Shwayze-Buzzin
"For once in my life I can say that I am thoroughly, thoroughly impressed by someone else's fashion choice." Stasi grinned at me, lifting an eyebrow as I looked my body over in her full-length mirror.
"You like it?" I asked, tugging at the black fabric that clung tightly to my body. I'd bought the Loop Delilah bodycon dress on a whim at the mall in an intense and therapeutic bout of shopping, looking for any and everything that would draw as much attention as possible.
"I don't like it, I love it. I couldn't have picked a better one out for you."
"Really?" I asked, surprise littering my tone. Anastasia rarely gave fashion-taste props to anyone, let alone dished out a compliment that didn't have to do with something she'd picked out or designed.
"No," she smirked. "Nobody picks out better clothes than I do. But you were close tonight, Roberts. Very, very close. You'll look great as long as you give me free reign over that hair."
I sank into the chair at her vanity, allowing her to tug and pull at my strands as she pleased.
"Is Jamie going tonight?" She asked slyly, pulling out a curling iron. I clenched my jaw, grabbing a bottle of red nail polish from one of the drawers.
"Who cares?" I asked nonchalantly.
"Still mad at him?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Magnus called," Stasi met my eyes in the mirror for a moment. "I know what was said."
"What don't you know?" I asked, hoping to butter her up as I started in on my thumb. Stasi pursed her lips for a moment, curling iron in one hand as she moved into deep thought.
"Nothing, actually," she answered after a moment. "There's nothing I can't really figure out on my own. Did you kno-"
"No," I answered immediately, laughing. "Whatever it is, I probably don't know, and I honestly don't care."
"So feisty."
"I thought you'd be used to it by now."
"Oh I am," Stasi promised. "I almost like the new you better."
"I thought we agreed not to speak as though I were two different people."
"I hate to break it to you, but you kinda are," Stasi sectioned off the bottom half of my hair and tied the top half into a high bun on top of my head. "You'd be weirded out too if you were on our side of things."
"Forget the old Hazel," I ordered gently, working towards my index finger. "She's gone."
"You make it sound so cryptic."
"If that's what it takes to make you guys understand that I'm not what I used to be than so be it."
"Don't you ever get curious?" she asked, releasing a lock of hair from the iron. A large, thick curl bounced down my back.
"Sometimes, but then it starts giving me a headache and I get more pissed off than anything." I answered honestly. "Can we change the topic?"
"Fine," Stasi agreed. "If you're not going to be with Jamie at this party...who will you be with?"
"You know who I'll be with." I grumbled, trying not to smile. Stasi raised her eyebrows and tried to hide a smirk.
"Mr. Tall, blonde and handsome," she quipped. "Since when do you have a thing for guys with light hair?"
"I usually don't," I mused. "But with Cas...there's just..."
"Something about him?"
"Don't make fun of me."
"I'm not! This is what best friends are supposed to do, talk about boys."
"Ahuh. If that's the case, when am I getting an invitation to your and Darren's wedding?"
"Don't make me burn you, child."
"I'm just saying, you'd make a very interesting couple."
"So would you and Jamie but you forbade me from saying his name so I didn't want to bring up any wedding dress ideas."
"I hate you."
"You love me."
"I love this nail polish color." I stated dramatically, changing the subject.
"Hopefully Cas does too."
"Look at that, someone who doesn't want to punch me in the throat for liking him."
"It's not that the others want to punch you in the throat, it's just that they see what it does to Jamie. We're all in a pretty awkward place right now."
"I thought we were forbidden to speak that name."
"Right, right, sorry."
"Stasi?"
"What?"
"Whatever happened to Thomas?"
Stasi was very quiet. The iron sat motionless in her hand for a moment as she swallowed thickly as though she were trying not to cry.
"You remember him?" she choked.
"I remember a lot from Creto's school," I admitted. "If anything it feels like that's where I came from in the first place."
"He's spent a lot of time with Ms. Etta," she said gently, working on my hair again. "She thinks he was poisoned or brainwashed while we were there. Some kind of drug. He was barely even functioning when we brought him home."
"What do you mean?"
"He couldn't say his own name, I'm not sure he even remembered it."
"What did he remember?"
"Mine." she said softly. I met her eyes in the mirror again and gave her a small smile.
"At least you know he loves you."
"Even so," she cleared her throat. "What happened is what happened. I can't be with someone who isn't in control of themself regardless of whether it's their fault. Turn your head."
I obeyed, switching hands with the nail polish brush.
"You think maybe if he gets better..."
"I've been going to see him," she said quickly. "Mom and Dad weren't happy at ALL when they found out he was a werewolf, but I politely pointed out that they let a half-demon half-angel creature stay at the Institute without second thought and they backed off. No offense, by the way."
"None taken. Who's pack was he in?"
"Luke Garroway's. Same as your parents."
Stasi yelped as I snapped my head towards her, pushing the iron into the back of her hand.
"My parents?"
"Fuck," she whined, dropping the iron on the vanity and grabbing her stele. "I thought you knew that already?"
"I've never met Luke," I admitted, wincing apologetically as she drew an iratze against her burned knuckles. "I didn't know he was still around."
The door swung open and a tall black girl with crazy long legs and big lips walked in. I felt myself staring at her, unable to pull my eyes away as I took in her short, choppy, black bangs and brown eyes. There was a numbness in the pit of my stomach that was growing by the second, and the room began swaying quicker than it ever had before.
"Nita?" I breathed, clamping a hand over my mouth.
"Speaking of Luke." Stasi murmured. The black girl knit her eyebrows at me, Stasi calling out as I bolted for the bathroom, heaving my lunch into the sink.
Both girls followed me with concerned faces, Stasi quietly thanking the Angels that I hadn't barfed on her shoes.
"You couldn't have made it to the toilet?" she whined, watching as I turned on the faucet and washed out the basin. I shook my head, leaning against the counter.
"Who's Nita?" The black girl asked. I sucked in a deep breath, grabbing a towel and drying my mouth before snatching up my toothbrush.
"My friend from Creto's Institute," I mumbled, loading the brush with toothpaste. "She died."
Anastasia raised her eyebrows, studying the black girl with incredulous focus before her mouth popped open.
"Holy shit," she laughed. "You do look like her. I'm sorry Haze, if I had known I would've kept the door locked or something."
"Does this girl have a problem with werewolves?" The girl asked, crossing her arms. I shot her a look.
"No, not at all," Stasi intervened. "You just look a lot like someone she lost. It's a really complicated situation, okay? Brings up a lot of bad memories."
"Well I'm sorry to hear that," the girl shrugged. "But it's not my fault or my problem."
"Do you wanna get hit?" I growled, my words muffled by the toothbrush. The girl raised her eyebrows and grinned in surprise.
"I should've known to keep you two away from each other anyways," Stasi grumbled, moving back to the vanity as I spit in the sink and washed out my mouth. "Haze this is Nihada, she's part of Luke's pack."
"We were just talking about him." I murmured, brushing past the girl and sitting back in front of the vanity. Nihada sat on the edge of Stasi's bed and tucked her hands under her butt.
"Good things, I hope," she said easily. "I just wanted to know if you had any clothes I could borrow."
"You're going to the party?" Stasi asked, working on my hair again.
"Not your lame little highschool gig," Nihada rolled her eyes, my irritation growing with each word of hers. "I'm twenty-two, I'm too old for that. Most of us are going to Glimmer."
"You can borrow whatever you want," Stasi agreed, waving the iron at her closet. "As long as you get Luke to talk to Hazel."
"Little Ms. Sunshine over here?"
"You're about to lose another lightbulb, Stasi." I warned, shooting Nihada a look. She averted her eyes quickly.
"Her name is Hazel, and Luke will want to talk to her after he hears her name anyways, trust me."
"Is this the one we went to Idris looking for?"
"Looking for?" I asked, Stasi tugging at a new section of my hair. Nihada rolled onto her stomach.
"Yeah, like six months ago? That Jamie kid got a whole group of us to go after you."
"Jamie?"
"Tall, mopey, never brushes his hair."
"I know what he looks like," I snapped. "And his hair is fine. I'm asking about the situation."
"You went missing and he fell into some sort of hero complex or something-"
"And?"
"And he took a group of us to Idris? Of course, it kinda killed the mood when they enchanted a dead body to look like you and ruined all hope of your salvation-"
"This a little more information than she asked for." Stasi interjected quickly. Nihada rolled her eyes and slipped off the bed, disappearing into the closet.
I watched myself in the mirror for the next few minutes, Stasi fiddling with my hair until finally, somehow, it turned into something out of a magazine. My long dark hair cascaded down my back in thick, wide curls, parted on the left side and pinned back behind that ear with silver sparkling pins.
"Thank you." I murmured, slipping on my black heels.
Stasi led us out into the hallway, several of the students doing double-takes when they saw us. She grinned to herself, and I didn't blame her. Whether the attention was good or bad, it was nice to be watched.
"You are definitely not wearing that." Simon ordered, standing in front of Stasi so that she couldn't move. I shuffled to the side awkwardly, trying to save myself from a similar scolding.
"Daddy, come onnnnnnn!" Stasi whined. "Look you can barely see my bellybutton and I-"
"Since when did you get that pierced?" Simon cried, his eyes wide. "When did I ever say you could get that pierced?!"
"Well Hazel has one and I-"
"Hazel is not my daughter!" Simon cried. There was an awkward silence in the hallway, Darren and Aaron appearing at the wrong time in the conversation, their faces forlorn. Stasi shot Simon a look, his mouth tightening into a thin line.
"Hazel, I-"
"It's fine," I said quickly. "It's true."
"I love you every bit as much as I love Anastasia, I was just making a point-"
"Don't try to make it better," I answered softly, giving a small smile. "You're not my Dad. You're not obligated to act like it."
"No, but I choose to." he answered, catching me off guard. I rolled my eyes.
"Daddy, if Hazel can wear that, I can wear this."
"That is a T-Shirt."
"It's a dress," Isabelle interjected, breezing into the hall and winking at me. "She looks great."
"She looks like a hooker." Simon pouted.
"Maybe," Darren agreed. "But a high-end hooker, for politicians or athletes." Simon shot him a look, Darren shrinking awkwardly into the shadows.
"And you," Simon turned his attention on me. "It's only sixty degrees out. You're going to freeze."
"Simon I am the LAST person to get cold. Always."
"Okay, so it was a terrible excuse to make you change," Simon retorted. "But that doesn't change the fact that you look-"
"Beautiful." Jamie stood at the head of the hallway in his Shadowhunter gear, his voice carrying softly towards us. A lump formed in my throat, heat washing over me as I looked bashfully down at my feet. I was never one to be shy.
"Where are you going?" Isabelle asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You know me," Jamie said hoarsely, shrugging. "All work no play."
"Work? Jamie we work every day, don't you know how to have fun?"
"Nah," he tried laughing, breezing past us. "You don't become the Greatest by having fun."
"Can't you just forget about that for one night?" Heaven asked, coming up behind him. "If I'm not gonna be with you-"
"I'm just going to see Magnus," Jamie lied. Isabelle and Simon nodded, completely unaware of his deception as everyone started pushing through the front door of the Institute and out into the night. Aaron's Jeep roared to life somewhere in the garage. "I'll be back before you know it."
I followed the others down the corridor, my heart thudding lightly at the sensation that had washed over me as Jamie passed. I looked over my shoulder, watching him go as I made my way towards Aaron's car. I climbed into the passenger seat, the feel of Jamie's fingers brushing against mine as he'd walked past still lingering against the back of my hand.