Hey Guys! Thanks so much for staying with me! Sorry about taking so long to update! Writer's block is a BITCH! Anyways, this one is a little bit longer than usual (to make up for the wait) and I actually had to cut bits out so it wouldn't be too long-so I guess that means more chapters to write and less time to write them! Who doesn't love that?! This should be the last of the "introduction" chapters, after this it's plot, camera, ACTION! (Get pumped!)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, ya know, except for my ideas and junk :)
Posses and Patches
JACE
30 New Messages.
"You're joking, right?" I muttered aloud as I glared down at my tiny phone screen. That would explain why my phone nearly rattled of my dresser last night, and not to mention my fabulously pissy mood. You don't mess with Jace Wayland while he's sleeping—electronically or otherwise. That's a sure way to get on my hit list, and yes, I have one.
I moaned and squeezed my eyes shut again. Can we just pretend it's not Monday and go back to thinking that the collaborative show isn't tomorrow? I really liked my bed right now and school didn't sound like the best alternative. I pried my eyes open stared at that clock for a solid 20 minutes, hoping desperately that the 5:27 would morph back into a 5:26. It never did.
Fuck me. It really is Monday.
Giving up, I yanked my phone off my charger, rolled deeper into my cocoon of covers, and began to click through my multitude of messages. What a 80% of the messages were from the clingy, powder-faced, wannabe girls at school that fought for my attention. Of course—it happened every single day.
"Jaaacey!"
"Why don't we ever talk?! We should totes talk moree"
"Don't you remember what we had last summer? At Jen's party…?"
"I love you so much, Jace!"
"OMG! We should like, hang out!"
"You're so sexy Wayland. Let's be fuck buddies."
Stop. No.
No. No. No. No. No. All deleted without a second glance.
Moving on….
Another 18%—we're getting technical now—were from Josh and were all about Izzy, as expected.
"Oh god Jace, I'm dying"
"DYING"
"Izzy hasn't texted me in TWO. WHOLE. DAYS."
"What do you mean she doesn't like me?! Tell me it's BS!"
"And we haven't hooked up in like, a week. Jace, this is serious."
Ugh. This is too much! Josh needs to pipe the fuck down.
I was rapid-fire deleting now. It was habitual—a lot of the same. One from Jackie. Two from Megan. Two from Christina. One from Sydney. Eight from Josh. Three from Audrey. One from Clary.
One from Clary?
My finger stopped short over the delete button and hovered over to the open button instead.
"I finished it."
Suddenly, there was a smile on my face.
Now, to anyone else this random message from a random girl would've meant absolutely nothing. But to me it meant a heart-stopping, blood freezing, fear inducing spaz attack. I can't believe she actually told me.
I messaged her back immediately—and I didn't care if it was 5 a.m. anymore. I needed to see it. I needed to see her.
"Awesome, haha! Coffee date? Today after school? I want to hear it."
Now came the unbearable part where you have to go on with life while you wait for them to reply. It could be hours before then! Days! Weeks! Months even! What the hell was I supposed to do before—?
Bzzzz. My phone tolled. 1 New Message.
"Sure, Wayland. See you then."
What? Instant reply? Really?
I like that. Now this is how you start off a Monday morning.
XXX
ISABELLE
I'm not quite sure how I ended up here.
It's so rare that I do this. Two years ago I wouldn't have given it a second thought. But now…everyone has a legitimate reason to judge me. Hate me even—and that becomes a major problem when you're trying to sit with a new posse at lunch. And here I was, standing in front of a group of people I barely knew, hoping that they've never heard the gossip. Hoping they don't assume. Hoping they don't think of me as "Isabelle Lightwood: School Slut". To everyone else I'm the epitome of confidence. Although in reality, my insides began to churn.
Remind me again why I agreed to do this?
"Connor, Alex, Jonsey, you three know Isabelle." Simon introduced and pointed to me. "Well she's awesome and will be sitting with us from now on."
Oh right, Simon dragged me into this.
I channeled my irritation into a pleasant smile. "Hello!" I greeted in a sing-song voice and took a seat next to Simon, the only person even remotely familiar, while the other three just caught my eye and shouted a nice, welcoming, "Hey, Isabelle!"
That caught me way off guard. I was expecting some whispers, maybe a stare or two—which is what's supposed to happen when you have a reputation like I do—but instead it was the exact opposite. The girls, Alex and Jonsey exchanged wide eyed, excited glances between each other at the sight of me. While the guy, Connor, was too busy to look up from his drawing pad. A typical art kid.
Almost instantly they shot into introductions.
Alex shoved a pale, freckled, eager hand forward. Well somebody's excited. "Hi! I'm Alex! Nice to meet you!"
"Same!" I said with equal verve.
"A little about me," she continued, "Junior. Dance cluster. Rep 2 with my best friend, Jonsey." She flicked a thumb to the girl next to her that was smoothing out her dark hair.
"Hey girl hey!" She greeted excitedly.
"Hey! Love the hair by the way."
"Thank you! It's very Anne Hathaway-esque, Fantine, don't you think? Don't even get me started about Les Mis!" She gushed. "And the movie comes out on Christmas?! My little heart can barely handle it!"
"Calm down, Jonsey." Connor nagged. "Just keep singing your songs and you'll be fine." He placed a hand on Jonsey's shoulder, attempting to keep her from an obsessive breakdown, when he glanced sideways at me. "I'm Connor by the way. I'm not that interesting. You're very pretty, Isabelle."
"Yeah!" Alex and Jonsey shouted. "Gorgeous!" And I swear I heard Simon mutter something like "Beautiful."
Well, that was random.
I could instantly feel the blush that quickly painted my cheeks. "Oh, um. Thank you!" I stammered shyly.
"So you agree?" Connor asked intently.
"What?"
"You think you're really pretty?"
"Oh God." Simon mumbled into his hands. "Don't go starting this again."
"You know it's too late for that, Simon." Alex declared. "Once one person quotes Mean Girls, everyone has to quote Mean Girls!"
"And if it you don't like it then…" Jonsey glared. "YOU CAN'T SIT WITH US!"
This sent everyone into tears of laughter and already I felt at home. I had warmed up to them in no time at all. I can't quite explain how the first 10 minutes at Simon's table felt, but it's like they've already accepted me as a part of their group, and that was a really nice feeling. Say what you want about the flawless, fearless Isabelle Lightwood, but not everyone actually likes me. Rejection still hurts, I just don't show it.
"So Isabelle, tell us a little more about yourself!" Jonsey asked after a moment and quickly everyone else agreed.
My mouth was glued shut from instinct, but when I saw their eager faces my resolve melted instantly.
Not everyone wants to screw you over, Isabelle.
When I spoke I tried sound as friendly and open as possible. I flashed them a dazzling smile, hoping to distract them from the lackluster summary that I'm about to spew. And by the light in their eyes, I knew I had this in the bag.
"Well, I'm Isabelle Lightwood but my friends call me Izzy. I'm a senior in the dance cluster, and I'm in the collaborative show with Simon!"
"Oh yeah! I heard about that!" Alex blurted. Her grey eyes lit up with excitement along with Jonsey's as they obsessed over the dancers in Rep 1. Little did they know how much of a pain in the ass they were to the people actually on the company….
"Ohhh." Conner sighed. "Is this the girl you were talking about, Simon? She's the one that's in your piece that you—?"
"Shut up man!" Simon growled behind clenched teeth as the girls tried hard to stifle their giggling. He shot them an irritated look, attempting to shut them up, but that only made them giggle more.
"I feel extremely out of the loop here."
"It's okay, Izzy. Just forget it. Continue!" Simon stuttered with clipped words.
Okay…
"Um, I'm really into Chemistry and I want to move to New York. I'm kind of obsessed with music, and if you buy me tea I'll love you forever…oh, and you probably know my brother, Jace. He's a dick, ladies, stay away from him." I shot a playful, warning look to the entire table, which was their que to start laughing hysterically.
Alright, I'm done. No more!
"Um, you forgot to say that you can sing, Izzy."
Shut up, Simon!
"No way, really?!" The girls cried.
"Apparently."
"I can too!" Jonsey shrieked, nearly jumping across the table in her elated frenzy. "I cross cluster! I'm in vocal tech!"
"I cross cluster too, but I do percussion! Alex interjected. "In case you didn't know," She added "I'm a rocker at heart." So that would explain her very edgy, short clipped, red hair…but her floral t-shirt made her outer punk rock appearance void.
I'll take her word for it. The more I stared at her, the more I believed it to be true.
"So Connor, you're a senior this year, right?" I questioned while sipping on my vitamin water.
"Oh…yeah." He answered quietly. "Along with you and Simon."
"But we all know you're a five year old at heart, Connor." Jonsey stated, earning a slow glare from Connor. "At least my celebrity crush isn't twice my age!"
"Are we judging, Connor? Really judging?! There is no judgment at this table! We've been over this!"
Wait a second. No judgment? Are they serious?
Up until now it was impossible for me to walk by without something thinking that I'm the sleaziest girl in school. Knowing now that I've found a group of people that won't judge me for my…unfortunate title…is something worth smiling about.
Yeah, I'll be sitting here again tomorrow. I never knew what I was missing!
Simon, who had stayed quiet through most of lunch, nudged me on the shoulder. "What are you smiling about, Lightwood?"
"Nothing important really," I sighed. "I'm just glad everything worked out today."
"So…tomorrow?" He murmured, too low for anyone else to hear over Jonsey and Connor's bickering.
"I'll be here."
His smile reappeared just as the bell rang and dismissed everyone to class. Alex, Jonsey and I were headed off to dance. Simon and Conner were headed who knows were. I said my goodbyes and started walking away when Simon caught my arm.
"Hey, see you at rehearsal tonight. Text me later!" He added before he let me go.
Next to me, Alex and Jonsey snickered.
XXX
JACE
I saw her before she saw me, which in one way is super cute…but can also come off as a little stalkerish. Not that I meant it in a creepy way—I never do. Well…okay I take it back. Maybe that one time it was a little creepy. But I had to do it! If I hadn't snuck into writing club I wouldn't be going on this date tonight!
A nervous jolt shot through my body. What am I doing?! I don't know how to do this! I don't know how to be Clary's guy! I've got to be cool, but not too cool. Nice, but not too obvious. How does Jace Wayland win over a girl when he can't be Jace Wayland?
Mindfuck! Izzy what have you done to me?
I never thought I would live to see the day I got nervous over a girl. She must know that I'm struggling with this bet she's got pinned over my head. It was a genius move though—I'll give her props for that. As much as I hate to admit it, I know this will be a challenge. And she knows it too.
Even though my ongoing spaz attack was devouring my insides, I couldn't let it show. I stood coolly at my normal spot by the Pegasus and waited for Clary to notice me. I leaned against the wall—my wall—out of the way, but not entirely invisible. I got a couple glances, a few whispers. I winked at a group of freshman girls, which made them jump and squeal—much to my amusement. Nobody approached me but I'm pretty sure everyone knew I was there.
Except for maybe Clary. She was oblivious.
She shot out of the shade like a dart and plunged into the sunlight, frantically searching but not finding. Her backpack was slung sloppily over her shoulder and her hair was in a fraying knot on the top of her head that looked seconds from toppling over. Paint marked her from the elbow down like a trail leading to her hands, one guarding her backpack's strap and the other clutching her art portfolio for dear life. She was a freaked out mess, but she was the only one that mattered to me. She always has been. People just never noticed.
With her back to me, she took a minute to compose herself. She adjusted her bag, redid her hair into the same messy knot, took one look at her arms and said "fuck it'", and then finally she scanned the courtyard and saw me.
Here we go.
"Alright," She sighed once she was next to me. "Let's go." No smile, no nothing. She cut right to the chase.
"Well hello to you too, little red."
"Little red?!" She squealed as we began walking away from campus. Already with the nicknames and ginger jokes, Jace?"
"What? Would you prefer 'orphan Annie'? Or maybe 'Coppertone'? You can decide."
"Haha. Very funny, Wayland." She grumbled flatly.
"So is it true that you have no soul?"
"So is it true that you're an ass?" She retorted.
"I have an ass." I responded with a wink. Her cheeks got a little pinker. "A pretty nice one too. You can look, but don't touch—the other girls will get jealous."
"Oh, dear Jesus why am I doing this?"
"Because you think I'm completely irresistible." I whispered seductively into her ear. "And you're getting free coffee."
She glared at me through her lashes. "For the coffee and nothing else."
"We'll see about that!" I smirked.
So much for nice!
Oh, fuck it. I'm doing this my way. I'll get her heart one way or another…I only have until Christmas break….
"Oh! Is Isabelle coming?" Clary blurted.
"Oh. Um, no she's hanging out with Sim—er—some friends before rehearsal."
"Oh, bummer! I hope she has fun. Tell her I said good luck!"
Whew. Dodged the bullet there! I completely forgot that Simon and Clary weren't on speaking terms anymore. That would be extremely acca-awkward if I brought that up right after they split, especially now that Simon's getting all cute with Izzy.
Hold up. Hold up, hold up, hold up!
They just split. He's going after Izzy. He wouldn't…would he?
Not with Isabelle…hell no!
I'll be chatting with him later. For now I'll let it go.
"Wait. Do you and Isabelle know each other?" I wondered aloud.
"Yeah! We have a few classes together and we've been friends since freshman year. I guess you can say we know each other!" She playfully punched my side. "Why? Does that bother you? Don't tell me you're the overprotective type!"
"No! No, of course not!" I insisted. It's just that she's practically my sister. I'm surprised I never noticed."
"You say 'practically' like she isn't."
"Because she's not." I explained. "We don't even have the same last name."
"But you live together, right? And you call each other 'brother' and 'sister' so…?"
"So it means we're not related!" I spat, causing Clary to jump. Calm it down, Wayland! You'll scare her off like that! I took a deep breath and tried again. "We're close like a brother and sister, and it's a hell of a lot easier than explaining the whole thing."
"What is the whole thing?"
I met her eyes. They were surprisingly green in the sunlight today. "That's another story, Clary."
Silence.
The school was far behind us now. The frantic roar that was the student population at 4:05 had finally dimmed down because of the distance. Now the only thing that made a sound were the rustle and snaps of leaves and branches as we kept walking toward our destination. We crossed the freeway into uptown and were instantly surrounded by fancy apartment complexes and work buildings. There were a few groups of students trailing along behind us that kept going to the restaurants that filled the area after we peeled off. 2nd date. Pei Wei. I decided. That is, if I can make it through this one.
This coffee shop I wanted to go to was in an awkward place. It was too close to drive to, yet not considered a short walk either. It was in an old house in a neighborhood maybe four blocks away from Ben B. It blended in so well; I would've missed it the first time if I wasn't paying attention. But once I walked in and saw they had free Wi-Fi and cheap prices, I was sold. Nobody knows about it either—
I've never seen anyone from school there and Clary's the first person that I've ever taken.
"Jace, where are we?" Clary worried. "I don't think there's a Starbucks in this neighborhood."
"There's not. Starbucks is in the opposite direction, we're going someplace different."
"Oh. Never mind then."
"I thought visuals were supposed to be all observant and whatnot." I huffed under my breath.
"I am! Art kids are really observant!" She roared. Temper, temper! I always knew the redheads were feisty! "I'm just observant of different things." She reasoned. "I don't always see the obvious when I'm discovering the hidden."
I took a moment and let that sink in. "Wow…that was deep."
"I'm a deep person."
"Really, Clary?"
"Really! Don't test me like that, Jace."
"Well, I can't take you seriously when you have paint on your nose like that!
Instantly her face turned crimson red as her hands shot up to hide her face, which only drew attention to her paint stained arms. I grinned, but of course she would never see.
"Hey, hey, hey!" I grabbed her hand and pulled it off her cheek. "Paint on your face really doesn't mean anything!"
"But you just said—!"
"Forget what I said! I think it's cute!"
She flushed again, even deeper this time. "Fine! Fine. Whatever, Jace!"
"Oh, now you're mad at me?"
"Yes! No. I don't know! I just didn't want to act stupid around you."
"Well you're doing a fine job." I assured as we approached the old house. I stepped up the creaky wooden stairs before her, holding the door open while getting a strong whiff of fresh coffee beans. "I've never thought such a thing about you, Clary."
She smiled slightly and glided into the shop. "Thanks, Jace."
I let the door swing shut behind me and rushed to meet her at the counter. Not that it mattered since Clary was taking her time observing the place. The walls were painted a pale spring green, illuminated by the light streaming in through the widows that covered every wall. There were couches, love seats, tables, chairs, separate rooms with more couches and chairs and candles, the whole shebang—this shop just screamed posh. Everyone here had their posh laptops out and their posh iPads and were sipping on their posh lattes staring through their posh reading glasses and scrolling through their posh literature. I couldn't help but think that they're judging me every time I walk in. All I've ever done in this place was order coffee and leave. Finally I'll be able to sit down and do something profound. Like read poetry.
Thank you, Clary.
"I'll take a caramel macchiato and for her…" I looked over at Clary. "You seem like a cider kind of girl."
"Only in the winter. I'll take a green tea latte."
Damn. That's even more posh than cider. Clary fits in better than I do!
I paid for the both of us—just like I promised—and once we had our drinks we made our way to an empty couch. Or…love seat rather. This could get really awkward really fast.
Clary didn't seem to mind. She sat down before I did and instantly started rummaging through her backpack for her poem.
"What happened to 'free coffee and nothing else' Coppertone?"
"I changed my mind, sue me!" I saw her sigh over her things as she whipped out a disheveled blue spiral. "Keep in mind this is my first poem. And it sucks, so I'm sorry in advance." She flipped to the page and handed it to me. "I'm not going to read it out loud either, but you wanted to see it so there you go."
I chuckled lightly and took a sip from my coffee. "So I guess if you won't read it out loud I will."
And so I began:
A Patch of Neon
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
So we might be crazy, but we're a hell of a time
We do not conform to society's line
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
It doesn't matter our place in the web
We be what we are
We are what we be
An animal, a star, a rocker, a whore
What does it matter, the approval of society?
Approval is our own
We are the freak, the outcast, the slut, the genius
The obsessive, the self-harm, the gay, the punk, the rocker
The true
We are who we are
We are NOT you.
Slowly, gradually, people started clapping. I swear the look on Clary's face was priceless. "It looks like you're a hit." I laughed and looked around with her. Every single posh person in the shop was clapping, even the cashier. We were all smiling, but just Clary looked straight stunned. I nudged her in the shoulder while she stared at her poem in disbelief. "You okay, Fray?"
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." She breathed. "Everyone else liked it. Did you?"
"Of course I did. I loved it when it was unfinished, I love it now, and I'll love the next one you share—you're talented Clary Fray. Like a girl version of Ed Sheeran!"
"What?! No way! How do you know Ed?"
"I live with Isabelle, don't I?"
"Well that explains it!" She laughed. We both did for a while. We laughed and whined and talked about nothing and everything. People began to leave while we ordered more food and coffee. We were having a good time up until it was time to head back.
By time we reached the Pegasus again the sun was beginning to set over Dallas. The temperature had dropped significantly since the early afternoon and the lights of the city were just starting to pop on. I tried my hardest to keep the conversation going, but for some reason Clary got really quiet really fast. She was lively and chatty at the shop but as we neared the school she only grew more morose. I've done everything I could, at least I knew she was happy at some point, but unfortunately this is where this date had to end.
"Look, I had a really great time Clary…" I started, and she had the saddest look in her eyes.
"But you're just not into me like that? I get it Jace. You don't have to say it." She concluded. "Thanks for the coffee. I'll see you tomorrow."
Wait, what? That has never happened to me in my life.
"Clary!" I called after her. She was walking away fast, but I caught her by the wrist and pulled her closer towards me. Almost too close. Our bodies were pressed together, our faces were only inches apart, and I had to fight back the massive urge to kiss her right now. Just like I've had to for three years. But she didn't try to pull away. She stayed and looked up at me with those wide green eyes, too stunned to speak.
"Maybe I am." I breathed. "Maybe I'm into you like that." Surely she could feel my raging pulse right now, this is just embarrassing. "I'm really glad we got to hang out today, and we should do it again….Like on Friday."
"Friday? This Friday?"
"Yeah, come to my show. If not for me then for Isabelle."
She sighed and then nodded, eyes still locked on mine. "Yes, I'll be there."
"Okay." I smiled.
"Okay." She grinned.
We stayed like that for a long minute. Close and silent and still and oh so slowly I leaned in….
To kiss her on the cheek. Nothing too risqué on the first date. Not with this one.
"Goodnight, Clary." I said simply.
"Goodnight, Jace."
We separated and instantly I longed for her warmth. It almost hurt to see her walk away.
"Oh, Jace." She added and looked over her shoulder.
"Maybe I'm into you like that too."
XXX
I didn't get home until 10 that night, but the first thing on my mind, surprisingly, was not sleep.
I booted up my laptop and opened up a word document. Now I finally have something to write about for this stupid paper Izzy wants.
Damn bet.
On any other night this would've pissed me off a lot more, but how could I be upset when my date was a total success? And I've got another date on Friday?
I'm better at this than I thought!
Just then Izzy rattled on my door. "I hope you're writing your paper, Jace since your date went so well!"
"I am! Calm down!" I called back. "Wait, what are you doing down here? Why aren't you sleeping?"
"I'm catching up on American Horror Story!"
"It's 10 o'clock at night!"
"Like I give a fuck! You sure you don't want to watch?"
"Nope! I'll be there in a second!"
Quickly, I started to type.
Izzy, I hate your for making me write this. But if this is what I have to do to prove it, I'll do it. So here it goes.
You asked me why I like her—and this after a three year crush and one date—but you still want to know. So I'll tell you this.
I have no fucking idea. Clary Fray confuses the shit out of me.
But there's something about her, she's different. Call me crazy, but I like—no—love that about her.
And nothing is ever going to change my mind.
