Disclaimer: I am not Cassie Clare, nor did I write the Mortal Instruments nor do I like avocado. Basic facts.
A/N: So... hi guys. Me again. I hope you have all had a lovely holiday period, whichever religion you do or do not follow. And to all those who don't identify with any religion but had fun anyway- me too! Anyway, now that's out of the way, here's the next chapter. It is relatively short but it seemed like a good place to end it. Please do feel free to let me know what you think... **Wink wink, nudge nudge**.
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Jace's POV
"What's got your knickers in a twist?" Isabelle demands, plopping her jean-clad butt on the seat next to me. "And, please Christ, don't tell me it's that girl." I turn my head to glare at her.
"What is your problem with her exactly?"
"I have many problems. Clary ain't one of them." My sister informs me, shrugging, apparently not clued in by my time. "However, she is apparently one of your problems. That makes her irritating."
"Jesus Izzy. I'm not five. I can handle my own issues."
"Well apparently not. You've been moping and staring off into the middle distance for three days."
"I have not." I sulk.
"Now I'm not opposed to the occasional bout of dramatics. I have even been known to have those myself."
"You shock me."
"However this," She waves her hand at me. "Is just plain pathetic."
"This is honestly none of your business Isabelle."
"What happened between you two?" Izzy continues, ignoring my attempts to shut her up. "Because all I can see is a girl who has caused a heap of damage for no particular reason whatsoever."
"That's not-"
"No, think about it. One day, she's totally normal. And the next she's off doing a 'feel sorry for me' act, making the whole frigging school depressed while she's acting like she's the only one feeling bad. Am I the only one who thinks that's just incredibly selfish?"
"Isabelle, you don't understand-"
"Is that what she told you? So you'd shut up and walk away and let her feel sorry for herself?" I don't reply to that question, too shocked to do so. My sister smiles like a cat with cream. "Exactly. And if I'm not letting you get away with it, why are you letting her?"
"Because her issues are a lot more complicated than ours."
"Really? For some reason I doubt that." I start to reply, but she cuts me off. "They may be bigger, but not more complicated. A problem is a problem- but it's not an excuse to hurt people and it's not an excuse to be a bitch."
"It's not as simple as that." I try again.
"Okay, you big idiot, let me put it this way- if it was me or Alec or… I don't know… Will acting this way, would you let us get away with it?"
"Well-"
"Precisely. So snap out of it. Get her off that pedestal." And with that, my sister stands up and heads to the dining room. "Mum says dinner is in ten minutes."
Clary's POV
A week passes after what I call the 'Jace Incident' and life at school goes back to its lonely, boring self, life at home continues to be as crappy as it always has been and- well basically it's shit.
I throw myself back into my art, sketching every time I have a spare second, my fingers constantly stained with charcoal. My art teacher seems to find this new 'level of emotion'- her words- completely fascinating. She tries to convince me to branch out with new mediums but I stubbornly stick with charcoal- the harsh black lines cutting through the paper suit my mood.
It's easier to burrow inside my head, not pay attention to what's going on outside me. It makes it simpler to convince myself that I'm not missing out on anything. But sometimes, I'll catch a glimpse of one of my friends as they go to their next class or sit under their tree at lunch and I wonder what's going on with their lives, what's happened since I've left.
Sometimes our eyes will meet and I have to duck my head to avoid the questions in their eyes. It's always the same- that pained, confused look, and I walk away yelling silently to myself in my head, throwing accusations at myself.
As I sit outside on one of the benches hugging the wall, I gaze up from my sketching periodically to watch my friends sitting under their tree. Magnus lies on the grass with his head in Alec's lap, even if Alec has not stopped blushing since he perched himself there. Cat seems to be bossing Ragnor around about something. Maia and Jordon are, predictably, making out and staring into each other's eyes. Isabelle and Cecily are having an apparently extremely exciting conversation. Simon is sorting out Pokemon cards and everyone else is chatting.
Apart from Jace who seems to be zoned out.
His forehead is held in his left hand, elbow pointed on the table. With his right hand, he is tapping randomly on the table top, his eyes staring blankly on his fingers.
He must sense me looking at me, because the next thing I know, his eyes have connected with mine.
I don't know what to do. Do I smile? Do I look away and pretend it didn't happen? But before I can figure it out, Jace decides for me.
At first, he looks pained and confused, but then his face changes. Out of nowhere, his face hardens, his mouth flattening into a straight, harsh line. But what scares me are his eyes; the molten gold always swirls and burns, showing all his emotions plainer than words on a page. But suddenly, they're rigid and cold, like the gold has unexpectedly been chucked into water, turned frozen and hard and dull.
And then Jace narrows his eyes and glares at me.
My eyes widen in shock and- frankly- fear. But before I can say anything or make a gesture, Jace shakes his head in what looks like disgust, and turns away from me.
Jace's POV
Since my little talk with Isabelle, I have been thinking about what she said. And you know what; my annoying, uptight, irritating, baby sister is right.
Please don't tell her I said that.
It has taken me a while to figure this out- more time than it probably should have- but Isabelle was right when she said the Clary is being selfish. Even when I had that conversation- if you could call it that- with her in the library, it was all about her, about how she was protecting us, about how we wouldn't understand her problem.
I've noticed the way she moves now, the way she always makes sure that we can see her during lunch, the way she makes sure that there is eye contact whenever we pass her in the hallways, and honestly, now that I think about it, it almost seems like she is doing it on purpose. The entire time she was talking to me in the library, she wanted people to forget about her. So how exactly are we supposed to do that if she won't let us?
Sitting in the third history class of the week, I lean as far away from Clary as I possibly can, for the first time ever wishing I had picked one of the un-showered blokes to sit next to at the start of the year instead of the petite redhead.
As Mr Starkweather badgers on about this or that or something, I notice Clary frantically searching through her pencil case, pulling out stick after stick of charcoal but no pens. Finally she sighs and turns to me.
"Can I borrow-" She whispers. I slam a pen onto her open notebook before she can finish her question and search my pencil case for a spare. I don't reply and don't turn my head to face her, even if half a minute later she is watching me with a funny little frown on her face. I curse my peripheral vision.
After class I pack my books and pencil case up quickly, snatching the pen back as Clary shyly hands it to me. I get out of that room faster than I ever have, ignoring her as she calls out for me.
There's something I never thought I'd do.
Clary's POV
I don't understand why Jace is so mad at me. I don't understand what I did wrong.
He glared at me at lunch and now he won't even look at me. I don't get it.
I run after him into the hall after history class and almost lose him in the crowd. His legs are so much longer than mine, he moves so much faster than me, but finally I catch him, laying a hand on his shoulder. He shrugs it off.
"Jace, what's-"
"Not now Clary. I'm extremely not in the mood. It's amazing how not in the mood I am."
"I- I don't understand." I stammer.
"I'm ignoring you Clary. Or trying to. Isn't that what you want?" He growls, finally deigning to look at me, And I see in his eyes anger, almost fury. But something else. Something I can't put my finger on.
"You're mad at me." I finally reply, not knowing what else to say.
"Well no shit, Sherlock!" He suddenly yells, throwing his hands in the air. Other students slam their heads down and keep walking, not wanting to get involved. "What was your plan Clary? Honestly? If you were going to push me away anyway, what was the point of getting me to care about you? Was it all some game to you?"
"No, Jace, I didn't- it wasn't-"
"You know, I genuinely thought you were different." He tells me, glaring at me with those awful empty eyes. "I thought for once I had met a woman I could have a decent, relatively long term relationship with. Or at least a friendship with. But then you just-" He pinches the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger and lets out a self-deprecating laugh. I stare at him, unable to say a word. "Clearly, I have terrible taste in women."
"Jace, I didn't mean to- I just- I thought- I thought you'd be better off without my drama, is all. I just thought if I stayed away that-"
"Oh shut up!" Jace suddenly looks angry again. "If you wanted us to forget about you, if we were better off without you, why do you sit every day on that bench?"
"What?" I question.
"You think we don't see you? All depressed and staring off with that yearning look?" He demands, taking a step towards me. "What exactly do you expect us to do, Clary? Do you expect us to feel guilty as you sit there?"
"No, no, I just-"
"Then what? Because how are we supposed to forget you if you're in our faces every single fucking day?"
"I guess I just didn't think about that." I admit, not liking the way he is pointing all this out. Guilt and shame swirl in my stomach.
"You didn't think about that. Of course you didn't." When I look at Jace again, he looks almost disappointed. "Forgive me if I think that basically means you're acting like a self-centred bitch."
"Lightwood!" We hear a stern voice exclaim, and we turn to see Magnus marching towards us, looking more serious that I have ever seen him. "Back off, go to class."
Jace looks at me one more time before shaking his head and continuing down the hall, turning a corner and moving out of sight before I can say a word. My eyes connect with Magnus' and I feel like there's so many unsaid words hanging between us, forming an even bigger rift between us.
"Thank you, Magnus." I finally say, turning my head away and wishing I still had hair to hide behind.
"Just because I defended you, Biscuit, doesn't mean I disagree with Blondie's statement." My eyes widen in surprise. "Take a good long look at yourself and make up your mind." With those final words, Magnus turns and walks away, leaving me alone in the hall, my mind swimming in confusion.
Jace's POV
"Mum, can I ask you a question?" I ask from one of the chairs around the kitchen island. Mum is sorting out some paperwork, looking tired and worn out, but when I ask her for something, she still looks up and smiles at me. It takes her a few seconds for her to zone out of what she was doing before she replies.
"I encourage it." She tells me simply, placing her black pen down and giving me her full attention.
"Well, there's this girl at school: Clary. And we were getting pretty close recently, until one Monday she came to school and she wouldn't talk to anybody. Every time I tried to reach out to her she just ran away from me."
"Do you know why?"
"I've got some ideas. But a little while ago, I convinced her to talk to me and then she said she couldn't be around me or any of us and that we were better off without her." I try to explain quickly, not wanting to dwell on anything. "But the thing is, even though she doesn't sit with us anymore, she still sits in a spot where we can see her and I feel like she just wants us to feel bad for her, to get sympathy. And so today I kind of… well we had a fight and I said some terrible things. It wasn't even really a fight; it was just me yelling but…"
"So what's your question?" Mum asks, knowing I don't want to focus too deeply on that fact.
"Do you think it's wrong for me to be angry at her when she's clearly got something going on?"
"No." My mum decrees.
"But I-"
"Jace, let me tell you a story. My dad had what we now know is depression." My mum interrupts. "You never knew him- he died when Alec was a baby- but he was a strong man. He fought every day. Except sometimes, it would get too tough for him and he would slip and his depression was more noticeable. Sometimes those slips would last for months, a couple of times they lasted a couple of years. And he would say horrible, terrible things, things that hurt me and your uncles and your grandmother, but he didn't realise that he was even doing it."
Mum sighs, and I can see her falling back into her memories. "One day, I came home from a friend's place and I found him crying at the kitchen table. I put my arms around him and told him it would all be okay. And he told me he had never had one good day, not one." My eyes widen as I notice tears in my mother's eyes. "And I just got so angry, I just snapped. This slip had been going for about three months, and I was so sick of him saying things like that, I was so sick of him feeling sorry for himself, and then feeling guilty for being angry with him. And so I yelled at him.
"I yelled at him that how dare he say that? He married my mother; he was there at the birth of all his children; he was there at my graduation from high school. How dare he say that he hadn't had one good day?" Mum runs a hand over her face. "It didn't get better right away but he eventually got a bit better again. He still said terrible things from time to time but he always apologised afterwards because he knew that I had a problem with it."
Finally, Mum smiles again and I relax. "My point is, Jace, we're all human. We all have emotion and it's okay to express that. It's okay to be angry, so long as you don't physically hurt someone. This girl has hurt you and other people, it sounds like. It's okay to be angry about that, and it's okay to show it. Sometimes anger is good, because the other person realises that they have upset you and they need to change their behaviour, like my dad did. I wouldn't worry about it. It kind of sounds like she needs a kick up the arse anyway." I chuckle, surprised, and grin at my mum.
"You have a point."
"Of course I do, I'm fabulous." I shake my head fondly. "Now go do your homework."
"Yes Mum." I mock.
"That doesn't work as well when I am, in actual fact, your mother."
"I realise." I grumble, before standing up to kiss her cheek. "Thanks Mum."
"No worries. Hey Jace?" I turn just before exiting the room.
"Yeah?"
"Are you okay?" And without thinking, I give the reply everyone on the planet hates.
"I'm fine."
A/N: So thoughts? We had some Lightwood Girl Power going on there, you like?
Let me know.
Have fun, say hi, REVIEWW!
Love Stormy. xoxox