Hello! I'm sorry that this is a day late, but, on top of being sick, yesterday was moving day, so I was packing the whole time, and then I napped (because I had the worst headache ever). On top of all of that, I don't have wifi in my new house yet, so I have to wait until tomorrow for it to be installed. So that happened. I also wanted to add that the whole Jace/Clary issue I addressed in my last AN wasn't written out of offense or anything. I just wrote it because a lot of people had asked me about it, so I figured that, for the sake of guest reviewers (and also because I'm lazy and felt like I was repeating myself a lot), I wrote about it in my AN. But yeah. I wasn't offended by any comments on Clary and Jace's situation/feelings at all. I love hearing everything you guys have to say, whether it's good or bad. :)

As always, special thanks to Katwood5 for being my lovely, supportive beta and friend. Also, thanks to IWriteNaked for staying up with me on Tuesday until my SAT scores came out. You're both awesome. Oooh, and thanks to spikeyhairedgood for being so super nice and awesome. I can't come up with any adjectives right now because my brain is dead, but the three of you kick so much ass, yo.

I hope you like this chapter!

In the days that follow, I, sadly, have to see more of Jace.

It's partly because I refuse to be my brother's bitch. Mom and Luke have gotten him crutches, sure, but that doesn't stop him from acting like he's the king of everything. He's all, "Bring me that," or, "Make me some food," and I refuse to stoop down to that level. Naturally, that task goes to his best friend when my parents are not around, which is why, on Tuesday night, Jace Wayland is making us dinner.

I sit at the kitchen island. I have no other choice, because Jace doesn't know where things are, and my brother says he has to be lying down right now, so I'm with him. In the kitchen. Alone. Great.

I wish we had an open kitchen or something so I wouldn't feel like I'm trapped. Sadly, the house wasn't built that way. I curse the damn architect that designed it and tell Jace that the salt is in the cabinet right above him.

I do my math problems. Imaginary numbers and radicals suddenly seem like the most exciting thing in the world. Jace is looking at me, but I pretend I don't notice. I have math homework, and then I have to finish Huckleberry Finn, and then sleep. And avoid Jace. But, really, you can't blame a girl for wanting to avoid the guy who hurt her.

Sometimes I think about Jordan, about how it would've been like if my brother hadn't been such an asswipe. We could be going out. Holding hands. Kissing. I could be having a semi-normal life instead of having to tell a guy I HATE where the freaking ingredients are because he's making us dinner.

I get a call from Isabelle right after I tell Jace for the millionth time that the pepper should be where the salt is (boys are dumb) and answer it, glad to have a distraction.

"What's up?"

"My dad tried to talk to me today."

My eyes, which were shut, open up. "He did what?"

"He tried to talk to me. Apologized, told me I'd understand one day." She laughs bitterly. "As if I'm a kid. He's so goddamn condescending."

Jace looks at me. "Do you guys have Parmesan cheese?"

The line's quiet. "Clary, who's there?"

"No one," I mutter, nodding at Jace and pointing to the cabinet to his right.

"Is that Jace Wayland?"

I sigh and lower my voice. "He wanted to make dinner for us, and I couldn't object, because Jon said yes before I could even speak."

"Clary."

"Yes?"

"I'm gonna give you so much shit for this later."

"Please don't," I warn. "Anyway, what'd your dad say? Did he call Alec?"

"Yep. Alec's thinking about coming down for spring break next month." She sighs. "Which sucks, because he could've had a nice vacation with Magnus, but noooooo."

"You do realize his spring break lasts for, like, four days, right?"

"Whatever." She huffs. It's no use to argue with her while she's pissed off. "Anyway, can I come over? I'll save you from Jace, and you'll save me from the bottle of tequila sitting in front of me. Deal?"

I know she's gonna make this dinner hell, but she's right. I need her. She obviously needs me. I wonder briefly why she didn't go to Simon for this and make a note of asking her later. "Sure."

"I'll be there soon."

I hang up. "Isabelle's joining us," I say to Jace. "Will there be enough food in there?"

Jace nods, but he doesn't say anything. He's concentrating. I try not to watch him, but I can't help myself. I think he's one of those people that completely lose themselves in what they're doing, because he's moving like cooking is a dance, like it's the only thing that he should care about. I wonder if he's upset before discarding that idea and mentally hitting myself. I shouldn't care about Jace. I won't. I don't. Ever.

I do homework until Isabelle gets here, and I'm so relieved by her presence that I all but fall into her arms.

"I thought you were supposed to be comforting me," she says, but she holds me tight.

"This was a mutual arrangement," I mutter, letting go of her. "Anyway, dinner's still not ready. This dude takes forever."

This dude happens to be behind me. "I heard that."

"I hate you."

"Dinner is ready, by the way."

"And you planned on telling me when, exactly?"

"When Isabelle got here. Which she did, so now I can tell you."

"You are so pointless." I shake my head and make my way into the kitchen.

Isabelle is uncharacteristically quiet as we eat. I know it's about me, possibly about Jace and me, and I don't want to ask. We grab our food and walk up the stairs, deciding that eating in my room is more comfortable than staying downstairs.

"You two are comfortable around each other," she tells me, looking at me with judgment in her eyes. "You used to be awkward, and now it's like you've known each other forever, and you act like you hate him, but—"

"Act?" I stare at her, not knowing if she's kidding or not. "Izzy, no one hates him more than I do. I do not like him. I may be comfortable with him, knowing that I hate him, but I'm not comfortable around him. And," I add, "I know you're my best friend, and I love you, but just…don't. Not today."

She looks down at her food and picks at it. "Fine."

I feel bad about the harshness in my words. I'm usually the one who isn't snappy, and she needs me. I hate the way she's acting, because, hello, my life is mine, not hers, but I want her to know that I'm still here supporting her.

"Sorry. It's just not as easy as it seems. I basically have to tolerate him, you know?"

She nods. "I'm just snappy because my dad's an asshole."

"What did he say?"

She lets out a bitter, humorless laugh. "He asked me to forgive him. He says he never meant to hurt any of us, and that he loves us, and that he wants to have lunch with us once Alec's back just to straighten some things out. He wants us to be okay with what he did. But I can't be." She takes a breath. It's shaky. "I can't be okay with him ruining my mom and breaking her heart, and I can't be okay with him breaking mine. And Max's. He's devastated."

"Max?" I ask. She nods.

"He's avoiding Dad more than I am," she tells me. "He's almost ten, and even he knows that Dad is beyond fucked up right now."

"God." I lean back against my chair. "I'm so sorry, Iz."

She waves me off. "It's not your fault. Or mine. It's all on him." She says the last word with venom. It's hard to believe that she's talking about her dad. Isabelle always looked up to him, to the way he managed being a working guy and a family guy. He was always traveling and bringing them stuff from all over the world, but he made the most out of the time he spent home.

And now that illusion's been shattered. Isabelle's eyes are burning with rage.

"Do you wanna go make fun of Jon?"

She gives me a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Sure."

And so we spend a good hour making fun of Jon and hearing the way he twisted his ankle. Isabelle teases him, threatening to touch it, and he yells at her. Of course, she gets a kick out of this enough to do it repeatedly. Eventually, though, we all end up watching The Notebook because the remote stops working.

Isabelle promises to hang out with me this weekend. Of course, now it's Thursday, and she's spent the last two days babysitting her brother while her parents fight.

They're dealing with divorce-type stuff, but it sucks to hear it. I can't believe that Robert Lightwood is such a dick. I mean, seriously. Who cheats on someone when you have a family? That's fucked up.

Her brother calls when we're sitting at the lunch table. Alec rarely calls—he's too busy with college and Magnus—so Isabelle picks it up as soon as she can. She sounds five years younger when she says, "Alec?"

He says something to her, and she holds up a finger to us and points to the outside. Simon starts to rise, but she makes a motion for him to sit down and leaves with an apology for us written in her eyes. I take it and sit down, wishing I could hear their conversation. I miss Alec.

"You okay?" Simon asks.

"I wish you people would stop asking me that." Tomorrow is the first day of April, I realize. "I'm fine."

"It's just…well, with him coming here and all—"

"Dude," I say, interrupting whatever it is he was trying to say. "I'm so over that. He's a dickwad. No reason to stress over it."

He looks at me doubtfully. "Are you sure?"

I roll my eyes. "For the love of God, Simon, I'm fine." I take a sip out of my soda. "How are you and Izzy, anyway?"

"I've been giving her space. She requested it," he says quickly. "But she still talks to me and tells me that she's gonna be okay soon. I just need to wait this out." He bites his thumbnail.

I pry his thumb from his mouth and sigh. "It's been tough on them, this whole thing. And, I mean, she's going through a tough time in the relationship department. Yours is fine, but the one she had with Robert? Not so much."

"He's her dad," Simon says. "They'll have to work it out. Right?"

I don't say anything.

"Fuck," he swears, going back to picking at his food. We don't say anything, because the whole thing depresses us.

Isabelle comes back ten minutes later. At least she doesn't look like she's been crying. "Alec says hi to both of you."

"What else did he say?"

She shrugs. "That Dad sucks and he'll be here in two weeks and will stay for four days."

"Awesome," I say, meaning it. After Alec came out as gay during his senior year of high school (last school year, but two years ago), he became a lot more easy-going and friendly. The secret had been weighing him down like an anchor, but he's happy now. With Magnus.

I miss those two.

"Is Magnus coming?" asks Simon.

Izzy nods, eyes glimmering. "I can finally talk fashion with someone!"

"Oh god," he mutters.

"May the Lord help us," I joke.

The bell rings, and we head to US History. I present my project with Jace today, the one on Britain during World War II. I'm feeling kind of crappy about having to look like I don't hate Jace in front of a bunch of teachers, but I wonder briefly if presenting with a guy I hate (and the fact that I tutored said guy) would earn me bonus points.

A girl can dream, right?

I'm too shy to ask, though, so I suck it up and do the Britain thing with Jace, and the teacher beams at us the entire time. I think it's her way of saying she loves me and the way I'm acing this and making Jace ace it. People acing makes for a happy teacher, after all.

After school, I feel exhausted. I don't know why. Izzy drops me off at my house with the promise of texting me when she's not too busy being bothered by Max with pointless questions, like why their dad is so mean and why things can't go back to the way they used to be and why his dad kissed other girls when the only one he should have been kissing was his mom. It breaks my heart when Isabelle tells me that he's been speaking like that, but I know it just annoys her. She's not good with feelings.

My mom has been in my room. I can tell because the curtains are drawn apart and the sun makes my room look lighter than it did before. Since Jace is at practice, I leave my curtains as they are and attempt to do homework.

However, I realize two things: 1) I have the urge to look at his room and see if he's left a part of the old Jace, the one I knew, lying around, and 2) I'm still exhausted. So I close my window and shut the blinds and will myself to take a nap, even though my thoughts keep me awake.

Let me know what you think! I'll be updating on Sunday. :)