A/N: I know, I know: I took a long time to update! But in my defense I've been very busy lately plus I've had a little trouble writing this story exactly as I want so I might be rewriting Chapter 3, but I'm not sure yet. Don't worry though, I'm definitely going to complete this story! I hope you like it!

Disclaimer: You know the usual, sad news. I don't own The Mortal Instruments.

Chapter 4:

Jace's POV:

"I want to suspend all three of you, and I ought," the principal started as soon as we were all cleaned up and sitting in his office in opposite corners of the room. "But because it's the first day of school, I'm not going to do that." Thank god. I would be in big trouble if I got suspended. With my parents, with coach- who was also Clary's coach. I glanced at her. As the principal confirmed no suspension, she relaxed a little. I could see it as her shoulders went slightly down.

"However, a punishment must be made," the principal declared. I rolled my eyes and groaned. "There a problem, Mr. Herondale?" the principal l asked, raising his eyebrows. I shook my head no and flashed him my famous charming smile. I saw Clary roll her eyes out of the corner of my eyes, and despite myself smiled. It was kind of funny how annoyed she got with me sometimes, though she had every right to feel that way. I'd been a douche. But it hadn't been my fault! If she would just listen-. No, Jace. It's over. She'd never listen to you anyways. And why should she? You deserve it. You deserve to lose the best that ever happened to you. Sometimes I hate how depressing I was. I tuned back into the conversation with the principal. Simon had been excused with no punishment, since this didn't really involve him,it involved Clary and I. That lucky guy. I don't want to be here.

The principal cleared his throat and looked at me. I snapped out of my daydreams and paid attention again.

"Since you both clearly like to daydream and not pay attention, " the principal said, a hint of annoyance forming in his words," you can both spend time with the biggest dream encourager the world has ever seen." Oh no, oh no, oh no...

"Mrs. Florence Ocua." The art teacher. Great. Just what I needed. A teacher who loves Clary and probably hates me. Story of my life. I sigh internally and steal a glance at Clary to see how she's taking it. She seemed happy, at ease even. Glad to know someone's happy.

"This will be everyday after school for a month. No complaints and it starts today after school. However, Mrs. Ocua has told me that most of the time she will be out, including today. Instructions will be on the board. Since she knows Clary, she said she might go easy on you guys today." Thank god. I'd have to thank Clary for this later, but somehow I know I never will.

"You are dismissed," the principal finishes, a serious tone hanging through the room. I stand up to get up and my chair creaks causing me to cringe. Clary flinches across the room and I want to shout I KNOW RIGHT?! Wait, what?! What am I even saying? I shake my head. Clary and I reach the door at the same time and we do that awkward dance of who goes through the door first. Clary finally gives in and goes out the door first. Suddenly I have the urge to go talk to her. Ask her what she thinks about detention, but I wimp out. You're a chicken Jace Herondale. A chicken. I mentally scold myself. What the heck?! What is happening to me?! Why do I care about what I say or do?! Since when has Clary ever made me nervous?!

I shake my head. That little redhead's going to cause me nothing but trouble, but somehow I can't shake the feeling that we were meant to meet again. I shrug it off. I can't let this go to my head. I have meets to win and things to do. I'm Jace Herondale, I've got this.

Clary's POV:

I walk into the art room after school, absolutely dreading this month. I'm never going to make it. That boy is going to be the death of me, especially with Mrs. Ocua never being here to keep things under control, but I suppose I understood. If kids were serving detention, I certainly wouldn't want to babysit them either. Especially when one of them is one of your favorite students. I would just trust them and go out to eat or something. I reach the room only to find nobody there. I breathe a sigh of relief. Jace isn't here yet.

"Hey, Clary, do you know where the cleaning cloths are?" Jace asks whirling out of the supply closet. I almost jump out of my skin in surprise. In hindsight he adds,"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." I roll my eyes. Idiot, I think in my head. I whirl around, expecting to see Jace with a smirk of satisfaction on his face. Instead, I see genuine concern. That's weird, I think to myself. I choose to ignore it. Making an obvious move to look past him and look at the board, Jace moves out of the way and turns to look at the board.

To Jace and Clary,

Please complete the following:

-Wipe the tables
-Fold and store away the art easels
-Put all paint bottles back into supply closet (IN RAINBOW ORDER)
-Dry off washed off paint brushes
-Wipe down the whiteboard

Sorry I couldn't be here, thanks for helping me out! :) I could practically hear Jace's eyes rolling, and for once I agree with him. I love helping Mrs. Ocua, but seriously? Thanks for helping me out? Like c'mon. Like we had a choice. I remember Jace's question about the cleaning cloths. I point over to the drawer underneath the glue buckets. He nods in understanding and heads over to the table. I look at the list again. Better start on the easels. Jace and I work for about and hour, almost in a trance. We say nothing to each other, we don't glare at each other. It's almost as if we're on good terms. But we're not. And I know that, but I can't help wishing. We work in sync, in rhythm with each other. As I fold the last art easel, Jace starts to dry off all the paintbrushes and I put the paint bottles back in the closet. Then I stare at the whiteboard. Who's going to wipe it down? Unsure, all of sudden, I grab a cleaning cloth off a stool. It's still wet with cleaning spray. Jace, however, doesn't seem to notice my unsure feelings at all. He walks over to the board and starts to wipe down the top of the board. He stops midway and looks at me questioningly, like aren't you going to help? I sigh and walk over.

Our sync never comes back. I'm trying to move swiftly under him as I attempt to clean the bottom of the board and he cleans the top since I'm obviously too short to clean the top. I press against the board in attempts not to touch him as I try to go to the other side of the board. I fail. I feel nervous all of a sudden, but he doesn't seem to notice my uncomfortable expression and red face. We finish shortly after. Jace offers to take my cleaning cloth and I let him put our cloths away as I glance at the clock. We still have half an hour of detention left. I groan. Might as well draw something, there is no track practice yet, Coach is still confirming teammates and meet plans. I walk over to my backpack and fish out my favorite drawing pencil and my drawing pad. I also grab a box of colored pencils that were right next to the glue buckets. I casually flop down on a stool across the room from the door. Jace returns after putting away the cleaning cloths and shuts the closet door silently behind him. He sits down across from me on a green stool like mine nonchalantly.

Jace grins, happy that today's finally over. He plucks an apple out of his backpack and offers me one. I turn it down, politely. I flip to a blank page and start to sketch. I let the pencil guide my fingers and I'm hardly noticing what I'm doing. Or what anyone's doing for that matter. Jace is crunching is apple and I don't even notice him watching me draw until he speaks.

"What is that?" he asks, coolly. I slam the cover shut of my drawing pad and I drop my pencil in surprise. Surprised, I look at him. The shock quickly turns into anger.

"Nobody's supposed to look at my drawings while they're works in progress," I say angrily. He shrugs and then frowns.

"Why not?" he asks not fazed by my sudden anger. I take a deep breath.

"Because, because-." I stop. Why don't I let people see my drawings? I have absolutely no idea. Jace catches me fumbling to form an answer and he smiles.

"Seems to me like you're pretty good," he says and looks down at his apple. "I don't know why you'd want to hide it from the world," he says softly in almost a whisper. I'm shocked and I don't know what to say. Do I thank him for the compliment? I shut my mouth and keep drawing, but I let the cover fall open. He looks up and smiles. And this time I'm paying attention. Jace is watching me the entire time I draw and his eyes never move off me or the paper.

A/N: Please don't kill me! I know I took a long time to update and I know I didn't upload another chapter with this one because I was taking so long to update. I'll make it up to you. I have BIG PLANS for the next chapter. There will be a LOT of Clace fluff, I promise. I'm having a really fun time right now writing the next chapter. IT'S SO CUTE I'M GONNA DIE! I'm thinking I'm going to introduce Jonathan, Luke, and Jocelyn in the 6th chapter, NOT the next one. Let me know if you liked Jace's POV and if you want to see if know what to do: review, review, review!