Chapter 10 - Jace's P.O.V.

I stumbled into Jon's house. I couldn't wait to see this long-lost sister of his. To be honest, when he called to tell me that his sister was returning, some small part of me hoped that it was Clary. I missed seeing her in the hallways and teasing her. I missed her temper. I missed how easy it was to get a reaction out of her. I missed her red hair and her green eyes. I missed her. The Clary-ness of Clary was missing from my life, and I didn't like it. However, it wasn't going to be Clary. It was some Seraphina girl. I walked into the living room. Iz and Alec studiously ignored me. It stung, but no more than it did for the past year. At least they talked to me while Clary was still here. Since she'd left, they haven't spoken a word to me except when necessary.

"This is a really nice house, Jon." I heard a voice I would know anywhere. Clary? I turned. I saw white high heels come into contact with the top of the stairs. As the girl descended, I couldn't look away from her. She wasn't Clary. But, man, she was gorgeous. She had long legs, a flat stomach, long arms, long and thin fingers, a long and sleek neck, and Clary's face. Her figure was slim, but athletic. She would give all the sexiest girls in our school a run for their money, but she didn't seem the type to sleep around. She finally noticed us. I called mental dibs. "Oh? And who are these… boys?"
"Huh?" Jon said.
"No." She held up a hand. "Let me guess their names. Their full names." I scoffed to myself. She's never going to guess my name. I've only told three people. None of which could have told her. She pointed at each of us and correctly said their full name, making a few stumbles, but overall getting them right. Finally, she got to me. I smirked at her, confident that she'd get my name wrong. "And you are Jonathon Christopher Lightwood."
"Wro - wait, what?" I began saying 'wrong' before realising she had, in fact, said my name correctly.
"Your name. It is Jonathon Christopher Lightwood, isn't it?" She looked smug and amused. I only nodded, numbly. How did she know?
"Jon, have you introduced me?" She turned to her brother.
"Oh, yeah. Guys, this is Seraphina." He began, before being interrupted by the girl's tsk-ing.
"Jon. It isn't nice to tease. Just because you like what Dad wanted to call me better, doesn't mean you can introduce me as that." Jonathon looked slightly confused but composed himself, and his mouth fell into a playful smirk, though his eyes betrayed his puzzlement. "These boys will know my name soon enough. I'm going to your school for senior year, aren't I?"
"Please tell us who you are?" Jordan asked.
She smirked and shook her head. "Pass."
"Okay, tell me how you know my name." I asked.
She looked at me and her eyes narrowed slightly. "Okay. Let me tell you a story. Once, long ago, there was a girl. She had lived here all her life and was pretty content with her place in the world. One day, when this girl was five, a family moved into the empty house next door to her's. This girl was extremely excited. After all, the house had been empty for her whole life, and suddenly, it was to be lived in. She found out from her parents and brother that the family that was moving in had three children her age. Once she was certain that they had settled in, unpacked and were happily living in the house, she made her presence noticed. She baked her best brownies that everyone she knew liked and went round to their house. She knocked on the door and put on the smile she had reserved for adults. Instead of an adult opening the door, it was a boy with blonde hair. He scoffed at her height, as she was small for her age, and called for his mother. A woman came to the door and the girl offered her brownies. With a smile, the woman invited the girl inside. She walked in and quickly became friends with the woman's daughter and oldest son. Both had dark hair, which rivalled their brother's light hair. Before long, she decided that it was time to leave." The girl paused. She had been staring at me the entire time. My face had drained of its colour and my expression was slightly horrified. I knew this story. I knew this because that blonde haired boy had been me. How does she know this story? "On her way out, she met the blonde haired boy and he picked a fight with her. No matter how nice the girl tried to be, he kept trying to push her buttons. Finally, she snapped and punched the boy in the gut, kneed his nose and calmly walked away. She was halfway to her house, when he introduced himself. They became fast friends over this random violent act of hers. However, randomly, one day at school, he started to bully her. She was confused at first, but later, it became a struggle to go to school. It was physically hard to drag herself up and get to a building where suddenly everyone was bullying her. She had the support of her friends, excluding the blonde haired boy, but in the end, it wasn't enough. She just couldn't go to that school, so when her mother announced that she had to leave to Europe, she jumped at the chance. There, she told me this story. That boy's name is Jace, or Jonathon Christopher Lightwood. The girl was called Clary Fray."
"Was?" I choked out. It can't be the thing I'm thinking of. The Clary I was friends with would never have given up that easily.
"Hmm?" The girl looked at me, her green eyes hard and unyielding. "Yes, she died a few months ago. At a hospital." She watched, slight fascination and wonder in her eyes, as a slight choking noise escaped my lips. Let her wonder. I don't care.
"Uh… Jace? You okay?" Jon glanced at the girl before looking at me, concern in his eyes.
I ignored him, sinking down onto one of the sofas. All I could think about was Clary. She's dead. Those two words were all I could hear in my mind, all I could see when I closed my eyes. I'd never see those beautiful green eyes flashing in anger and intuition again, I'd never see that fiery mane of hair, I'd never see and hear her musical laugh, I'd never see those freckles that I loved so much, I'd never be able to apologise to her and tell her what I'd wanted to say since first grade. I'd never be able to tell her that I loved her.