Hey guys, here's a really fucking long chapter to make up for my lack of updates. I'm sick right now, so it sucks. Really long A/N at the end too.
Can someone write some twisted book based on a child's book, like 'The Boy Who Cried Penis' or 'Skank White and the Seven Dicks'? Just a question..I think I took too many meds this morning anyways. Oh and hope everyone had a nice spring break. Cheers!
This isn't really a happy chapter, just saying.
*I OWN NOTHING*
~11~
Friday night I was running late for work at the bar. Izzy had decided to cook us dinner and it had turned into an unsalvageable disaster. We'd ended up eating out and losing track of time as we fell into deep discussion about our work—Izzy's research and my art. Izzy had gone home to bed because of an awful headache that had come on suddenly, and I hurried to the bar. I shot Maia an apologetic look as I passed through and into the staff room. I was just shoving my things in my locker when my cell rang.
It was Magnus. "Hey, hon, can I call you back on my break? I'm late for my shift."
Magnus sniffed down the line. "Okay."
My heart stopped. Magnus was crying? Magnus never cried. We never cried.
"Magnus, what's going on?" The blood pounded in my ears.
"I broke up with Alec," his voice cracked along with my belief.
I thought Magnus and Alec were solid. Unbreakable.
Fuck.
"What happened?" Oh God, had he cheated on him?
"He proposed."
Silence fell between us as I tried to understand what he was saying. "Okay. He proposed, so you dumped him?"
"Of course."
What was I missing? "I don't get it."
Magnus growled. Actually growled. "How can you of all people not get it, Clary? That's why I'm phoning you! You're supposed to fuckin' get it!"
"Well I don't, so stop yelling at me," I snapped, a pang radiating in my chest for Alec. He adored Magnus. He was his entire world.
"I can't marry him, Clary. I can't marry anybody. Marriage ruins everything."
And it suddenly dawned on me we were entering our no-go area. This was about Magnus's parents. I knew they were divorced, but that's all I knew. It had to be something deeper, something worse, for Magnus to turn her back on Alec. "He's not your dad. You're not your parents. Alec loves you."
"What the hell, Clary? Who the fuck is this and what has she done with my friend?"
I paused. Maybe I was spending too much time around Izzy. She was rubbing off on me. "Fair enough," I mumbled.
Magnus sighed in relief. "So you think I've done the right thing."
"No," I replied honestly. "I think you're scared shitless. But from one scared shitless person to another, I know no one's going to change your mind."
We were silent, just breathing down the phone to one another, feeling that connection between us, that relief that there was someone else out there just as messed up.
"Have you thought about the reality of this, Magnus?" I finally whispered. "Alec with someone else I mean?"
A choked noise crackled down the phone.
My heart broke for him. "Magnus?"
"I've got to go." He hung up. And somehow I knew he was hanging up to cry. We never cried.
Feeling a deep melancholy settle over me, I texted him to advise him to really think about things before he did anything he'd regret. For once, I wished I wasn't so broken, so Magnus had a best friend who was strong and not afraid to love, to hold up as an example of what was possible. Instead, I was his excuse that he wasn't being irrational. I was his enabler.
"Clary?"
I glanced up over at Jordan. "Yeah?"
"A little help, please."
"Oh sure."
"You fancy a quick shag after work?"
"No, Jordan." I shook my head, following him out, too depressed to even banter with him.
.O.O.O.O.O.O.
Sunday rolled around before I knew it, and I was so preoccupied with my book and with Magnus, who kept avoiding my calls, and too afraid to talk to Alec in case he put another crack in my heart with his heartache, that I didn't have a prayer's chance in hell of coming up with an excuse to get out of dinner with Izzy's family.
Instead I was bundled into a cab with Izzy, dressed in celebration of the hot day in my Topshop shorts and a pretty olive-green silk camisole. We took off and stopped literally five minutes later outside an apartment that looked a lot like ours.
Inside, I was unsurprised to find the Lightwood's home very much like ours too. Huge rooms, high ceilings, and a cozy collection of clutter that reminded me a lot of Izzy. Now I knew where she got it from.
Maryse Lightwood greeted me with a very French kiss on either cheek. Like Izzy, she was tall and beautiful in a delicate way. For some reason I'd been expecting a French accent, even though Izzy had told me her mom had moved to New York when she was four.
"Izzy's told me so much about you. She said the two of you have become fast friends. I'm so glad. I was a little worried about her when she said she was taking on a flatmate, but it's all worked out nicely."
I felt like I was fifteen again. Maryse just had that mothering way of talking down to you. "Yeah, it has," I answered congenially. "Izzy is great."
Maryse beamed, looking twenty years younger and very much like her eldest daughter.
Next, I was introduced to Robert, a kind of non-descript, dark-haired guy with glasses and a sweet smile. "Izzy says you're a artist."
I threw Izzy a wry smile. She told everyone I was a artist. "Trying to be."
"What do you do for art?" Robert asked, handing me a glass of wine.
We had congregated in the sitting room while Maryse checked on something in the
kitchen. "Everything. Right now I'm working on a comic series"
Robert's eyes widened fractionally behind his glasses. "I love comic novels. You know, I'd be happy to read it before you send it off for queries."
"You mean, beta-read it?"
"Yes. If you'd like?"
Remembering that Robert was a college professor and was used to grading papers, I was secretly really pleased by his offer. I gave him a small smile of gratitude.
"That would be great. I'd really appreciate it. Of course, I'm nowhere near finished yet."
"Well, when you are, just give me a shout."
I grinned. "I will, thanks."
I was just beginning to think I'd make it through this particular family dinner when I heard kids' laughter.
"Dad!" a young boy's voice carried down the hall towards us, and then its owner appeared in the doorway. Running toward Robert, the small boy's face was lit up with excitement. I guessed this was Max, Izzy's ten year old half-brother. "Dad, look what Jace got me." He thrust a Nintendo DS and two games in Robert's face.
Robert looked at them, smiling. "Is that the one you wanted?"
"Yeah, it's the latest version."
Looking up at the doorway, Robert clucked his tongue in mock disapproval. "It's not his birthday until next week. You spoil him rotten."
I jerked around, my palms instantly sweating at the sight of Jace standing in the doorway with his hand on the shoulder of a miniature version of Izzy. The teenager was huddled close to him, her thick bangs and short haircut exceptionally stylish for such a little thing. My eyes didn't linger long on the mini-Izzy, who I deduced was Cecily. No, they slid up over Jace, drinking him in before I could stop them.
Attraction burned through my blood.
Jace was wearing black jeans and a grey t-shirt. It was the first time I'd seen him in something casual, the first time my eyes had access to his strong biceps and broad shoulders.
I felt a throb between my legs and looked quickly away, hating that he did this to my body.
"I know," Jace answered. "But I didn't want to have to spend another Sunday afternoon listening to Max chew my ear off about the damn console."
Max just giggled, his triumphant gaze dropping to his game as he flopped down at his father's feet and started loading in a Super Mario Bros game.
"Look what I got?" Cecily smiled shyly, holding up something that looked like a credit card. God, I hoped it wasn't.
Robert squinted at it. "What is it?"
Cecily's eyes brightened. "A really big gift card for the bookstore."
"Nice." Izzy grinned back at her, holding out her arm to her. "What are you going to get?"
Her little sister rushed towards her, snuggling into her side as she dropped onto the couch. She flicked me a shy smile before looking up at Izzy. "There's a new vampire series I want."
"Cecily's a bookworm," his gravelly voice explained right above my head.
I turned to look up at Jace standing beside the couch, looking down at me with nothing but a friendly smile. Although a little disconcerted by his changed attitude, I found myself smiling back at him. "I see." A swarm of butterflies awoke in my stomach and I flinched inwardly, looking away from him. It never occurred to me Jace would be attending dinner, although it should have, considering Izzy had made it clear he was a big part of her family.
"Did you thank Jace?" Robert suddenly asked his kids, drawing my attention to them and away from the sex on legs beside me.
A couple of mumbled 'yes'' answered the question.
"Cecily, Max, this is my flatmate, Clary," Izzy introduced me.
I smiled at them both.
"Hi." Cecily gave me a shy wave. I felt my chest squeeze at how adorable she was.
"Hey." I waved back.
"Do you like Nintendo?" Max asked, pushing his glasses back up his nose. I could tell my answer would either make us or break us.
"Oh yeah. Mario and I go way back."
He gave me a cheeky grin. "You have a cool accent."
"So do you."
That seemed to please him and he quickly returned to his game. I think I passed.
Robert patted Max's head. "Son, put it on silent, please."
Almost immediately the familiar sounds of Mario quieted and I decided I liked these kids. Reading between the lines, I guessed Jace spoiled them, and looking around the home it didn't seem as if they lacked for anything, but they had great manners, just like Izzy.
"Jace!" Maryse came shuffling into the room, a huge loving smile on her face. "I didn't hear you come in."
Jace grinned down at her and enveloped her in a tight hug.
"Did Robert get you a drink?"
"No, but I'll get myself something."
"Oh, no, let me." Robert stood up. "Lager?"
"Yeah, thanks, sounds good."
"Have a seat." Maryse shuffled Jace down into the armchair on my right as Robert left the room. She settled onto the arm of it and brushed Jace's unkempt hair off his forehead. "How have you been? I heard you and Kaelie broke up."
Jace hadn't really crossed me as the type who liked to be 'mothered' but he just sat there, seeming to enjoying Maryse's attention. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles affectionately. "I'm fine, Maryse. It was just time, that's all."
"Hmm," she answered with a frown. And then, as if remembering I was there, she turned to me. "You've met Clary, haven't you?"
Jace nodded, a soft, almost secret smile, curving the corners of his lips. Still, it was friendly, not sexual, and I didn't know whether to be happy or disappointed by that.
Stupid hormones. "Yeah, Clarissa and I have met."
I felt my brows pull together. Why did he insist on calling me Clarissa?
The frown soon disappeared as Robert returned and conversation gained momentum. I did my best, answering their questions and reciprocating, however I was never so grateful for Izzy. She came to my rescue when her mom started asking questions about my parents, deflecting the questions easily from me to Maryse, and I sighed with relief at having escaped having to be outright rude. I thought I was doing okay. I even managed to exchange friendly, non-sexual banter with Jace.
Then we moved to the dining room for dinner.
There was just something about the laughter, all the talk and noise, as we settled around it, helping ourselves to potatoes, veg and gravy to eat with the generous servings of roast chicken Maryse had put on our plates. As I poured gravy over my dinner, their chatter, their affection, the warm normality triggered the memories…
"I invited Chase and Annabelle for dinner," My mom said, putting out extra place settings. Cherry was over for dinner since we were working on a school project together, and my dad was settling baby Jon into his high chair.
Dad sighed. "I'm glad I made plenty of chili—as it is, Chase will probably eat it all."
"Be nice," Mom admonished with a small smile on her lips. "They'll be here any minute."
"Just saying. The guy can eat."
Cher giggled beside me, shooting my dad an adoring look. Cher's dad was never around so my dad was like Superman to her.
"So how's the project coming along?" Mom asked, pouring us out orange juice.
I shot Cherry a secretive smile. It wasn't coming along at all. We'd spent the last hour gossiping about Ash Riles and Jude Jeffrey. Mostly we just kept saying the word 'Jude' like 'Juuude' and giggling like idiots.
My mom snorted, catching the look. "I see."
"Hey neighbors!" a big bellyful of joy called out as Chase and Annabelle opened the French doors, stepping inside without knocking. It was okay. We were used to their overfamiliarity since they were our only neighbors in spitting distance of the house. My mom loved their overfamiliarity. My dad? Not so much.
After a lot of greetings—Chase and Annabelle were incapable of saying 'hello' just once—we all finally settled around the kitchen table with my dad's famous chili.
"Why do you never cook for me?" Annabelle complained to Chase after moaning a little inappropriately at her first taste of dad's chili.
"You never asked."
"I bet Jocelyn never has to ask Luke to cook, do you Jocelyn?"
My mom threw dad a wide-eyed plea for help. "Um…"
"Yeah, that's what I thought."
"Dad, Jon's dropped his juice." I nodded at the floor.
Since he was closest, he reached down to pick it up.
"My dad never cooks," Cher put in, trying to make Annabelle feel better.
"See," Chase mumbled around his chlli. "Not just me."
Annabelle scowled. "What do you mean, 'see'? As if another man not cooking for his wife somehow makes it okay for you to not cook for your wife?"
Chase swallowed. "Fine. I'll cook."
"Can you cook?" Mom asked softly and I heard my dad choke on a piece of chili.
I hid my giggle in a swallow of orange juice.
"No."
Silence descended around the table as we all looked at each other and then burst out laughing. Jon squealed at the noise, his tiny hand hitting his juice and sending it flying again, which made us laugh harder…
That memory was followed by another memory of a Christmas dinner. Thanksgiving. My thirteenth birthday…
The memories triggered a panic attack.
First my head grew fuzzy and I quickly lowered the gravy boat from my now trembling hand. The skin on my face tingled and cold sweat seeped from my pores.
My heart was speeding so hard behind my ribcage I thought it might explode. My chest tightened and I struggled to breathe.
"Clarissa?"
My chest rose and fell rapidly in shallow breaths, my frightened eyes searching for the voice.
Jace.
He dropped his fork, leaning across the table toward me, a frown of concern between his brows. "Clarissa?"
I needed to get out of there.
I needed air.
"Clarissa… Christ," Jace muttered, shoving back from the table, intent on coming around the table to help me.
Instead, I shot out of my seat, holding my hands out to stop him. Without a word, I turned and raced from the room, running down the hall to the bathroom where I slammed inside.
Shaking hands pushed up the window, and they and the rest of me were grateful for the rush of air that blasted over my face, even if it was warm air. Knowing I needed to calm down, I concentrated on slowing my breathing.
A few minutes later my body and mind came back to itself and I slumped onto the toilet seat, my limbs all jellified. I felt exhausted again. My second panic attack.
Great.
"Clarissa?" his voice rumbled through the door.
I closed my eyes against it, wondering how the hell I was going to explain myself.
Embarrassment warmed the blood in my cheeks.
I thought I was over this. It had been eight years. I should be over it by now.
At the sound of the door opening, my eyes cracked open too, and I watched as a concerned Jace stepped inside and closed the door. Briefly I wondered why he had followed me and Izzy hadn't. When I didn't say anything he came closer, dropping slowly to his haunches so we were at eye level. My eyes searched his gorgeous face and for once, I wished I could break my own damn rules. I had a feeling Jace would be able to make me forget everything for a while.
We gazed at one another for what seemed like forever, not saying a word. I was expecting a lot of questions since it must have been clear to everyone, or at least the adults at the table, that I had had a panic attack. Surely, they were all wondering why, and I really didn't want to go back out there.
"Better?" Jace finally asked softly.
Wait. Was that it? No probing questions?
"Yeah." No, not really.
He must have read my reaction to his question in my face because he cocked his head to the side, his gaze thoughtful. "You don't need to tell me."
I cracked a humorless smile. "I'll just let you think I'm bat-shit crazy."
Jace smiled back at me. "I already knew that." He got up, holding a hand out to me. "Come on."
I looked at his proffered hand warily. "I think maybe I should just go."
"And I think you should have some good food with some good friends."
I thought of Izzy and how warm and welcoming she'd been to me. It would be an insult to walk out of her mother's dinner and I found myself not wanting to do anything that would alienate Izzy.
Taking Jace's hand tentatively, I let him pull me to my feet. "What will I say?" No use pretending to be cool and collected with him now. He'd already seen me at my most vulnerable. Twice.
"Nothing," he assured me. "You don't need to explain yourself to anyone." His smile was kind. I couldn't decide what smile I liked more. This one, or the wicked one from before.
"Okay." I took a deep breath and followed him out. He didn't let go of my hand until we reached the dining room, and I refused to acknowledge the bereft feeling in my chest as his touch fell away from mine.
"Are you alright, honey?" Maryse asked as soon as we walked into the room.
"A little bit of sun stroke." Jace waved Izzy's mom off with reassurance. "She was out in the sun too long this morning."
"Oh." She turned her motherly concern on me. "I hope you at least wore sun screen."
I nodded, sliding into my seat. "Just forgot to wear a hat."
As their conversation picked up and the tension drained from the table, I ignored Izzy's suspicious glances and shot Jace a grateful smile.
There is chapter 11! Here is the note: I would like to clear up a few things.
First off, there is a major difference between constructive criticism and being rude. Remember, flames are used to bake cookies. If you have to PM me to say shit about my writing instead of reviewing, grow up please and put them out there for the world to see, you dipshits. I'm not being ungrateful for those who point out my mistakes but there is a certain point where I just say shut the fuck up.
Second, many may not realize but I am probably younger than most of you. I am only 15 and I'm trying to juggle my sports and school, as well as keeping you guys happy with the updates. But please also be considerate and remember that I write for fun and when people come in and are saying 'fuck this story is shit' or demanding an update, it is quite a turn off. If you really don't like it then why are you reading it? Also, making comments about how Clary is being a wanton and everything because of her reactions, JEEZ did you not realize from the rating that this would be sexual? Remember just because I am young doesn't mean I don't have experience. Sure I am not fucking old, but that doesn't mean I don't know anything about sex. If you know what I mean...so ya.
And third, I do not own a lot of this story as I mentioned in chapter 1,2 and 3. Many of these ideas are from other books that I read, songs that I listen too or advice my friends give me. BUT I do think it is fair to reply and accept the reviews when I put in an idea of my own and someone else likes it. If you reviewed and didn't get a reply back, don't be offended. It just means that I did not come up with that idea myself. And yes this is legal. I checked.
Lastly I just wanted to thank those that have been so fucking supportive, I really appreciate it! You guys sure know how to make me feel better.
If you have any questions regarding this just PM me:)
~dustangel
