*All the characters from The Mortal Instruments belong to Cassandra Clare and her incredible mind. Nothing will ever be owned by the author of this story. ;)*

Songs:

The Scientist- Coldplay

A Modern Myth- 30 Seconds to Mars

I'm afraid you won't enjoy . . . ? x)

~Chapter Twenty~

Great, she thought sarcastically.

She felt bad. More than bad, actually. She understood why well enough, but she never thought she would feel like this.

Heartbroken she had been when her mom and Jonathan died, but . . . This was different. She felt different. She felt limbless, as if someone had come and jacked her up, leaving her empty. With nothing.

"But he had no reason to say that!"

She groaned and rolled over on her bed. Her face landed on the pillow as she yelled onto it. She hadn't cried; she didn't need to. Yelling, she tried to see if anything, anything came out. But nothing did.

Knock, knock.

She rolled over again, her back hitting the mattress. Sighing, she took a breath.

"Yes?" she called out. The door opened and Luke came in. He sat on the edge of the side of her bed carefully. He took off his glasses wearily, folding them neatly in his hand before looking down at her.

"Clary?" he said questioningly. She sighed.

"I'm fine, Luke."

"I want to know what happened," he demanded in a clear voice. There was no anger, sadness or anything in his voice. Clary looked at his familiar blue eyes, but, unfortunately, she couldn't find it in herself to tell him.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "One thing led to another. Sooner than the sun coming out, it ended." She sucked in a breath as she said it.

It ended.

He put his hand on her arm in a comforting manner. Se smiled at him sadly and he returned it.

And that's when it happened.

She felt the stinging on the back of her eyes as her throat closed up. Her vision fogged up with tears. One fell down her cheek lovingly. That's all it took for the rest to fall.

Luke gathered her in his arms and held her tightly as she cried on his shoulder. Sobbing, she felt the relief of it coming out in waves. She felt lighter, but not at all better.

"Clary, it's going to be okay," he murmured into her hair. "This happens in relationships all the time. You just have to talk about it. In the heat of the moment, you both said things that you didn't want to tell each other. You can't let that break you two apart." Clary shook her head.

"No, Luke. You don't und—" Luke pulled back to look her in the eyes.

"I understand more than you think. I am the one with more than four decades of experience." He looked down at his lap and took a deep breath. "Remember how bad it hurt us when we heard about your mom and John?" Clary's eyes widened at the pain that flashed through his eyes. She felt the tugging in her stomach that she always felt when she thought of them. She nodded. "Okay, now remember that girl two weeks before that? Remember her smile? Her light?"

Clary was at a loss of words. Her throat was closing up once again. She looked from one of Luke's eyes to the other. Luke nodded.

"I didn't see that girl ever again," he paused, "Until Jace came into the picture. And not only Jace, but Isabelle too." She opened her mouth to speak but he interrupted her. "You changed a lot for the better. I don't want you to go back to your shell. Ever again, for that matter."

She looked at her stepfather. He had been there for her billions of times, and there he was again. Offering him a small smile, she nodded while she wiped her tears away. Luke smiled.

"Go wash your face," he said, leaving. She nodded again. "How about a Dukes' night?" She turned around with a stunned face. Back when Jonathan was alive, Clary, Luke, and he would watch the whole Dukes of Hazard movies at least once a week. Obviously, they hadn't that since his death.

"Yes," she said, smiling brighter. "I think I'd like that." She sniffed with a small laugh.

"Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream?" He asked over his shoulder.

"Yes, sir!" Replied Clary with a smile.

A few minutes after Luke left, Clary decided to go wash her face like Luke had suggested. Walking across the hallway, she entered the room flooding the room with light instantly with the switch.

Refusing to look at the mirror, she began by splashing water on her face. Cold water. Scrubbing her cheeks like if that would somehow erase the night's memories, she finished. Once she was done drying herself, she looked in the mirror.

Her dress was wrinkled now and she had already discarded her sweater a long time ago. She looked at her uncovered arms, which had goose bumps from the contact with cold water. Then she finally looked at herself. Her eyes weren't really that puffy since she just cried for a little while, but it was a bit noticeable. Her nose was red from all the sniffing while her hair looked like a big red mess.

Sighing, she grabbed an elastic hair band and gathered her head to the top of her head. Satisfied with her look, she sat down on the toilet seat and put her head on her hands. Since she had never been in a relationship, she didn't know what it would feel like for it to end. Or come to a pause . . . Or whatever Jace and she were going through was.

Why is tomorrow Monday? she asked to herself.

Shaking her head, she got up and started walking towards the door. Looking to the side for a moment, she caught her reflection once again.

"I didn't mean half of the things I said," she said, her voice hoarse. "I really didn't," she repeated in a whisper.

Gazing back at the white bathroom door, she felt a stinging begin at the back of her eyes. Laying her forehead against the cool wood, she sighed shakily.

"Oh, Jace . . ."

o.8.o

"I knew you'd be down here."

He turned around towards the door where Isabelle stood shrouded in shadow. Jace relaxed his stance and started catching his breath.

"What do you want?" He asked, and he knew it sounded harsh. Isabelle didn't seem to mind. She shrugged.

"You tell me."

He narrowed her eyes at his sister. "What did you hear?"

Her eyes widened. "Well, nothing. I was downstairs with Alec when she came thundering down the stairs to ask Luke if they could go home. Her face was void of emotion, and I immediately knew something was up."

Jace sighed. He walked over to where Isabelle was standing next to the stairs. He sat down on one of the bottom ones. She followed suit. "How did you find me?" She grabbed her hair and pulled it over her shoulder.

"There are only a few places you would be after a confrontation," she began. "One; playing basketball, but your ball was in your room. Two; playing your guitar or something, but your guitar was also in your room. And lastly; well, the basement with your punching bag." She pointed at it with a sigh.

"I didn't even know we still had old Frankie. It's surrounded by all this junk." Isabelle stifled a laugh.

"Oh, Frankie," she said with a grin. Jace wanted to smile with her, but he couldn't. Isabelle noticed.

"How the hell did you manage to piss Clary off? I mean, I try all the time! It's almost impossible!" She had tried to ease off the tension of Clary's and Jace's argument, but it was impossible.

"I didn't just piss her off. I think we . . ." He sucked in a breath. "I think we broke up." Isabelle's eyebrows shot up.

"What? B—but how?" She asked, hysterically.

Jace looked over both his shoulders. "Well, let's just say—Iz, you can't tell anyone I told you. Not even Clary. Scratch that, especially Clary—I've heard her cuss only twice." He looked around the room, expecting Clary to come out of somewhere. He couldn't help feeling a tad bit disappointed when she didn't even if he knew it was highly improbable. "And she was more than pissed both times."

Isabelle frowned. "Did she cuss at you upstairs?"

Jace scratched the back of his neck. "Sort of . . . Right after I said something I shouldn't have. But, Iz, I don't want this. And I know she doesn't either. I want to fix it."

"Then do so. If she didn't say 'it's over', or 'we're done', then you're good." Isabelle half-smiled.

Jace's mouth twitched. "What about 'fuck you'?" Isabelle's eyebrows practically disappeared.

"She said that?" Jace nodded wordlessly. Isabelle stared laughing and Jace immediately frowned at her.

"What the hell, Iz?"

"This would be amazing blackmail if you hadn't told me I can't tell her." She pouted.

"Yeah, yeah. Too bad." Isabelle nudged his shoulder with her own.

"Cheer up! You'll fix it tomorrow, yeah?" Jace's mouth turned up slightly.

"Yeah. I will."

o.8.o

Drama. Humor. Gold. Drama. Action. Horror. Gold. New Release. Gold. Gold Fami—

She took her stack of Drama DVD's and began walking towards the Drama aisle. Skateland. Walking towards the S's on the aisle, she sighed. Ever since she was eleven, she always imagined what it would be like to finally work at Blockbuster.

Amazing. Titles. Movies. Previews. She would think. And best of all? Free movies!

Unfortunately, those were not the thoughts on her mind as she re-shelved movies. Her thoughts were actually more depressing than that.

Monday afternoon. She had thought it would've actually been better. Having an apology memorized, she had walked as confident as she could to school.

Turns out, you can try as hard as you can to memorize something, but once you are in front of that person, what comes out of your mouth is more than completely different to what you had in mind.

Again? she thought as she raced towards her first period.

Her teacher was still outside, but he looked ready to close the door on her face. Teacher's pet or not.

She sped up immediately, actually running down the hall. Mr. Nelson saw her and frowned . . . Or at least she thought so. His face seemed to be in a permanent frown.

"Ms. Fray," he greeted scornfully. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood. If not I would've given you detention for running down the halls."

"Thank you, Mr. Nelson," she said, desperately trying to not roll her eyes. He nodded and held the door open for her as the bell rang.

She stood just inside the class, catching her breath. She opened her eyes to stark walking towards her seat when she noticed that the seat next to her was empty. Her eyebrows shot straight up.

Swallowing loudly, she sat down on her seat and turned on the computer. Just as she was about to start working on their assignment, the King of the moment came in.

Clary peered over her monitor. He looks good, she thought, which was basically her first thought whenever she saw him. She frowned as she realized that, even though he did look good, there was something different. Narrowing her eyes, she noticed his hair looked messier, as if he had run his hands through it over and over again. She almost gasped out loud at the purple bags under his eyes. Bags that were identical to the ones under hers.

She touched them unconsciously as she saw him passing Mr. Nelson a tardy slip. Jace didn't even wait for Mr. Nelson to give him back his tardy slip. He just went directly and sat on his chair, looking at the floor. Never, not even once, glancing at her. All of the built up willpower seemed to deflate.

She sucked in a breath quickly and began working. She could feel the eyes of freshmen looking at her. Looking at them both. They knew something was up. Clary and Jace had been coming into class together for the past two weeks.

Clary would glance at Jace every so often, but he looked so immersed to his reading that she almost didn't believe him. He was making it harder for her to grab the courage and talk to him.

Sick of his game, Clary grabbed a piece of paper from her notebook.

What the hell is up with you? she wrote and passed it to him. He seemed to barely glance at it before writing on it.

I am not understanding what you are asking, he had written down. Clary's eyebrow almost rose up.

Jace, I don't want to be one of those cliché couples, okay? Just because we had a fight doesn't mean I don't want you in my life.

He took his time reading that one. Clary could almost bet that he browsed it thrice. Finally, he wrote something down and passed it to her.

Are you serious about that?

Clary didn't really understand what he meant by that.

Yes, Jace. Of course I want you as my friend, she wrote.

Clary watched him carefully. His eyebrow rose and his lip twitched, but not in a smile. He wrote something down fast and basically pushed the paper at her.

Sorry, Clare. I don't want to be friends.

She felt the knot on her throat tighten. Crumpling the note on her hand, she grabbed her backpack and began walking to the door. Mr. Nelson and Jace both stood up at the same time.

"Ms. Fra—"

"Clary! I didn't mean it like th—"

Clary ignored Mr. Nelson completely and glared at Jace. "Save it."

After that, Clary had definitely been ignoring Jace throughout the entire day. She had wanted to fix things, but he didn't want to. She would just have to go on with her life . . . As hard as that sounded.

She just didn't understand what had changed on one night. When she had been in his room the night before, she had seen the regret of what he had said.

Bloody hypocrite, she thought British-ly.

"Hey, Clary! Calm down!" Hands covered hers as she noticed that she had been slamming the DVD's onto the shelves. She looked up to see Nate's friendly brown eyes looking at her with concern. She let out a nervous laugh.

"I'm sorry. I didn't even notice I was doing that." Nate smiled.

"Don't worry about it. So what's got you all worked out?" His eyes twinkled and she felt like she could tell him anything.

"Just . . . Jace," she answered truthfully, re-shelving once again. He frowned.

"Trouble in paradise?" He asked. Clary turned her head with a glare fixed for his mocking, but saw that he was being completely serious. She dropped her eyes.

"I wouldn't even call it paradise actually." His eyebrows seemed to disappear into his headline.

"Did you two break up?"

Clary looked up at him and realized she honestly didn't know. She shrugged. "Maybe yes, maybe no. Not even I know." Nathan frowned.

"When was this?" He took Clary's stack of DVD's and began stacking them himself. She sighed.

"Either yesterday or today," replied Clary in a small voice as she stared at her shoes.

"No lo creo! I'm so sorry." Clary nodded at his apology, not really in lecture mood to tell him she could care less about pity. "Mira, how about we do something."

She lifted her head with a frown. "What do you mean?" He half-smiled and ran a hand through his blonde hair.

"Let's grab a movie we both haven't seen. One that looks bad. Really bad. And then we take one that sounds like it could be immensely entertaining and we watch them." By the time he finished, he was grinning.

"Today?" She asked uncertainly. "On a Monday?" He shrugged.

"We could just watch one movie today since we get off at eight."

Clary thought about it. Actually processed it through her head. Isabelle said she wanted to talk to her today, as in phone call. But that could always wait after a fun movie night with a person who she barely knew. A brand new, fresh person she could actually learn from. He seemed to want to help her truly.

Looking up at his brown eyes, she found herself nodding.

"Okay, then," she said with a smile. "One today, tomorrow the other."

He grinned. "Deal!"

:] EEP! THIS IS CHAPTER TWENTY! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! :D I felt soo happy when I actually finished this! (Just ten minutes ago.) We may be close to the ending, but not too close yet. ;D

camibandlover gave me an extension of one day because we've had a lot of homework and stuff. So . . . Not what you guys were expecting but *shrugs* I can't do too much. xD

I want to thank my amazing anons who are just plain amazing! :D I wish I could talk to you guys and tell you how awesome you guys are! :D

Thanks to BlondeHairBlueEyes14 for . . . Everything? xD This chick up there ^^ Cams, who is just weird in general and is bugging me about this AN and talking about hot Adam from Secret Circle. o.O Haha! And 07XReflectional who is such a procrastinator that hasn't been able to read the last Black Ace update. o.o Lmao! :D

TRANSLATIONS:

"No lo creo!" — I can't believe it!

"Mira," — Look.

ONE MORE THING: Guys, would you mind reading my other story, Black Ace? It's rated M and has sexy grown up Jace and normal grown up Clary . . . and has Jace as well! :D I will love you forever!

So, guys, would you mind sending your thanks to Olivher, my amazing iPod, for keeping me connected to my personal agenda? ;D (Meaning Camille) The only way to do that is to . . .

Review? :D