Hey, guys! I totally forgot that it was Monday, but here's the latest MS chapter! Thanks to IWriteNaked for beta'ing (and for the "same" comment on the Solitaire line omg), and to my homies (spikeyhairgood, DeathCabForMari, and LuckyAsLockhart) for being so awesome and supportive and, to the latter, for making fun of my super obscure fics. I love you all. :)

Thanks to you guys for reading and for being so supportive and kind all the time! I love you. I hope you like this chapter!


Smile, the worst is yet to come
We'll be lucky if we ever see the sun
Got nowhere to go, we could be here for a while
But the future is forgiven, so smile

We're trying so hard to get it all right
But only feel lonely at the end of the night
And I wanna be somewhere away from this place
Yeah, somewhere just a little closer to grace

"Smile" by Mikky Ekko


On Christmas Eve, Luke proposed to my mother.

I don't know the details, but he asked Jonathan and me about it a few days before, and we said it was cool. And now, on the actual day of Christmas, they're making us do family things. It's super gross. I just wanna be at home and do nothing. Maybe watch some Netflix. Hang with my friends. I want to be eighteen so that I don't feel legally obligated to do any of this crap.

"We're gonna be late!" Mom shouts. As per usual, we're going to Luke's apartment. I roll my eyes, put on my coat and scarf, get my bag, and walk out the door. My green beanie covers my ears, which would be otherwise frozen in the late December air.

Outside, it's snowing. Even though I've grown up with the cold, I still shiver as we walk to the subway station.

My mom is actually happy. She beams at us the entire subway ride, talking about how she knows that it's soon, but she's so happy. I'm happy that she's happy. She gives us a lot of shit, but it isn't as if her life's been perfect either. I don't know the details, but I know that she hates her childhood memories. And, also, our father left her when she was pregnant with me. So there's that.

It was one of the things that Jace and I shared, sort of. Neither one of us had a father figure in our lives. We talked about that a little bit, but we never went into too much detail, mostly because I had no details. I don't know anything about my mom and dad's relationship; all I know is that he hasn't been around since I can remember.

I shake away every thought of Jace and listen to the music coming from my headphones, choosing to focus on that rather than my glowing, ecstatic mother.

It's just the five of us at Luke's apartment, but that's where the (real) Christmas tree is, and it's where there's wine (for the parents) and presents (because of the actual tree thing) and a fireplace.

I take a real, deep breath when I go in, glad that I can breathe without feeling like my lungs are being stabbed by the too-real swords of the freezing cold weather.

When I take out my phone from my purse, I see that I have a bunch of messages from my friends. I open them, my hands still cold as shit from the outside.

From Isabelle, I have three messages. Merry Christmas, Clary! Tell everyone in ur family I said so. :), My parents are already being huge pains in the ass, and Goddamn it I want to emancipate myself already.

From Simon, I have two messages. I'm Jewish, but Merry Christmas! Tell everyone I say hello and that I hope they have a nice day full of presents from a fat fictional guy and whatnot. :P and Check the group chat, Clare.

Confused, I click on our group chat. It has Maia, Isabelle, Simon, and myself.

Maia: Guys, I have to tell you something.
Isabelle: What's up, Mai?
Simon: Is this a girl thing?
Isabelle: Shut up, Simon.
Maia: Jordan and I broke up.
Isabelle: Oh, Mai, I'm sorry.
Simon: Why'd you break up?
Maia: He has anger issues. Nothing bad ever happened, but he'd start picking arguments with me because other unrelated crap went wrong, and I got sick of it, so I told him to fuck off and that we weren't meant to be for each other. And it was the right thing, but it hurts like a damn bitch.

That's where the chat left off, which means that I have to pick it back up. I take a deep breath, type my message, and send it.

Clary: I'm really sorry, Mai. Of course it's gonna hurt like a bitch. You guys were really close, so it's gonna be terrible, even if you were the one to end it. But you did the right thing. It's really hard to own up to that, but you're doing it.
Maia: Thanks, Clary. It means a lot. I know I was right in breaking up with him, but I love him so much, you know?
Clary: That kind of thing heals with time. It's gonna be harder because of school, but we'll be here for you.
Maia: Thanks again.

Crisis averted, I guess. Back in the real world, Mom and Luke are giggling in the kitchen as they try to make dinner, and Jon and I are sitting on the couch.

"Hey," Jon says, "when they get married, do we have to move in with him?"

I ponder this for a second. "It'd be closer to Simon."

"Just because you wanna be with your lover doesn't mean that it's a good thing to move here."

"Ew! He's not my lover. And, besides, I don't care whether we move or not. And neither should you. You're going to college in, like, two years."

He waves me off. "These two years are important, little sis."

I roll my eyes at him and play Solitaire until the amount of messages on the group chat becomes overwhelming.

Isabelle: What Clary said.
Simon: When did you get good with words, Clary?
Isabelle: Do tell us your secrets.
Maia: I can't tell if this is sarcasm or genuine wonder. Either way, y'all are dicks.
Isabelle: We're wonderful.
Simon: You love us, Maia.
Maia: You're dorks. Merry Christmas, by the way! :)
Isabelle: Merry Christmas, you biiiiitch. :D
Simon: Right back at you guys, even though, again, I really don't celebrate Christmas.
Maia: You're missing out, Si.
Isabelle: She's kidding. (He hates Christmas.)
Simon: It's just so pointless.
Clary: Oh my God, you guys, can't a brother play Solitaire without a billion messages on the group chat? (Also, Merry Christmas, and I love you.)

When Luke and Mom finish up with dinner, we eat in peace. They actually talk to us about things without making us feel like we haven't accomplished anything ever, which is nice. Luke's a bit better than Mom in most scenarios, but it's nice to see her catch up to his level of maturity and kindness in certain situations.

Don't get me wrong, though. He can still be an absolute dick when he needs to be, but it's not all the time, like my mother. She has certain rare moments when she's an actual human being, but, other than that, she's a demonic bitch from hell.

I used to tell her that I hated her a lot when I was younger. Up until I was eleven, when she'd do something that hurt me, I'd tell her that I hated her and that I wish I was never born and that God punished me by making her my mom. Sure, those were mean things to say, but the things she did were mean things to do.

At dinner, we talk about the wedding a bit. It'll be in around three-four months, because they want a late spring wedding, and it won't be big, because my mom doesn't get along with her family and Luke doesn't have that many living family members. That, in addition to their friends, adds up to about sixty people, give or take. Not bad for a wedding.

We move on to talking about school. Mom and Luke congratulate me on my grades, even though I got a C+ in Algebra I and a B- in Biology. I hear them talk to my brother about college while I absentmindedly eat. I'm not really hungry, but I know that, as a rule, I won't be excused from the table, so I just eat to pass the time and ignore the vibration of my phone every single time a new message shows up on the chat.

Eventually, I find a perfect excuse. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom," I tell them, interrupting them mid-conversation.

I hurry to Luke's bathroom and take out the phone from my pocket, replying to the messages. While I'm in there, I find out that I did have to go to the bathroom, which is pretty neat, I guess.

I don't know why I start to think of him, but I wonder how Jace is spending his Christmas. I think a bit about sending him a quick message, but I know that he won't appreciate, regardless of how much I mean it. I shove my phone in my pocket, wash my hands, and make my way back to the table. All we do for the rest of the evening is talk, open presents, and drink hot chocolate.

And it feels nice.


On December 26th, I'm finally able to see my friends.

We meet up at Simon's apartment. His sister, Rebecca, is home for the holidays, and she's "babysitting" us. I say "babysitting" because she's actually making out with her boyfriend. They may be having sex, though. I don't know. We're trying to stay as far away from that area as possible.

The three of us who celebrate Christmas share our stories about the day. I tell them about how Mom and Luke were actually pretty decent, only annoying me once or twice, and Maia tells us about awkward silences and weird relatives she's forgotten all about already and will continue to do so forever. For a brief second, she tells us about the breakup, about how she broke up with the guy she loved during Christmas. Isabelle tells us that her brother accidentally came out as gay and that her mom drank a lot of wine.

Yup. Christmas. And that's just the stuff we know about.

Simon's room is only slightly bigger than mine. He took the bigger room in the apartment after Rebecca moved out, and it's still weird to go into the second room to the left instead of the first one. I sit cross-legged on his bed as he tells us of his very ordinary December 25th.

Music plays softly in the background, more of a mood setter or an afterthought than an actual necessity. Still, it feels nice, like it's meant to be played. "That's Not My Name" by The Ting Tings sounds different when it's played so low that it can barely be heard.

"Okay," Isabelle says, clapping her hands. "I can't wait anymore. Let's open up the presents."

We all got each other presents this year. For example, Simon, Isabelle, and I got Maia a present, and Maia, Simon, and I got Isabelle a present, and so on. Anyway, I get three presents, same as everyone else, and I'm super excited. A present per person, but picked collectively (and paid in the same manner). It's a fun, cheap idea for gifts, and I'm pumped for this.

Isabelle goes first. We got her some makeup, three CDs—1989 by Taylor Swift, It's Not Me, It's You by Lily Allen, and AM by Arctic Monkeys—and two poster things. The posters were drawings I made that we had photoshopped and printed. One of them is of a collection of knives, and the other is just a drawing blend of New York City and Paris. Her two favorite places. We also made her a card, but we told her to open it later.

"You guys," she says, smiling really hard, "are the best people. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome!" Maia's beaming. "Okay, my turn."

Maia was a little trickier, because we don't know her as much as we know each other, so we had Jordan's help there (before the breakup, of course). It turns out that Maia really likes video games and stuff, so I made her a Zelda poster, we bought her a video game, and her favorite band's EP. We don't actually know the band; that part was all Jordan.

It makes me sad to see that they've had to break up. I see why it's necessary, but I know that she's miserable. She smiles and thanks us for the gifts, and she seems a little perky, even, but I know that she's sad. I don't let that realization come to light, however; I just smile and play along.

It's Simon's turn. We got him two video games, a Game of Thrones bobblehead (I think it's a Tyrion one?), and a few band t-shirts and rubber bands. He thanks us with hugs and everything, and I'm really happy to see him enjoying his present so vivaciously.

It's finally time for me to open my presents. I start unwrapping them, and then Isabelle starts speaking.

"It was really hard to figure out what to get you," Izzy says. "This year's been different than most, and I know that things have happened, so we wanted to get you a different type of gift and stuff. Anyway, if you hate it, we can return it."

They got me some of the usual stuff. A book—Amy Poehler's Yes Please—and some new pencils. Two CDs. And then I found the notebooks.

"One of them's just a sketchbook," Simon says. "But the other one's a notebook. Just so you can keep a log of everything."

"Like what?" I ask.

"Your thoughts, or your goals, or your to-do list. I don't know. We're not the easiest to talk to," he replies, "but I hope that this thing helps."

Though I don't feel, like, moved to tears or anything, this is still a pretty huge, sweet gesture. I reach over and hug all three of them, not caring that Simon and Iz had a way bigger say in this than Maia, because who cares? I love them. I mean, it's not something that I'd admit out loud, but I love all of them—even Maia, who I thought I'd hate until the end of my days. Sure, she did drop Jordan like a hot potato, but there's a reason behind it. And she can be kind of bitchy and rude, but she can also be nice and supportive. And she's open-minded. I don't know, but the positives definitely outweigh the negatives.

And she's a pretty good person to talk to.

The three of us play Clue, one of our favorite games. We play until our eyelids droop, and then we're taking a quick nap, the sound of moaning and music awkwardly filling the silence.


Let me know what you think! xo