Disclaimer: I don't own the Mortal Instruments or any of the characters.

Jace POV

Game Day. It's what hockey players live for; the days where all your hard work finally pays off.

I wake up in the morning feeling refreshed and ready. Normally, I'd be sore on a Friday, but with the hockey team winning the Beep Test Competition, I didn't have fitness last night.

I—as per usual—wake up before Simon and take a quick shower. By the time I'm done, Simon is waking up.

"Man, do I feel good." He says, stiffling a yawn.

"Tell me about it. It makes me dread fitness tomorrow." I say with a sigh. Plopping down on my bed, I look up at the ceiling.

"I hope Sebastian is taken off starting lineup this game." I say out of the blue. I really hated that guy...he didn't even deserve to be on starting lineup. "I bet Robert could replace him." I say, suggesting the best defense substitute.

"What do you have against him?" Simon says, in a tone I had't heard my friend use before.

"Firstly, he plays with too much bias. He never passes to me." Simon gives me a laugh.

"Maybe because you're never open." My jaw drops—which shouldn't be possible when I'm lying down on a bed—and I turn to stare at Simon.

"You did not just say that." Accusing me I'm not open is one of the most hurtful things a forward could say to another forward in hockey. "I am too open. Don't even deny it." Simon sits up on the edge of his bed, rubbing his temples, clearly annoyed with my antics.

"Sorry, fine, I didn't mean it, okay? It's just...maybe we're too hard in Sebastian."

"And why the sudden change of heart for the guy who should win Dick of the Year?" I look at Simon, incredulous. Simon gives me a shrug, but I can tell he wants to say something.

"I dunno...maybe he just has trouble expressing his emotions?" Simon asks carefully.

"Don't give me that crap." I say flatly. "Why?" Simon sighs, then looks me in the eye.

"Because maybe, Sebastian is decent enough to win over a girl, and I think if he can win over this girl—specifically—he should be good enough to befriend." Needless to say, Simon had though about this for a while. I turn my head upward and stare at the ceiling once again.

Wait. Sebastian won over a girl. Who's opinion mattered to Simon.

I bolt upright and don't bother to even try to lower my voice, "Sebastian asked Clary out?"

Simon, not showing any expression gives me a sad shrug.

"What can you do about it?" He says, as he gets up to go shower.

"Wait! So she said yes?" I ask him, and I can't help but clench and unclench my fists...I needed to punch something. Someone. Specifically someone's face.

"No, she told me yesterday she hadn't gotten a chance to see him, with fitness being just skaters and no classes with him," this causes me to relax, "but she's planning on telling him before the game." After that, Simon heads into the bathroom, clearly conflicted on whether or not he should've just confided into me.

I slump back into my pillow. Clary and Sebastian...I guess I should've seen it coming. I place a hand on my stomach, feeling a gnawing feeling develop at the pit of it; worry. Despite myself, I grin. Of course you're worried, Jace, I think, for both Clary's heart, and your own.

Clary POV

"No." I say with conviction, silently congratulating myself at being able to keep eye contact with the dark haired boy in front of me.

"What?"

"No?" I say again, though as a question this time, my confidence suddenly draining out of me.

"No?" Sebastian asks again, as if he hadn't heard me the first time.

"No. Sebastian. No. I cannot go out with you." I give him a sad smile, hoping he'll understand.

"May I ask why?" I stare at his wide eyes. Maybe it isn't a good idea to tell him now, of all times. He does have a game in half an hour. No, Clary, you said the first chance you got, you'd tell him. Right, I had promised myself that. It wasn't very convenient, either, to pick a time—though clearly my decision making skills were lacking as right before a game was not the smartest choice. However, it was the first chance. Apart from fitness—in which Sebastian had missed the past two times due to the hockey team's winning—I didn't really get a chance to talk to him alone. Until now.

"Clary?" I snap my head up, realizing I had been staring at my feet silently, when I should've been giving Sebastian an answer.

"I need to focus on my skating." I say flatly. "I can't go on dates when I have nationals to focus on." Sebastian gives me a laugh, something that is the last thing I would expect him to do.

"You've got to be kidding me." He says, looking up at the ceiling. "That's your excuse? I'd at least expect you to try." I gape at him, not understanding what Sebastian's saying. "Come on, do you like another guy? Is it Ja—"

"I do like you." I cut Sebastian off before he can say Jace's name. "I mean, yes, I do want to date you..."

"Really? Because your lame excuse really doesn't show it." I feel my eyes start to sting, and I force them shut, not letting myself seem weak.

"Why are you being so mean?" I ask him softly.

"Tell me why." Sebastian replies, sternly. I bite on my bottom lip. I had been expecting a 'sorry' from the guy. Guess not. The problem was, I had told Sebastian why. Why won't he believe me? Why is he being so cruel?

"I did. I need to focus on skating."

"Clary, stop giving me that crap."

"Fine, if you don't believe me, I tried. Bye." I say, stalking off.

"Is it because I checked you?" He says, and I stop and turn around.

"What do you mean?" I ask, curious. Why would it matter that he checked me? He had apologized afterwards anyways.

"Because I checked you. That signifies I'm a better skater than you. You're jealous, aren't you." He says, smirking. I gape at him, not sure how to respond. Do I contradict him? Of course he's a better hockey player than me. But, as I replay his voice in my head, I realize his arrogant demeanor as he said those words, and I could tell they were far from friendly.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I reply, "Simon was right about you. You really are a cruel douche." As the words leave my mouth, I feel the attraction I had once felt for Sebastian leaving my body too. He raises an eyebrow at me—possibly sensing that I no longer liked him.

"You've got to be kidding me. Simon? That little dickhead? You're listening to him? Come on! He ditches you every single fitness session to talk to his group of social friends. I actually gave up my social life to talk to you."

"Gave up your social life?" I ask, my voice faltering.

"Sorry to break it to you," He says with an evil grin, "But would you rather me be like Simon? Not talking to you? Probably thinking you're a loner who needs to get a life?" My eyes sting again and this time, it's from more anger than hurt.

"Simon is a better friend than you'll ever be."

"Your evaluation of friendship must be screwed up then. At least I actually hang out with you. Clearly, that's gotten me nowhere." It's gotten you onto my good side, Sebastian, too bad you tossed it away within a matter of seconds.

"Just because you don't see us talk doesn't mean we don't." I say, knowing that my retort is weak.

"Yeah, of course he talks to you. God, I don't see why you're even friends with him!" Sebastian starts to rant, and I can tell he's changing his focus from myself to Simon. "He doesn't deserve to be captain of the hockey team! I'm just as good a defenseman as he is a forward! Besides, how do you even consider him a good friend? How crazy do you have to be?" For some reason, the confidence I had in the beginning of our talk comes back to me—I assume due to the fact that it's easier to defend a friend than to defend yourself. Walking up to Sebastian, my hand makes a wide arc and before I know it, there is the sound of a sharp crack resonating through the air. I had slapped him.

Sebastian, holding the side of his face looks up at me as I grin happily.

"Simon is a thousand times better than you in every. Way. Possible." I say with gritted teeth. Then, turning on my heel I walk back towards my dorm. Although I feel sad—and know I'm going to start crying when I get back to my dorm—the feeling of accomplishment of defending my best friend outweights my melancholy at the moment.

Looking over my shoulder, I see Sebastian, still standing at his dorm's doorway, watching me leave.

Jace POV

I feel adrenaline coursing through my veins as I line up my stick and take a shot. The puck, as if under my control, follows the exact path and sinks itself into the net. Point, Jace, I smirk as I skate back to the team, currently standing in a line.

We are warming up for the hockey game, and our team is as pumped as ever, ready to beat our opponents. I can feel that today is my day, and that this game is going to go well.

"Nice shot." Simon says, looking over his shoulder at me.

"Thanks."

"What? No, 'ha, ha, I beat you'? No, 'you stink Simon'? Where's your competitive attitude?" I give Simon a shove and roll my eyes.

"You seriously can't just take a sign of gratitude without being annoying, can you?"

"It's a gift." He retorts back to me.

"More like a curse." I reply.

Looking up, I watch Jordan speed up the ice, doing some fancy footwork and fakes, and then shooting. For some odd reason, I feel as if there's someone missing.

Quickly realising who it is, I turn to Simon and ask;

"Simon, where's Sebastian?" Saying his name with as little venom as I can muster is hard. I still do not understand what Clary sees in him. No matter how good an actor he is, there is no way he's good enough to hide what a dick he is. Yes, yes, 'it's just the jealousy talking, Jace, he could actually be a nice guy,' or so Simon says, but I don't believe a word of it. I can already see Sebastian hurting Clary, and I don't want to be watching uselessly, not trying to stop it.

"Hmmm," my roommate responds as he looks around, "There he is." I look to where Simon's pointing and see Sebastian coming on the ice.

I swear I see Sebastian take a glance at me, and although I can't make out his face underneath his helmet I get a weird feeling in my stomach from the emotion shown on his face. What was it? Anxiousness? Regret?Penitence?

"Huddle!" I hear Simon yell from beside me. Everyone slowly gathers around us, preparing to listen to our captain's new instructions.

When Sebastian joins the huddle, I can finally see his face clearly. What I see fills my body with anger; on Sebastian's face lays a fresh hand mark, courtesy of a slap to the face. Immediately I know what happened; Sebastian said something mean to Clary, and she got mad. Looking around, I see other teammates sneaking glances at Sebastians face during Simon's lecture.

Right, I'm supposed to be listening to the team captain…what was Simon saying again?

It seems that Simon has finished as everyone parts ways and sets up our defensive drill. Instead of going where I should, I follow Simon to where he is running the drill.

"Simon! Tell me you saw that mark on Sebastian's face too." I hiss at him. Simon fidgets with his fingers, looking down worriedly at them.

"I know, I saw." He says quietly.

"And…"

"I know, Jace. You're worried about Clary." Simon continues to stare at his gloves, unwilling to elaborate further.

"Simon, what are you going to do about it?" I say as loudly as possible, without getting attention. "Clary's probably somewhere crying! She's your best frie—"

"What can I do?" Simon suddenly raises his volume, silencing me. "Sorry." My roommate says, lowering his voice significantly. "Look, I'm team captain, I can't just walk out because my best friend has teenage drama." Scratching his head, Simon looks over at me.

"What are you staring at me for?" I ask, wondering if perhaps Simon is contemplating getting me to check on Clary.

"Can you—and would you like to—check on her?" He asks, confirming my suspicion. Both happy and worried about the outcome, I don't know how I should respond to Simon.

"Jace, if you want, we still have thirty minutes until we have to meet in the changeroom, you know." I clench my fist together, still unsure. "You don't have to, but I can tell we're both worried about her—because of different motives, but nevertheless, both the same feeling. Trust me, I would go, but Coach would kick me off the team for ditching."

I suck in a breath, still unsure. Simon had read me correctly; I am worried about Clary—and Coach wouldn't notice if I left—but what if Clary gets mad? What if I hurt her more?

"I'll go, cover for me, kay?"

"Don't worry," Simon says, patting me on the back, "just hurry up."

I change out of my skates in record time, and head to the dormitories. Running along the hallway leading to the girl's dorms—where I assume Clary is—I can't help but watch out for teachers.

I guess I should be glad that fate has let me check on Clary, but I can't help but feel Simon would do a better job.

Raking my memory, I find the dorm that I had went to to pick Isabelle up for the Christmas dance. With a soft knock, I await Clary's response.

Sadly, no response comes.

Tentatively, I turn the doorknob and open the door to find Clary sitting in her bed, her arms wrapped around her knees.

She looks up at me, and I can tell I'm definitely not her favourite person in the world right now.

All she does is watch me as I make my way across the room and seat myself on the floor—I didn't want to make her bed stinky with my hockey gear. Also, it's her bed. A moment of silence passes between us and I can tell Clary's just finished crying from her red eyes.

Finally deciding to break the silence, I say, "You were expecting Simon, weren't you?" Clary gives me a quiet laugh.

"Maybe just a little." Thus, ending our scintillating conversation. I try to study her, when she isn't watching me, calculating whether or not she wanted to talk, or for us to remain silent. Deducting that she was anxious, I decide to start another conversation, and finish what I came here to do.

"Are you okay?"

"What makes you think I'm not?" She asks me, looking at the wall behind me.

"Well, for one thing, Sebastian's face looks terrible and unless you slap guys on a regular basis, I'm guessing he pissed you off on a pretty bad level." Clary closes her eyes and rests her head on her knees. Clearly, what I said hadn't helped. Good job, genius. Say something helpful, I say silently to myself.

"Look, sorry." I let the statement hang in the air for a while, as I think of what to tell Clary next.

"You deserved better." I look up at Clary as I say this, hoping to make her feel better. Wow, you really suck at this Jace.

"No. I didn't. I actually liked the guy too, until..." Clary trails off, looking at me. Then, with a halfhearted laugh, she shakes her head. "Why in the world am I telling you this?"

"Because I am an amazing listener." I say, grinning at her.

"Sure, you are." She says back, in what I believe, a better mood. Pausing, she looks down at my gear. "Shouldn't you be warming up for a game?" I give her a shrug.

"Well, if I had to pick between hockey and you, I'd go for you." I say, and I can see her cheeks turn red.

"Wow. That's actually an improvement from your normal snarky comments." She says, moving to the edge of her bed—and closer to me. I feel my heart jump with joy as she moves, though of course, Clary would never understand what she just did meant to me. I give her a laugh, and shrug my shoulders.

"You give me too little credit. I'm actually a very sweet guy." Clary rolls her eyes at me, and I start to wonder why she's suddenly being so nice to me.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" She asks. Exactly what I was thinking, I say to myself.

"I'm naturally kind and generous..." I give her my signature smirk, and see her give me a small smile. Turning serious, I look in her eyes. "But, seriously, I was worried about you...I wanted to check on you after Sebastian showed up to warmup..." I say, and I can see her face darken at the mention of Sebastian. Good job, as always.

"It's fine." She says quietly. "Besides, why would you care?" Because I care about you, I think on the inside. On the outside, I give her a shrug.

"Well, I mean, I..." At a loss for words, I give her my backup answer. "Simon sent me." I say flatly, hoping that solves things.

"Ah." She replies. I can't help but see her joy leave her face. Wait, was that because I had admitted I didn't come voluntarily? I can't help but feel a little hope for my chances with Clary.

"Anyways, you should probably go to your game, right?" Clary asks me.

"Uh, right..." I say, getting up. "Thanks for reminding me."

I start to open the door to leave, then turn around. "Do you wanna come and watch?" I ask, hoping for her to say yes.

"Nah..." She says, trailing off, and I suspect she is thinking of Sebastian.

"That's okay," I reply quickly, hoping to take her mind off the guy. "Next time." I say with a smile as I close the door and sprint towards the rink.

Isabelle POV

"Here you go Isabelle" Ms. Jones says as she hands the booklet back to me. I tentatively hold the stack of papers. This is my math exam. This mark determines whether or not I skate.

"It's okay, Iz, just flip it over." Simon says from my side.

"Easy for you to say, Mr. Math Wiz." I retort, taking a look at his exam. Damn, he got a 98%. On his exam.

"Izzy." Simon presses again. This time, when I don't flip it, Simon grabs my hand, taking me by surprise. "Don't make me do it for you." He says with a twinkle in his eyes. Instead of thinking about my math mark, I'm suddenly focused on the warmth of Simon's hands. The callouses lining his palms from holding a hockey stick, signifying his dedication to his sport, are pressed up against the back of my hand.

"Izzy. I'm going to flip it, okay?" Simon asks, clearly unaware of my reaction to our contact. Right, Izzy. Focus on the paper. Math. Giving my desk partner a nod, he flips my exam over and I stare at the mark.

Ninety. Five. Percent.

"Nice!" Simon says, offering me a high five. However, I ignore it. Practically tackling him over his seat, I give him a tight hug, taking him by surprise.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" I yell into his shirt.

"Whoa, no problem, Iz." He says patting my back. I'm immediatley aware of Simon's noticeably rock hard muscles underneath his sweatshirt. Pulling myself away, I force the heat in my cheeks to go away.

"I'm just...really happy I get to keep skating." I say, sheepishly. "So, thanks again."

"Any time, Iz." Simon says, ruffling my hair playfully. Instead of getting mad like I normally would, I dodge his arm and roll my eyes. It wouldn't hurt to be a bit nicer to Simon, right?

"Izzy, come in." I'm standing at Coach's office door, awaiting for her signal. She had called me in here, for reasons she hadn't shared yet.

As I enter I look to my side and see another person in the room. He looks at me, and gives me a curt nod. Cocking my head to the side, I study him. He is undoubtedly dressed in skating wear. The problem with that is, there were no guys who skated at Alicant. The boy has spicky hair, and eyes that...just seemed to remind me of a cat's. Weird.

Taking a seat opposite to Coach, I cross a leg over the other, and wait for her to explain why she called me down.

"So, Izzy, I called you down here today because I have some big news."

"Mhmmm?"

"Well, as you may know, the figure skating program at Alicante has been strictly girls. This has been due to the lack of male applicants."

I nod, telling Coach I am following her so far.

"However, we have just received an ecceptional new applicant," Coach says, nodding towards the boy in the corner. I can't help but turn my head again, even though I already know what he looks like.

"You see though, this young man's discipline is Pair's Freeskate, and from what I understand, you did pairs at your old club, before Alicante." Wait...is Coach suggesting what I think she's suggesting.

"Wait, Coach, so you want me to..." I turn my head to look at the boy again. He gives me a charming smile, clearly amused by the conversation.

"Well, Izzy, you are the most qualified." Leave it to Coach to flatter someone until they say yes.

"So, say I agree, will I still be able to do singles?" Coach gives me a nod, as if the answer is obvious.

"Of course, you'll just need to work harder—which I have no doubt you'll be able to do." She pauses, probably giving me time to think. "So?" She asks eagerly.

Sighing, I give her a grin. "I'll do it."

"Great. Well, I assume you would want to get to know your partner. I have an errand to run so, I guess you guys can exchange names. I'll be right back." Giving us each a nod, Coach gets up from her desk and leaves me and the boy alone.

"Cool! So, I'm Isabelle Lightwood, but you can call me Izzy." I say happily, jumping out from my seat and sticking out my hand. The boy laughs, giving me an intruiged look.

"I don't think I've ever met a teenager who shakes hands." He says. Although there's no cockiness in his voice, I can't help but blush and slowly put my hand down. "Hey," he says abruptly, "I never said it was a bad thing."

Sticking out his hand and offering it to me, he gives me a wide grin. "Name's Magnus Bane. Nice to meet you Izzy."

Author's Note

You know what's really funny? The fact that I haven't gotten more requests for Clace on any chapter before the most recent one. It's as if you guys are psychic because the Clace starts in this chapter. Happy, are you not?

Another piece of good news is that with the story building up, chapters are going to be longer.

So, I hope that makes up for the giant gap between my updating this chapter. I really do have an excuse—I seem to have a lot of those—I got a new computer so I had to first install everything and transfer all my files. Also, the fact that I had exams and summatives were a pain.

Did you guys have exams? Were they a pain? Let me know in a review!

And, of course, until next time!