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I don't own the Mortal Instruments characters, just the plot of this fanfic!
Chapter Two
"You look horrible," Simon said suddenly, scrutinizing my face.
"Why thank you," I said sarcastically, turning back to my luggage.
"No, seriously Clarissa—"
"Clary," I corrected automatically.
"Seriously Clary, your lip looks red and your cheek is turning purple. Was the plane ride that bumpy?"
"Oh!" I quickly turned away from him and mouthed curse words at the wall. He saw the remnants of Sebastian's beating. It must have become more prominent over the flight. Dammit dammit dammit! "It's nothing." I assured him.
"It doesn't look like nothing." Simon pressed. God dammit, Simon! I don't want to be mean to you. I just met you!
"Really, it's okay. I just… bruise easily. Pale skin and all," I laughed a little, hoping he would join in. He didn't.
"I know what beatings look like, Clary. Do you know how many pictures Jordan has had to look through that I had the misfortune to stumble across? It was gruesome." He said matter-of-factly.
I turned around slightly and looked at him through my bangs. Have I lost the war? Not yet. Deny, deny, deny. This is a fresh start. I don't want people feeling sorry for me.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I laughed slightly, inching past him to my en-suite bathroom. It was tiny and has a corner shower, a toilet, and a pedestal sink. There was a cabinet on top of the sink that had a mirror. When I opened it, it was empty.
"We thought that with you being a girl and all that you would be most comfortable with your own bathroom." Simon appeared at the doorway, sounding defeated.
"Thank you," I looked over my shoulder at him and he nods his head respectfully.
Simon is about to open his mouth and say something when a call comes from the main room. "Honey, I'm home!" a man called in a high pitched girly voice. I laugh a little and Simon rolls his eyes. He gestures for me to come out with him, so I do.
"Hey Jordan, we've got a roommate," Simon said, presenting me to very handsome man, probably around the same age Simon was. He had what looked like another language tattooed on his muscular arms.
"Hey, Clarissa, right? You've had your eye on this place for a while haven't you? We reserved it just for you," he said with no hint of embarrassment from his earlier escapade.
"Clary," Simon and I corrected at the same time. I looked over at him and smiled. He was learning.
"Okay then, Clary." Jordan turns to Simon. "Have you offered our new roommate a beverage?"
Simon immediately turns to me and asks if I want anything. "No thanks, I just want to sleep." I turn to leave, but think of something to say. "But first," I said while turning back to them. Jordan and Simon both freeze. "Nobody touches my sketchbook. Or my art supplies once they get here." I add quickly.
"Okay. Two can play this game. Nobody touches my computers." Simon motioned into his opened room. I look through his door, just enough to make out a cocoon of computers stretching around a beat-up computer chair. There are indentations on the plastic sheet beneath it, indicating that he must spend a lot of time in there. And it would make sense if he does. I mean, it's his job, right?
"Okay, fine. If I can't touch your sketchpad, or your computers, then you guys can't touch my gun. Ha ha." Jordan smirks and motions to his holster, which sure enough has a nice looking gun sitting there. I don't feel any desire to use it as of right now, but it might come in handy one day…
"Fine by me. I don't feel like going to jail anytime soon." Simon puts his hands up as if in surrender and backs away into his nerd cave.
"Goodnight," I said to Jordan before turning back around.
"Night." He replied.
Could it be possible that the sun shone brighter in New York than in London? You would think that it would be drowned out, with the smog and everything, but the sun poked through the low hanging clouds this morning, practically begging for me to draw it. Thank God I had at least packed my sketchbook. My other paints and canvasses should be arriving soon. I gave my parents the address before I left, so it should be on its way.
I quickly got dressed and patted on concealer and foundation to cover up the growing bruise and my black eye. I didn't want to miss the perfect light that the sun was emitting. In 30 minutes, tops, it would be gone.
I scribbled a note down saying: I've got out to draw in the park. Should be back soon. If you need anything, here's my cell number. I scribbled out the number, stuffed my sketchbook into my purse, grabbed my – rather shitty – coloured pencils (my good ones were being sent), and ran out the door.
I arrived at Central Park in 10 minutes. It was a breathless journey, but I conquered it. I collapsed on the benches and propped my sketchpad against my crossed leg.
Pink here, blue there, orange here, a little yellow there, fill in the white spaces, blend it with a finger, blow on it to get rid of pencil lead, and voila! a New York sunrise was captured on paper. I sat there for a moment, sitting in the glow of the retreating orange light that was given off only in sunrises and sunsets. I must have been in here for at least 20 minutes. Maybe even 30.
BBBRRRZZZTTT BBRRZZTTT. I fumbled in my jacket pocket for my phone to see that I had one new message.
Wanna meet Izzy and me at Taki's for breakfast? Izzy's craving grease. –Simon
I set that number as Simon's contact before replying with Sure. Address?
He gave it to me and off I went.
"Hi," Simon greeted as I slid into the booth with him. Across from him was a stunning woman with striking features. Her dark hair was pulled up into a slick straight ponytail and her eyes were a mud colour. She was beautiful. I thought for a split second why she would be dating Simon, but I quickly shook it off. "This is Isabelle," He introduced.
"Hi. It's nice to meet you," I shook her hand, which was adorned with multiple rings.
"You too," she said, sitting back against the booth with a smile.
Just then, a blonde waitress came up to our table, popped her bubble gum, and asked, "What can I get for you?" Her name tag said Kaelie.
"I'll have a hamburger with fries," Izzy said immediately. The waitress gave her a 'you really want a hamburger at 8 o'clock in the morning?' look but still wrote down her order. Izzy seemed to take no notice.
"I'll have the coconut pancakes," he said to Kaelie, then turning to me, he said, "they're really good. You should try them."
And so I ordered the coconut pancakes too, plus an apple juice. Kaelie took our menus away and left us in a semi-awkward silence.
"So you're new here, right Clary?" Isabelle asked after a while.
"Yeah," I answered.
"Where are you from?" she asked again.
"London, England."
"Shouldn't you have a British accent then?" Simon interrupted.
"We travelled a lot," I gave as an explanation. Simon nodded in understanding.
Isabelle gave Simon a sideways glance, annoyed at being cut off. "Anyways, would you consider yourself… oh, I don't know… lonely?"
"Lonely?" I gave her a look that hopefully asked if she was insane.
"Well, because I have a brother, Jace. And you guys would look cute together. Do you want to go on a double date with us?"
I continued to stare at her as Simon became more aware at what was happening. "I don't really think that Clary would want—"
"Oh pish posh," Izzy said with a wave of her hand, cutting Simon off. "You would love to go on a date with Jace, wouldn't you?" She bombarded me with an intense stare. Um, I don't really have that much experience with guys, I wanted to tell her. But that wasn't true. I had plenty of experience, just bad experience. I didn't want to be sucked into a mindless relationship once again.
I opened my mouth to tell her just that when Kaelie decided that right then was the opportune moment for her to give us our food. "Here you go," she said in a fake nice voice and walked off.
Simon poured syrup on his pancakes and handed it to me.
"Perfect then," Isabelle said suddenly. "It's a date."
My pancakes were swimming in a pool of syrup after that.
