Hi, guys! I wish I could've uploaded this earlier, but we had some technical difficulties while editing and whatnot, so yeah. Happy 4th of July! (Even though I don't like that holiday. Oh well. I still hope you're celebrating it with your families and friends and having a good time!) Thank you so much to the lovely Katwood5 for beta'ing this and doing eveything in her power to get this chapter done by today. :) Thanks to greygirl2358 and IWriteNaked for their support and reassurance when it comes to this story (and another one I may or may not be working on? whoops). Anyway, you three ladies are great.

As always, thanks to all of you for reading/reviewing/following/favoriting this story. It means a lot to me that you show your support for this story. :) I hope you guys like this chapter! (By the way, we're kinda close to the end. Only three more chapters!)

Jonathan was looking at Clary in pure confusion, and something went off in her mind.

She could lie, she realized. She could pretend that she snuck into Jace's room to talk about the party and their plan. He didn't have to find out this way. Not at all. Or, she told herself, she could tell her brother the truth and hope he'd have the best reaction.

She opted for the former.

"We were talking about the party," she said. Her heart was beating like a drum against her chest. She was standing right in front of Jace's door and was speaking loudly enough that he should hear. "He was calming me down, reassuring me it'd all work out. I guess I'm a little worried."

Jon softened at that. She felt a tad guilty for lying to him, but it was definitely not the right time for her brother to find out that she and his best friend were a thing. A very real thing. "We're all a little worried," he reminded her. "Just go to sleep."

She squinted. "What're you doing up, anyway?" The bathroom light was still on, and she could see a bruise where Sebastian had hit him when they got into a fight that Monday. She wished her brother would stop trying to defend her honor and focus more on getting Sebastian suspended or something. She'd been receiving creepy stares from him all week long, and people had begun to stare and whisper at her because of the stupid rumor he'd started. School was basically hell.

He shrugged. "I went to the bathroom, and then I heard voices down the hall."

"Right." She made a mental note to be quieter. "Well, I'm going to bed."

"Night."

"Night." She headed for her room and opened her door, waiting until her brother's door had closed for her to go inside.

It was as awkward as anyone might imagine. An encounter with her brother right after she'd spent twenty minutes or so with his best friend, sometimes kissing, sometimes not, but always touching in some way. She knew it wasn't fair to any of them that their relationship was a secret, so she decided that, once the party was over, she would talk to Jace. He had to tell Jonathan. She couldn't—and wouldn't—let this relationship stay a secret. It was her last fierce thought before she lost herself to sleep.

Though she'd vowed to wait until the whole thing with Sebastian had blown over before bringing it up, Clary couldn't help but blurt out, "When're we telling Jon about us?"

Her brother and mother were out running errands (she didn't want to drive, so she coerced him into being her chauffeur for the day), and Luke was working, so it was just the two of them. They were lying down on her bed, hands touching. They were quiet; they hadn't said anything at all until Clary spoke. They were enjoying each other in that way people sometimes had to, with each of them doing their own thing. In this case, they were resting. Friday afternoons, as always, were exhausting.

She looked at Jace, who had one eye open and one closed, as if looking at her would make the question more real. "It's not," he said, "that I don't want to. It's just that, with all this stuff going on, the whole thing with Sebastian...it has him on edge. I mean, you should've seen him on Monday when he saw Sebastian. He almost beat him to death, and he got into a hell of a lot of trouble with the coach. I just…I want to talk to him when he's a good mood, and right now he's not. Ever. I think," he added as an afterthought, "it would be a lot better to tell him once Sebastian's behind bars and you're safe. Don't you?"

She nodded. "It's just—it drives me crazy, you know, how we can be in a room and I'll need something from you—reassurance or a hug or to hold your hand or something—but we can't do it because, oh, my brother doesn't know." Clary let out a breath. "You don't know how much it sucks."

"Trust me," he said in a low voice, "I do." He shook his head. "It's driving me insane, too, and though I think what we have is, you know, important, there's a bigger picture." His tone was gentle. "We have to deal with that first."

She knew he was right. Of course he was. Her brother would not take anything well until Sebastian was locked up for good. However, an irrational part of her mind was telling her that her brother would be happy for the two of them (even though most of her, the logical part, knew there was no way that was true). She sighed and rested her head against his chest, now lying down sideways.

"We'll tell him on Sunday," he promised.

"I know it hasn't even been that long," she told him. "But I like you. A lot. And I want us to be able to kiss somewhere with actual people, you know. Oh, and I'd really love to go out on a date sometime."

"And you will." He reached for her hand, their fingers intertwining. "Soon."

She grumbled; soon could not come fast enough.

"Do you have any homework?"

"You sure know how to set the mood, Jace Wayland."

She could feel his smile as he spoke. "I want you to have an excuse in case I don't have time to leave your room. We could say I was helping you with homework."

"And again, I say: I hate this."

"Come on," he said, tugging at her hand. "Homework?"

She sighed. "An essay on The Great Gatsby and symbolism."

"Perfect. I love that book."

"You do?"

"Yeah."

"Thank god," she said, smiling. "I like it, too. I've been looking forward to this assignment, but I find it so hard to concentrate now, you know?" She did not want to cry, but flashes of the last party she attended crossed her mind. That night, she hated to acknowledge, had changed her. It hadn't been in the most obvious of ways, because she could still be with Jace and not think about Sebastian, but the experiences gave her nightmares and made her nervous. Scared.

And she hated being scared.

"Hey," he said. "Are you okay? Look at me."

She buried her face in his chest, not quite looking at him. "I just want this whole thing to be over. With Sebastian, I mean. He's just..." A tear fell down. Jace stilled; he must've felt it. She sat up, finally facing him, hating how fragile she must have looked to him. She wanted to tell him that she was okay. Really, she was. She loved being there with him, but sometimes there were thoughts and images she couldn't shake off.

"Come here," he said, sitting up. He was propped up, his support being the pillows Clary kept in her bed, and motioned for her to join him there. She did, scooting so they were close enough to touch, her head resting against his shoulder. "He'll pay." His voice was tense. "He'll pay for what he did to you, and to every other girl he's hurt. If it's the last thing I do, he'll pay."

"Jace—"

"No, listen," he said. "I'm not talking about all the physical stuff he did to you, though I'll make him pay extra for that. It's because you have nightmares, Clary, and sometimes I can feel you get sad for no reason, only there is a reason—Sebastian. I hate him," he fumed, "so much. He's making you, and probably every other girl he's been with by force, feel like absolute shit."

And right then, she thought that, when her brother asked her why she liked Jace, she would remember this moment. The way he spoke about what had happened to her, and the way he felt about it. How he understood it despite her reluctance to talk to him—or anyone, because she'd been tight-lipped even with Isabelle—about it. How he felt strongly enough about her to go through all this trouble despite having only known her for two weeks. The fire in his eyes when he thought about Sebastian coming near her.

She pressed her lips to his. It was meant to be a sweet, quick kiss, and she pulled away with a blush. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"Understanding," she said with a smile. "Not many people really get it, you know?"

He smiled back. "I know. You," he said, "are very welcome."

"I can think of some ways to express my gratitude."

And just like that, she was straddling his lap and kissing him, because the feeling that they might not be able to someday hit her so suddenly that she couldn't stand it. When Saturday was over and gave way to Sunday, her brother would know, and so would her parents, and they might not be able to have this. Her lips pressed against his, his hands on her neck, tugging down gently so they could be closer. She loved everything about kissing Jace, from the familiar feeling of his hands to the way he would place soft kisses against her throat after a while. The hesitancy that had bothered her for so long was gone, though she could tell that he was still being careful; he just didn't voice it. She didn't let it bother her. She broke the kiss, needing air in her lungs, and smiled as their foreheads pressed together.

"I like you," she said. "So much. I'll never get tired of saying it."

He opened his mouth to speak, but, just then, they heard the front door open. They panicked. She ran a hand through her hair to look presentable and dashed to look for her computer; it was under a pile of papers stacked messily on her desk. She flipped it open, typed her password, and opened a new document, all while Jace smoothed himself (and the bed) out, opened the door, and appeared to look casual.

"The green light," he started to say, "and its distance, it all symbolized how Gatsby was simultaneously close and far away from the love of his life—Daisy. It also symbolized, basically, how he was that way with everything he wanted. He would always want more than what he had."

"Hey, guys," said Jon. "What're you up to?"

"Gatsby essay. We take the same class, but with different teachers, so he's helping me out."

"But you know that book. Like, a lot."

"I was lazy and slightly bored," she said with a shrug. "And I wanted to make sure I was right about the things I knew."

Jon nodded. "Right." He turned to Jace. "Wanna go play soccer?"

"Sure," said Jace. "We're pretty much done with the symbols and stuff."

"Thanks," she said to him, and then the boys were gone, and all she had left was the sentence he'd recited to her like a line from a script and a smile on her face she could not wipe off, no matter how hard she tried.

Isabelle and Simon showed up at about ten o' clock, after her parents had gone to bed. It was a Friday night, but she couldn't remember how long it'd been since the two of them had been home that early at the same time.

"Can we stay over?" Izzy asked.

"We figured it was better. Party and all," Simon added.

She shrugged, letting them in. "Sure."

"Do you have food?" he asked Clary, and Izzy smacked his shoulder.

"We just came back from a date," Isabelle said, "and this guy had the great idea of carrying the popcorn, despite his obvious clumsiness, so he spilled it, obviously, and we didn't have any more money—nor were we hungry, to be honest—so we had to watch a movie with no popcorn." She glared at him.

"What do you guys wanna eat?" Clary asked, and they made their way into the kitchen.

Twenty minutes and a lot of arguing later, Simon and Isabelle sat on the couch, eating grilled cheese sandwiches. They were a lot like children, Clary thought, and she smiled.

Jonathan made his way into the house. He'd been at Kaelie's house, doing who knows what, though Clary didn't want to tease him because, for all she knew, he could have been helping her out.

"Are we having a slumber party?" Jon asked, eyebrows raised. Of course, at that exact moment, Jace chose to walk downstairs and into the living room.

"Did I hear slumber party?"

"Shut up," Clary said, rolling her eyes.

"I'll go get the nail polish. Jon, you get the pillows."

"You guys are dorks," she piped up, grinning.

"Oh, I'm dead serious," Jace said to her. There was a glint in his eyes and a grin on his face, and she had never wanted to kiss him as much as she did in that moment. She wanted to do so carelessly, like Izzy and Simon did, almost as an afterthought.

"Bring the nail polish, and I'll do your nails, then," she challenged him.

Jon spoke up. "I know where she keeps it. We'll be back," he warned, and then the two of them dashed up the stairs.

"You two," Isabelle said, "are so into each other."

"Duh," she pointed out, smiling. "We wanna tell Jon on Sunday, after the whole thing with Sebastian blows over."

Izzy nodded. "Good idea, too. Right, Simon?"

"Totally, babe."

"Babe?"

"I was trying it out." He shrugged.

"Don't try it out again. Ever."

Clary smirked at the two of them. "You two make me wanna throw up, and you're commenting about my relationship?"

Just then, her brother and Jace returned. The former was holding up silvery nail polish, while the one Jace was holding was hot pink.

"You guys are the most ridiculous boys ever."

"I'm sure enough of my masculinity to go through with this," Jace stated.

"Me too."

"Alright, then," Clary said, grabbing the nail polish from Jace's hands. She saw Izzy do the same with Jon's. "Let's do this."

Half an hour later, after many complaints from the boys, their nails were finally done. Clary had gone upstairs and brought back a coat of glitter for Jace's nails, so they looked absolutely fabulous. Simon served as the judge, and Izzy shot daggers at him when he declared that, although Jon's nails were the most neat-looking, Jace's were the most fabulous looking.

The entire time, they were sure not to be too loud. Her parents, after all, were sleeping upstairs. But she almost yelped when Simon pronounced the verdict. It felt like a small victory. Besides, she loved Jace's fabulous nails, and she would never, ever, ever stop teasing him about them.

When that victory happened, she had another one of those moments, the ones she had when she wanted to kiss him no matter what, because it felt like the natural thing to do. The fact that she couldn't was enough to dampen her mood, but, to her surprise, Jace locked eyes with her, shrugged, and lifted her off her feet, pressing his lips to her in a way that made everyone shut up and stare.

Let me know what you think! See you next Friday. xo