Jace's POV:

November 14-

It's already 7:45. Red will be here soon, and for the first time since we met, I feel dread instead of—manly—butterflies of excitement take up residence in my stomach. Pregnant. I can't believe she's pregnant. She said she's been trying for this for a long time, but why? What's the rush? She's only 23 and she's already engaged. That makes sense because, well, she's her. But why not just wait until she's married to that stupid fiance of hers? The same stupid fiance that got her pregnant. A wave of rage comes over me and I tighten my grip on the bar the same way I try to get a grip on myself. It's not like I really expected anything different. She doesn't even know I like her. It's not fair of me to be mad when she doesn't have all of her options listed out in front of her. But I'm still angry. Angry that she doesn't feel what I feel between us. Angry that now, even if I do tell her how I feel, she will always have this child—this connection to her fiance.

My thoughts, previously zooming by at lightning speed, come to a sudden halt when Red comes in the door. She looks effortlessly beautiful, as always. Bright scarlet hair in natural tangled waves, and wide emerald eyes unobscured by makeup. I look closely, trying to find any sign of her current state, but I can't. I don't even see that odd "glow" that people are always saying pregnant women have. In fact, she doesn't even look particularly happy. Maybe nervous… Well, I did snap at her last week when I found out. And then ignored her the rest of the night. Real smooth.

She sits in the seat at the end of the bar and I walk over slowly, wiping my hands on my jeans. I'm gonna tell her I'm sorry. Then I'm gonna see how her pregnancy is going. Then I'm gonna tell her that I like her and want her to break up with the father of her child… Yeah, that sounds good. "Hey Red," I start quietly.

She looks up suddenly, as if I startled her. "Hi Blondie… Umm," she starts, twisting her red hair nervously around her fingers. It's adorable. "Look, I'm sorry about last week." What? What is she sorry about? "Granted, I'm not entirely sure what I did, but whatever it is, I really am sorry."

"Red," I stop her unnecessary apologies. "You didn't do anything. I just, I was surprised is all. I mean, I know I'm not like a huge part of your life or anything, but you're a pretty big part of mine, and finding out that you were pregnant like that—"

"Pregnant!?" she screeches, slamming her hands down on the bar.

I stop at her outburst, looking at her with wide scared eyes. "Yeah, I know you didn't technically tell me you were, but you told me you had huge news in your personal life, and that you had been trying for this for a long time, and then you didn't want to drink alcohol, and said you couldn't keep food down, I just—I guess I just assumed—"

"That I was pregnant?" she asks, her wide green eyes bugging out slightly.

"…Yeah?" I hold my breath, watching as she all but hyperventilates.

"Blondie. I had food poisoning. I didn't want to add alcohol to the mix, so I laid off the beer for a night, since I was still feeling slightly nauseous," she explains.

I let out a breath I'd been holding slowly, the relief sinking in and relaxing my muscles. "Then what was the big news?"

She scoffs, leaning back in her chair ungracefully. "I… got a promotion at work," a freckled shoulder lifts as a gesture.

I can tell she's lying, but I don't even care enough to question her further. "You're not pregnant." She's not pregnant. Not pregnant. One less barrier between me and her. Now I just have to tell her that I like her, and want her to break up with the guy she's probably been dating for years and is engaged to be married to… Easy peasy.

She shakes her head, leaning forward again. Suddenly her eyes get wide, and her mouth drops open. "Do I look pregnant!?" she's looking at me desperately, and an instant panic grips my heart like a vice. Back pedal! Oh by the Angel this is horrible!

"What? No, Red, no. I was completely shocked. You're not even glowing. I mean not a pregnant kind of glow, ya know, it's more just like you're beautiful and so it kinda radiates off of you, but you don't look pregnant, no." I stop my rambling right away, realizing too late what I had said. I told her she was beautiful. I've never told a girl she was beautiful without an agenda. Never just because it was true and she should know it.

She stares at me in surprise, and I stare back, wishing not for the first time that I could read her mind. Do I tell her now? Do I tell her how I feel now? I've already told her that she's beautiful, that got the ball rolling. Just keep going, keep going— "I'll have the usual, please… With the Pabst," she adds, expressionless. I nod silently, walking away in a stupor. I just got shot down, hard. I mean, I know I didn't tell her that I like her, but I did tell her that I think she's beautiful. And she just asks for "the usual?" Da fuq? What happened to "thank you?"

I take my time getting her wings, trying to gain the courage to tell her. I've wooed countless women—granted I didn't have to try all that hard—but I can't even tell a pretty girl that I like her? Pathetic, man. On my way back I grab her beer, strongly considering just reaching across the bar and kissing the hell out of her. Thaaat's an excellent way to get charged with sexual harassment, dude. This is New York, what are you thinking?

I place her things in front of her, and pause, not sure what to say. We make eye contact, and stay like that for what is too long to be appropriate, just looking at each other. I'm holding onto the edge of the bar so tightly that I'm afraid the wood is going to break off in my hands. I'm about to throw caution to the wind and fling myself across the bar to her, to my Red, when a customer at a table on the far wall drops his mug of beer.

The tension between us shatters like the glass, and she looks down. I all but growl as I walk away, grabbing a broom on my way. Stupid. Stupid, stupid. Why didn't you say anything? It's three words! Three words, and the next step would've been hers. Just tell her, and it'll all be over. She will either hurl herself into your arms, or walk away and probably never return. At least you wouldn't still be hung up on her, watching as she gets married, and eventually does get pregnant. I clean up the broken glass and spilled beer, waving off the guy's apologies. Accidents happen, it's not his fault I don't have the balls to tell Red that I like her.

The meet passes surprisingly fast after the mess is cleaned, with an unexpected crowd rushing in at 9:20, just before last call. When they're all satisfied and I've dealt with their final bill for the night, I make my way, once again, to Red. She's already putting on her coat, and I know that this is my last chance before she leaves and I don't see her again for a week.

Say it. Say it, Jace. It's easy. By the Angel, middle school boys do it! Just say it! Three words! Ready, set, go! "Where's your fiance?" I blurt, kicking myself. Not the three words I meant. You're supposed to make her forget about her fiance, idiot, not bring him up!

"What?" she asks, looking just as puzzled as I imagine I do.

"It's just, he's never here. And I realize I don't know anything about him. Like, at all. I don't know, I was just wondering why you're always here alone." Smooth. Real smooth. Way to put the moves on her, Jace. She'll be putty in your hands.

I'm expecting an answer like 'Oh he works on Monday and Wednesday nights,' or a reproach for asking something so personal, or basically anything but hysterical laughter. Which is what I get. She's laughing so hard that no sound is coming out, just quakes of laughter shaking her body as she clutches at her sides. I stare in confusion, waiting impatiently for an answer. "You—omigod…! So all this time you thought— Blondie!"

"What? What about my question is so goddamn funny?" I ask, my frustration coming out more that I'd meant it to.

She sobers up fairly quickly, though she's still smiling at me like I'm the crazy one. "So you thought I was pregnant. And you thought I was engaged? What the hell, man, why don't you just ask instead of assuming everything!"

"What do you mean? Red, just talk to me, dammit!" I can't help my anger. She said 'you thought I was engaged.' Doesn't that mean…

"I'm not engaged, Blondie. I have never been engaged, not even close. I am single as a pringle, who's too socially awkward to mingle," she explains, still chuckling at me.

"But… but you're wearing an engagement ring!" I yell, letting my annoyance show now that we're the only two left in the bar.

"Blondie, it's a fake. I wear it at clubs and bars to fend off the creeps," she explains, as if it's totally natural to lie to the majority of the public about your relationship status. Then again, I guess it kind of is; I know my cousin Isabelle does the same exact thing. Just like that, my entire world implodes, despair and utter joy combining in an unnatural tornado of emotion. I know I must look stupid, standing there with my mouth open, but I can't form words to express what I'm feeling.

She pats me on the hand in a comforting gesture, and my head snaps up to see Red shaking her head at me. She's still smiling that smile that makes me feel as if everything in life is going to be alright as long as she's happy. "I should go. But I'll see you next week, and I promise I will answer any pending questions you may have about my nonexistent relationship, or my nonexistent pregnancy." She smirks and walks to the door, buttoning her coat. I should run after her, and tell her now how I feel, I think logically to myself. But I'm frozen in an utter state of shock.

She stops with her hand on the doorknob and turns to look at me. "You are, by the way." When I look at her in confused silence, she smiles sweetly before continuing. "You're a big part of my life, too. A pretty huge one."


Author's Note:

Jace thought she was pregnant with her fiance, but his whole theory just got debunked. So yay for Clace possibilities! And okay, call me a sap but I like Clary's last statement. I know some of you were hoping for a Clace kiss, but be patient. Everything works out, I've already written to week 14.

Next week someone takes the next small step towards Clace, and Clary's artwork is revealed. Get hyped!

PLEASE keep reviewing! Gràcies!

(P.S. I've challenged myself to write a longer chapter every update, because I feel like they're still too short. So you're welcome. Thank me by reviewing.)