isabelle takes my words out of my mouth.

"Yeah, and Maia moved him in 7th grade and Jordan in 9th." I finish, keeping the topic vague.

Isabelle nods and then I notice Maia's entire face lights up like a Christmas tree. "OH MY GOD! Do you remember that time…" and then she launches into the story when she first came to town and she was just a small, innocent farm chick who was obsessed with the color yellow.

I can see Jordan laughing with her and even Simon cracking a smile once or twice along the way.

And then it hits me.

This isn't how it should be.

I shouldn't be here with Isabelle trying to make peace with these people, who anyone person with common sense, could tell we're not friends anymore.

And then it's there again.

The feeling of having all your oxygen ripped out from under you. Simple as ripping the blankets from a bed.

I clutch my stomach, taking large gulps in and out.

In and out.

In and out.

Black stars sway into my vision, blocking my eyesight of the café.

It's happening again.

No, it's can't, I tell myself. Not here, not now.

I rest my head on the booth table, clenching my fists so intensely that my knuckles turn white.

"Clary? Clary? Are you okay?" a worried voice calls to me.

I shake my head viciously, no I'm not okay can't you see?

I wanted to scream that to them, to all of them. But that wouldn't change it, it wouldn't help anything.

A hand rests on my shoulder, while someone is still calling my name. But that's a daze now.

I get up and lean against the booth to keep from falling down.

"Um, I'm not feeling great, I ate bad fish last night. Maybe food poisoning." Lie. "Rain check Isabelle?" I tell her, and without waiting for a response, I stagger towards the door of the brewery.

To get away.

I hear Isabelle calling at me, something about needing a ride home, but I ignore her.

I can't take this.

I can't take any of this anymore.

And then I'm out of the brewery, don't ask me how.

And I'm walking, somewhere, somehow.

Don't know where, I don't honestly care.

Minutes pass by, maybe hours. I can't tell the difference.

I reach Nook's Alley, that what I call it. It's literally a tiny alcove in the middle of two stores. No one ever notices it. It's the perfect hiding spot.

Sometimes when I would get in huge fights with my mom, this is where I would hide.

To get away.

And now it all feels like a joke.

I slide down the wall of nook, burying my head into my hands.

Allowing my dreams to whisk me away.

Do you honestly believe those are dreams that are *quote on quote* whisking her away?

I don't know (haha I do) but tell me if you think they're dreams or not...

Review!

Tell me your thoughts~

I thought I would get more by now...so I want to heard what you think before I post again...

QOTD: Who do you ship most in TMI?

Me? I think you can tell by the story ;)