ITS FINALS WEEK AND IM UPDATING?! WHAT THE HECK?

Okay fine. It's because you guys are so awesome and your reviews made me all warm and gooey inside that I couldn't help but update.

This is the play chapter! Please keep in mind that the play is soooo long so I cut some parts. Also, hope you guys enjoy it. The chapter's super super long.

Also, I may have made Valentine a bit too mean. That was not my original plan):

Chapter Ten

TIME LAPSE

When you see the hottest guy in school talking to a loser art freak, you might just stop and stare, turn in disbelief to your best friend (or whichever poor soul that happens to be standing next to you) and begin ranting uncontrollably. That is exactly what has happened to me nine times in the last five minutes.

Jace leans on the locker next to mine, carelessly holding a book in one hand while dribbling a soccer ball with the other. A smile tugs at one corner of his mouth. He looks so relaxed, and, discreetly wiping my palms on my pants, I try my best to seem as nonchalant as possible.

I guess even I'm a tiny bit surprised that he's chosen to talk to me. I still remember back when he used to brush by me like I was invisible. Then he started acknowledging me, doing the brief chin jerk, eyebrows-raised nod as we passed each other in the halls. In class, he began sitting down next to me whenever he was free, talking and teasing, laughing and smiling.

Which really freaked me out, given the innumerable death glares Seelie sent.

"Zoning out again, Fray? Am I that boring?" Jace waves a hand two inches away from my face.

I lean away, wrinkling my nose. "Sorry. It's just…"

What was I supposed to say? You're hot and popular and amazing in every possible way, so why are you hanging out with someone like me?

Jace mistakes my opened answer for nervousness. "I get it. The play. Don't worry. It's only in front of a bunch of freshmen."

Right. The play.

Just thinking of it sends a whole column of butterflies flying – no, a whole volcanic arc of exploding lava erupting – in my stomach.

Today is the first, and hopefully only, performance we're putting on. Valentine had excused us from second through fourth period to put on the play for the freshmen in the auditorium.

"Of course you don't have to worry." I try to say it lightly, but it doesn't come out that way. "They worship you like a god."

"And you don't?"

"I worship anything that hasn't been brainwashed by you," I grin.

A girl with long brown hair stalks by me, throwing an accusing glare. Sigh.

Jace tilts dangerously close to me, making my face flare in all shades of red. "You're going to be eating those words once you see me in Romeo's outfit. I'll be so hot my flesh will burn and your ovaries will produce automatic babies."

"What?"

"Sorry. I'm so out of it."

I laugh. "You think?"

He takes a deep breath, and I realize with a shock that he's nervous. Jace, nervous. He opens his mouth to say something when the late bell for second period blasts through the speakers.

"Shit," he mumbles, just as I say, "Valentine is going to flip."

We look at each other and begin sprinting down the hall. From the corner of my eye, I see Jace smiling.

…

Turns out, Valentine does flip. As soon as he spies us trying to sneak in the back door, he storms over, his face as dark as a black hole. A crowd of eagerly awaiting students streams after him, hungry for some serious scolding. Assholes.

"The two leading actors – leading actors! – late? Absolutely unacceptable. Outrageous!" He shouts, totally flipping out. I muffle a yelp as Jace's elbow digs into my side. "Even the supporting actors, the blasted costume makers– "

"Hey!" Woosley Scott protests.

" – got here on time! You two are in big, big trouble. I have to remain calm now for the show, but don't think I'm going to forget." He glares at us and storms away.

"If that's calm," Jace mutters, "I'd hate to see what angry is." He shakes his head and clamps a hand down on my head, ruffling my hair before following one of the guys to the back to change.

I'm acutely aware of Seelie's death glare as I brush past her to slip into Juliet's ridiculously frilly dress.

Then, time speeds up. Suddenly, Isabelle's pounding on the door to the changing room, yelling that I'm onstage in two seconds. There's no time to even be frightened. People are grabbing my arms, pushing me forward, and I almost fall flat on my face as I stumble onstage.

Bright light blinds me for a second, and I turn to look out over the auditorium, meeting a sea of black with round shapes that appear to be heads. My heart pounds, my throat dries, and then, as if by miracle, my mouth begins to mechanically recite lines.

Everything seems so surreal.

Then the curtains fall for the next scene and I'm ushered off the stage. Then on again. Then off.

And then…

Then…

The awkward kissing scene.

Oh, Jesus Christ. Humiliation in class is one thing, but mortification in front of freshmen?

Someone please kill me.

Capulet and the guests are gathered on one side of the stage, pretending to party. They look like fifth graders unsuccessfully trying to freak. Then Jace ambles over and I release the curtain I'm hanging on to for life support and run onstage, towards him.

He grabs my hand. "If I profane with my unworthiest hand / This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand / To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."

Someone in the crowd snickers.

My mind nearly goes blank as Jace's finger gently runs down the length of my palm. Was he trying to make me seem like an idiot?

"G-Good pilgrim," I stutter, curling my fingers tightly against his to stop him from distracting me, "you do wrong your hand too much / Which mannerly devotion shows in this / For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch / And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss."

Jace rushes through his next lines, sounding breathless. My mouth almost twists in envy, for Valentine is sure to commend him for excellent acting. "O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do…Move not, while my prayers effect I take."

Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god.

The awkward moment has arrived.

Jace's face comes closer and closer. I turn my face a little, and he the other way. Our cheeks touch, and I can't help but inhale his scent. Wild and fresh, like pine needles.

He pulls away, lingering slightly, and my heart thumps wildly.

Awkward moment over. Good. Only nine thousand more to go.

I open my mouth to speak, but what I never imagine is for the whole freshmen class to burst out in simultaneous groans.

Freaking freshmen.

And then, my worst nightmare.

Some snotty, annoying kids begin chanting, "Kiss her! Kiss her!"

My face is as red as Clifford the Big Red Dog.

I am that mortified, barely able to look Jace in the eye as I stutter out my next lines, which are completely drowned out. The chanting continues, rising like a tidal wave towering thousands of feet high before crashing down.

Jace's cheeks are surprisingly flushed, as if he's just won a soccer game. He glances at the crowd, meets my eyes for a millisecond, and then peers at Valentine offstage, unsure of what to do.

Valentine, clearly distraught, waves us on, while the teachers attempt to subdue those annoying brats. Maybe tranquilizers will do the job.

Jace recites his lines, and, as soon as the curtains drop, both of us pelt of the stage, faster than Usain Bolt.

As the backstage managers scurry around, Jace and I do everything to avoid each other.

Talk about awkward.

I wanted to go out there and slap all those little asses senseless.

Thinking of it just makes me angrier. I was harrassed by little babies. But at least Jace suffered along with me, although it probably wasn't more than a prick to him. He's probably already kissed half of the freaking girls at our school. I wonder absent-mindedly if he's a virgin.

Then I immediately regret it as I glance over at him and catch his eye. My face burns. There's this unfamiliar clenching in my chest that makes it hard to breath.

I will never ever ever think that thought again.

Thankfully, it isn't our turn to act yet, so both of us prepare for the next scene…the balcony scene.

Oh, my God. Seriously not good. This is the scene where Romeo stuffs his tongue halfway down Juliet's throat.

The curtains fall again, way too soon. I dread going onstage, and, even more frightening, part of me is anticipating it.

I take my place on the "balcony," a crappy cardboard cutout raised three feet above the stage.

From behind the curtains, Jace smiles at me. And just like that, I flush.

Some tiny voice whispers in my ear: he's playing you, exactly like how he plays all other girls.

The curtains rise.

I sigh. "O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? / Deny thy father and refuse thy name. / Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love / And I'll no longer be a Capulet."

Jace snakes quietly towards me, as if scared to be discovered by Old Capulet. "I take thee at thy word./ Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized./ Henceforth I never will be Romeo."

I gasp with delight, yet I only feel hatred as the freshmen snicker. Oh, the fun of being an actor. "My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words / Of that tongue's uttering, yet I know the sound./ Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?"

I scamper down the balcony into Jace's embrace. Not for the first time, I wish everything is real. The hugs, the love, the kissing. But we are only acting.

He frames my face in his hands. After all those rehearsals, I still haven't gotten used to it. I still feel the electric zaps from where his fingers brush over my cheeks, and now, in front of everyone, the feeling is greater than ever.

"Juliet," he whispers.

I wish you'd say Clary.

Instead of slobbering spit, we take a tiny stroll around the stage, reciting our lines, and then from offstage, Maia's voice, playing the Nurse, shrieks, "Madam!"

I hurry back to the balcony, careful not to trip on the long dress and fall on my face in full view of the audience.

"Wait, Juliet!"

I stand on my balcony edge and lean forward, towards Jace.

"Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!"

Someone. Stab. Me. Now.

Please.

The moment approaches closer and closer. The pounding of my heart grows louder and louder. Breathing becomes a challenge.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

Jace's eyes glitter. He leans towards me, and I turn my head to one side, like last time.

But he angles his differently.

He is going to kiss me.

Kiss me. On my lips. In front of the freshmen and Seelie and Valentine and everyone else.

My eyes fly wide, and Jace smirks a little, but only a little. The chanting rises to a thunderous roar, the teachers powerless to do anything.

So close. It was coming. The kiss.

I move so fast at the last second that his lips land sloppily on my cheek.

But I still blush. A kiss is still a kiss.

Jace pulls back, his head lowered and his reaction hidden. And all I hear is booing from the crowd.

Little bitches. Who do they think they are? How can they be so disrespectful?

I'm so furious I can't think straight. And so shocked that Jace tried to kiss me.

Maybe that's why I suddenly feel as if I'm out of my body. Maybe that's why I suddenly have enough guts to do something I've never dreamed of. Not in a million years.

In front of the students, teachers, everyone, I flip the audience off. In plain view, on the stage.

The audience hushes, lapsing into shocked silence. The teachers are in a state of disbelief. Valentine looks at me like I'm a stranger.

I have a right to do this.

With a feeling of extreme satisfaction, I stalk off the stage.

The rest of the play runs smoothly. During the last scene, I enact Juliet's death so beautifully that I receive a standing ovation. Hell, dying is the best part of the play. It feels as if part of my mortification has died along with Juliet.

…

After the play, my luck goes downhill. Jace corners me as soon as I step out of the changing stall. I open the door, and there he stands, leaning casually against the wall.

He's playing you, just like how he plays all other girls.

He immediately takes three huge steps over. I try to dodge.

No use. It's like trying to escape twenty sumo wrestlers advancing in a line. You never make it to the end.

Not that Jace was fat…

Fat Jace. I crack a smile.

Apparently, he takes it the wrong way and demands, seeming almost frustrated and agitated, "Why didn't you let me kiss you?"

"Wow. Arrogant, are we?" I shoot back.

He grins. The prick really hadn't been affected by the humiliating chanting. "Who do you think I am? Jace Pussy Wayland?

"Sorry, how many pussies have you licked?"

Yeah, even he had to admit, that was a good one. Score for me.

Jace takes a step back. "What?"

"Look, Jace, I'm sorry you can't just go around kissing anyone you like. Not everyone whores around like you and your girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" He laughs. "We broke up weeks ago. You're hella late, Sophomore."

Something in my chest feels tight. And excited. And hopeful.

"Sorry my world doesn't revolve around you," I say.

"Is that a challenge?" Jace smiles, badboy to perfection. "Because I can make it revolve around me."

I roll my eyes. "The only way that will happen is if you take a leash, tie me up, and swing me in circles."

One of his dimples surfaces. Damn. Dimples just make him harder to resist.

"We'll see. By the way," he smiles, a real smile. "Nice stunt back there. You've got quite a lot more guts that I'd credited you with."

I brush past him, laughing. Leave it up to Jace to cheer me up.

I'm still laughing as I venture back onto the stage, where my classmates are cleaning up, when a hand clamps onto my shoulder. A cold hand.

Shit.

"Clarissa," Valentine growls. "Come with me. Now."

…

The office is deceptively colorful. Pictures of various pieces of student artwork hang along the walls, creating an atmosphere of happiness and concealing its true identity: a shithole.

The principle, Mr. Starkweather, sits sternly in front of me, while Valentine stands behind him, like a pathetic lap dog.

"Clarissa Fray?"

"Yeah."

"I've just been informed of your behavior. Unacceptable. However, given the circumstances, I understand your actions. This is why I will be only assigning you a twenty-four hour community service assignment to be done this Saturday. It is some form of a carnival sponsored by the Institute on Idris Street. I'll relay the info to your fifth period later. Do you have any questions?"

Only twenty four hours? Was he kidding me?

From his expression, the answer seemed to be yes.

Fuck.

I stumble out of the office, seriously angry. A loner leans against the wall, snickering slightly, and I stomp towards him, ready to knock out his teeth out.

It's Jace.

"Um," I say shortly, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't peg you to be the stalker type."

His mouth – oh, God, the mouth that had been mere centimeters from my own half an hour ago– pulls up into a lazy smile. "Sorry. You're just too damn irresistible."

The biting retort fizzles and dies on my tongue. And the sad part is, I can't tell if he's kidding or not.

His smirk tells me he knows I believe him. "Don't sweat it, Sophomore. Trust me, I don't feel like throwing up when I see you."

Throwing up? Was he purposely taunting me for puking all over him? Any warm and fuzzy feelings I have for him dwindles and dies.

"You know what's funny?" I snap. "That I actually believed for a while you weren't a complete jackass."

Jace's smile vanishes. And, if I'd been stupid, I would have said he even looked sorry. "Oh, come on, Clary. You know I didn't mean it that way."

"Yeah?" I scoff, crossing my arms. "Then please enlighten me."

He rubs the back of his neck, looking abashed. "I guess I just meant that you're…not too hard on the eyes. Not hard at all."

What does he mean, not hard on the eyes? That I'm pretty? But this is Jace Wayland. If he means pretty, he would say pretty…right?

I guess I am just hopelessly and foolishly wishing.

"Nice try, Jace, but sorry I'm not your average unevolved Neaderthal whore."

"God, Clary." He runs a hand through his hair in agitation and inhales deeply. "It's like we're back where we started before. Arguing nonstop. Look, I'm sorry, okay? Just forget I said anything. Forget we had this conversation."

That kind of subdues me a bit. Maybe I'm worth something to him after all.

"Then what did you want to say before – "

Shit. I am such a bitch.

I didn't even apologize. And now, it's a little too late.

He looks at me for a while as I slowly die inside and finally says, "I overheard your punishment."

I sigh.

"What if I told you that my uncle is one of the organizers and that I'm also forced to go?"

"Are you serious?"

He lifts a shoulder. "Do you want to go together? I mean, together as in I'll give you a ride, not together-together. Or unless you want to go together-together, then we can go together-together. But I'm not like suggesting anything, you know? I just – "

I can't stop laughing.

"Hey." He snaps. "What's so funny?"

I laugh some more. "You," I shake my head. "You're stuttering."

"I am not," he says indignantly. "I'm clarifying" He pauses, then starts snickering. "Ha, see what I did there? You're Clary, and I'm 'clary-fying.'"

"Wow, I think we have the next Einstein here," I say sarcastically. For a second we just grin at eat other stupidly. "But sure, I'd love to go together."

And before I can think twice, before I can back out, before I begin overanalyzing everything, I reach out and wrap my arms around him. Then I scurry away, down the hall, my face on fire.

Maybe now he thinks I'm weird.

But maybe it was worth it.

This took a LONG time to write when I should have been studying for finals, so please please please review. Also, my birthday is in less than two weeks, so please review as a present? :)