CLOCKWORK PRINCESS CAME OUT. AND IM DYINGGGGGGGGGGG AS I READ IT. SO MANY FEELS. WILL. TESSA. JEM. EVEN GABRIEL LIGHTWOOD.

Chapter Fourteen

"You guys are so pathetic," I grumble as Aline and Raphael face off in a mad game of crossword puzzles. They're competing to see who can finish the fastest, and Aline's face is furrowed in concentration. Meanwhile, Raphael leans back, hands linked behind his neck, face fixed in a smug smile.

When Aline hadn't appeared outside my fourth period English when lunch began, I had had a strong suspicion she would be here, in the library, with none other than the famous Raphael.

It was a miracle of sorts. I'd tried dragging her to the library countless times, to no avail.

"Clary, come help me!" She wails in frustration. "Raph is kicking my ass!"

"Shhhh!" The librarian hisses, shooting Aline daggers. Aline rolls her eyes, causing Raphael to choke, and urgently waves me over.

"So, Snobby English Nerd," she says, "help me. What's a seven-letter word that starts with 'I' and means 'evil sex demon?'"

"Incubus," I say automatically.

Raphael shoots me a look of surprise. I make a face. I'm in eleventh grade honors English for a reason.

"A ten-letter word that means 'sexual interest or lustfulness,'" Aline barks at me again. "It starts with 'L' and ends in 'ous.'"

"Lascivious," I say, after thinking for a few seconds. "What the hell is wrong with your crossword?"

"It's a sexual crossword," Raphael says, his cheeks tinged with a faint shade of red.

Sexual what?

I had no idea those even existed.

"O-kay," I say slowly, backing away from their table. "I think I'll leave you two to have fun with your little sex game."

Raphael splutters, turning red. The last thing I see as I walk out of the library, laughing, is Aline flipping me the bird.

…

"That will be a total of $4.50," the lunch lady says as she sticks her hand out for my money. Subduing a sigh, I fork over my five dollar bill and grab my food. It's just mac n' cheese with chocolate milk.

Such a ripoff.

I maneuver around tables filled with laughing students, only to find that some freshmen have taken over my usual table. Aline, probably still flirting with Raphael, hasn't arrived yet, and I'm too tired to sum up enough energy to kick the little kids out of my seat. Instead, I sink down into the nearest table. Aline can find me anyway. When she's done with Raphael, that is.

I've just stuffed a forkful of the disgusting, gooey food into my mouth when a snarky voice sneers behind me, "You're in my seat, you piece of dipshit."

Simon tosses an apple in his hand.

I glare at him with hatred, my lip curling in disgust. "Didn't last time teach you a lesson?"

"Ooh," he smirks. "Ginger's getting angry. Did you not hear what I said? Get. Up. And. Fuck. Off."

I place my fork down, ready to leave, but red-hot defiance rages through me at those words. Why should I listen to him? I'm not meek. I'm not an animal he can boss around. I've suffered too much from him, and I shouldn't give him any pleasure from it.

I cross my arms and sit back down. "Make me."

It's moments like these that get me in trouble. Maybe I didn't learn from last time either.

The memory of sticky, fizzing soda washes over my skin, but I push it back, forcing myself to forget it.

Simon's eyes fly wide with shock and fury.

Oh, shit. What did I just do?

His eyes narrow menacingly. "Oh, I'll make you all right. And this time, where's your precious little Jace going to be?"

"I don't need him to protect me." But even as I snarl those words, a feeling of terror makes me want to sink into the ground. Jace and the whole soccer team are away from school today, preparing for the big game he invited me to.

Jace isn't here.

"You're screwed," Simon cackles. "No one's going to come save you today."

He laughs, bending down in my face. His breath reeks of garlic and rotting vomit, and those tiny, beady eyes burn into mine. I see my reflection in his glasses, all red and angry.

"So go on," he jeers. "Scream for help. Cry for Jace. You're precious, little Jace Wayland. It makes me sick just to think about the two of you. What did you do to get him so wrapped around your finger? What favors? What dark, dirty secret are you hiding?"

"I bet he's going to rip out my guts when he comes back," he says, "but I'm not scared. Nothing scares me now. If I want to hurt him, I'll aim for where it'll hurt the most. You." He smiles. "It's like killing two birds with one stone."

I'm trembling so hard with both anger and terror that I grab onto the edge of the table to keep steady.

"Do it, Clary. Scream for him. I dare you. Don't be so pathetic."

And just like that, I hit him. My fist flies up and punches him directly in the eye with all the anger I've kept pent up within me.

Simon rears back, screaming. His hands clutch blindly at his eye. Tears stream down his face as he looks up at me from his knees.

All hell breaks loose in the cafeteria as students rush to see the commotion, climbing on tables, pushing aside others, just to see this spectacle. Me, punching Simon.

It makes me sick. This whole thing makes me sick.

Even if I've dreamed about punching the living daylights out of Simon, I never wanted to see it in reality. I can't believe I did this. I can't believe I've just physically assaulted another student.

This isn't who I am, or who I want to be.

That's why, when Principal Starkweather calls me to his office, I say without hesitation, "Suspend me."

Oh no…

REVIEW PLEASE! Jace will be in the next chapter, I promise:)