Hi, guys! I'm so sorry that this update is so ridiculously late. I wanted to update sooner so, so badly, but the page wouldn't load for me, so the lovely spikeyhairgood is doing me a favor in updating MS for you guys while I figure out what the frick frack is wrong with the site (it may have to do with the internet I'm connected to, since it's the university's, but I'm not sure). Anyway, yeah! I've also been really busy, because I moved into my dorm on Sunday and have been running around doing things, so it's been hectic. I'm in a policy meeting as I type this, but I hope you guys are doing okay. Thanks to IWriteNaked for beta'ing, and to my lovely friends, DeathCabForMari, LuckyAsLockhart, and clarissadele for being so great. I don't know what I'd do without all five of you ladies.
I hope you guys like this chapter!
We take a chance from time to time
And put our necks out on the line
And you have broken every promise that we made
And I have loved you anyway
Took a fine time to leave me hangin' out to dry
Understand now I'm greivin'
So don't you waste my time
Cause you have taken
All the wind out from my sails
And I have loved you just the same
We finally find this
Then you're gone
Been chasin' rainbows all along
And you have cursed me
When there's no one left to blame
And I have loved you just the same
And you have broken every single fucking rule
And I have loved you like a fool
"Like A Fool" by Keira Knightly
This is it.
My last first day of high school.
As usual, my friends and I eat at Java Jones before class. We follow the routine of going to the assembly, getting our schedules, finding out where our lockers are, etc. As I walk to homeroom, I look down at the slightly crumpled piece of paper in my hand.
Homeroom: Mr. Hastings (again)
AP European History
AP Spanish
Snack
Environmental Science
Gender and Literature
Pre-Calculus
Lunch
AP Psychology
College Preparatory Course
I walk into the too-familiar room that belongs to Mr. Hastings during homeroom period. I sit down in the back, as per usual. Isabelle doesn't have homeroom with me this year, and neither does Simon. Sebastian doesn't either. Same with Maia. I'm kind of all alone here.
At least I hope so.
Because the alternative is that a familiar boy whose eyes I can't look into anymore walks in here. And he sits down. And we stay seated, and my heart breaks. I don't think I can handle that.
After my fight with Jocelyn, I stayed at Sebastian's for two days. I sent Luke a message, telling him that I was staying with a friend and that I couldn't go back. I didn't tell Izzy to cover for me. I didn't even tell Izzy what was going on until a week after the fight. I mean, she had all that crap with Simon to deal with, even though they're back together now, so yeah.
Things with my mom went back to normal quickly. That's just the way she is. For two weeks, I felt a little sick looking at her, but everything is okay now. Thinking about it hurts. Thinking about how she just does these things—how she has always done them—without feeling a little bit of regret is slowly killing me. So I choose not to. I focus on the one thing that matters this year: getting into college. Getting out. Out of my home and out of her life.
But it's hard. Which is why I need to be alone, as opposed to with Jace, during my homeroom period. Because his mere presence makes me feel like crumbling, and people who get things done are always so together.
When the bell rings, indicating the beginning of homeroom, and Jace doesn't show, I let out a sigh of relief. I'm alone. Thank God.
Mr. Hastings introduces himself to the new people in homeroom. I don't mind him, really, but I wish I'd gotten a new teacher. Seriously. This guy's a math teacher, and he has math puns plastered all over the walls. Posters of graphs and equations also decorate the room. All of the walls are white, but that's barely noticeable. Because of the goddamn posters.
He's, like, in his forties, and he's always drinking coffee and on his laptop, undoubtedly reading about math and sharing math jokes on Facebook and whatnot. Jesus.
He makes us introduce ourselves as a "fun little game" and whatever, so the entirety of homeroom now knows that I had Hastings last year, and that I like art, and that my name is Clary Fray, and that I'm from New York. Yup. I don't pay attention to the rest of the people, really, because all we do during homeroom is either a) work on homework we didn't do at home, b) scroll through our phones, looking bored, c) nap, and d) gossip. It doesn't matter if we know each other by name as long as we have good gossip.
I choose to open the group chat during this time.
Clary: I'm dying. Can't believe I have Hastings again.
Isabelle: Whatever. I have some Fitzgerald lady who looks like she has a stick up her butt. She's a ninth grade teacher.
Clary: Poor ninth graders.
Maia: She's hell. I have her too.
Isabelle: Yeah. At least we'll die together.
Clary: Where is Simon?
Isabelle: No idea. Probably changing his schedule.
Clary: Makes sense.
I choose to play Candy Crush (an old favorite) while waiting for this excruciatingly long homeroom period to end. When it does, I wander over to AP European History, not surprised to find Simon there with me. He may love science and math, sure, but he's also an insane history geek. It's pretty awesome.
When the bell rings, I find myself relieved, once again, at the fact that Jace isn't in this class with me. I'm able to sit down and actually focus as the teacher introduces herself as Mrs. Oliver. She says she's new, and that she's looking forward to teaching this course, and then she hands out a syllabus and shows us the size of the binder we need to keep.
"This course is amazing. Enriching, wonderful, and amazing. But," Mrs. Oliver says, "it is also a lot of work. If you don't feel like you're up to the challenge, then feel free to drop out. But, if you are up to the challenge, I hope to see your best work."
It doesn't intimidate me. I mean, it does a little bit, but I'm still staying. I look at other people as they shift in their seats and mouth words like wow and shit to each other.
In AP Spanish, I'm greeted with familiar faces. Isabelle and Sebastian are there, waiting for me. I say hello to Sebastian with a hug. He always smells amazing, but today I realize how much I've missed him. We haven't hung out in three weeks, and it feels like forever. I cling to him for an embarrassingly long amount of time before letting go.
"How are you?" he asks me, settling down beside me. Isabelle takes the seat in front of me.
"I'm good." I smile. "Much better than the last time you saw me. How are you? How was soccer camp?"
"It was awesome," he says. He and some of the guys from the team signed up for this summer camp in Mexico. I know Jace participated too, along with a little less than half of the soccer team. "Mexico's amazing."
"I bet," I say.
"I'll tell you all about it later, okay?"
I nod, giving him a smile. "Can't wait."
When the bell rings, indicating that snack time is now in session and whatnot, Sebastian turns to face me as he gathers his things. "We need to hang out, Fray. I've missed you."
"Join us at Java Jones," Isabelle tells him. "We're going after school."
"Hey, that'd be awesome. Thanks."
"No problem." She smiles at him, and then looks at me. "You ready to go?"
I nod. "Bye, Seb."
"Later."
On our way to the little lounge area where we always meet up with our friends, Isabelle turns to me. "You know, I sometimes wonder if he still likes you."
"What?"
"Yeah," she says. "Like, he's so nice to you, and he loves spending time with you, even though you're his ex."
"It's this great thing called friendship."
She makes a face at me. "It's just weird."
I shrug. "I don't know. Looking back, I guess we were never really in love with each other."
"But you loved each other."
"Yeah," I admit. "And, you know, we were attracted to each other. But it's kind of like…it wasn't the love you fight for, you know? We just let ourselves settle into different things because, well, as long as we have each other, it's okay. Even if we're not dating."
"You guys are adorable," she tells me. "You know, as friends."
I smile. "Uh-huh."
"So," she says as we go up the second flight of stairs, "have you encountered Jace at all?"
"No."
"I did."
"Really? What class?"
"PE."
I wince. "Ew. Why are you taking that?"
"I wanna get in shape, okay?"
"You are so gross. Go away."
She laughs. "Yeah, well, it pays off." She flips her hair dramatically.
"You're such a dork."
"If by 'dork' you mean tragically beautiful, then yes, yes I am."
I shake my head. "I can't handle this. You're worse than your boyfriend."
Isabelle stops me by placing an arm on my shoulder. "You shouldn't even joke about that."
I break into a grin along with her, and we make it to the little area where we meet up with our friends. I settle into one of the super comfortable red chairs, dumping my bag on the floor. It's not even heavy. I just don't wanna do this.
I'm excited for this year. I am. I get to leave. I get to do the one thing I've been waiting forever for. I get to move out and move on, and I get to be happy.
Because, damn it, I deserve to be happy.
But, I mean, all happiness aside, I'm gonna die this year.
We have classes and extracurricular activities and college applications. I mean, Mom wants me to get a job, and I still wanna work at the gallery and submit art to the magazine and do a billion things on top of that. So I'm gonna be dead. And naturally—naturally—the last thing I should be thinking about is, like, whether or not I'm gonna see Jace around, but it's the only goddamn thought that seems to occupy my stupid brain.
And I find him. I find him in Environmental Science, because life hates me. I want to tell him along the lines of, you know, I thought you'd be in a more advanced science class or something. But I don't. We're not on speaking terms; he's made that perfectly clear.
Nothing has changed.
I sit down where I usually would: a corner, in the back. I take out a pen and start drawing on the back of my hand. It's become a nervous habit of mine, I guess, but I'd rather do that than bite my nails or chew on my lips or something. So I just draw things. I write lyrics, actually—I write I think we're haunted on my left hand, as small as I can—and then, when the bell rings again, I let out a breath and put the cap back on my pen.
Our teacher starts talking. Her name is Mrs. Carstairs, and she's really nice, and I would—I really would—pay attention and care if I weren't so damn distracted by trying to seem like I'm only paying attention to her.
But the truth is that I haven't been able to stop thinking about what Jace said to me. I know that he said that it didn't change anything, but the sentiment was surprisingly sweet. It didn't mean anything. I know. And I know that the two of us, you know, are never gonna be a thing. I've accepted the fact that our future is nonexistent, that whatever dreams I've been clinging onto for the past four years are gone now.
It still makes me sad, though. Because, even before, even when things were absolute shit between us, I held on to some sort of hope that he'd call me up or send me a message or come up to me and just tell me that he wanted to listen to what I wanted to say. I always thought that it would happen, because that's how it always does, right? In stories and movies and TV shows and even in plays. There's always a scene like that. But, well, in real life, all you get is a whole lot of waiting and hoping and wishing on that freaking 11:11 bullshit (which, by the way, 100% does not work) and a whole lot of disappointment when—surprise!—nothing fucking happens.
I also have Jace in Gender and Literature. Awesome. I don't know why he'd even take this class, anyway, though we did also take Sci-Fi Lit, and I'm pretty sure our school only covers one more lit class.
Existential Lit.
Maia took Existential Lit for a whole day last year. She couldn't do it. She physically could not sit through the class, because it was all philosophical and weird, and I feel that on a spiritual level. I feel like no seniors can handle people throwing questions about the meaning of life at them. Trust me. I can barely handle making it through a school day with regular questions; I don't think I can handle a whole period (five times a week, for, like, months!) of a teacher asking me what the meaning of life is and yes, Clarissa, but what does it mean? I can't do it.
Anyway, so he's in Gender and Lit with me, and I sit at my usual spot, and he sits two rows away from me, as per usual. I doodle things on the back of my hand to keep from looking over at him. I may have registered that things are done between us, but it's not something I'm happy about. At all. It's more like an overwhelming sense of loss sometimes—in times like these, for example, when I'm stuck in a classroom with a boring teacher talking to us about the stupid class, when all I can think about is whether or not I should just sneak a peak so my heart will stop beating just a tad bit faster than usual, just so I can calm the nerves that have surfaced? So I can cure the boredom that's overcoming me?
I make it through Pre-Calc and my lunch period and AP Psych and my College Prep Course—which Jace is in, of course—and I just can't wait to meet up with my friends. There's been something kind of building up inside me, and I feel like I'm just gonna burst into tears without explanation if I don't interact someone right the fuck now.
I mean, like, I had Maia and Isabelle in Pre-Calc, but our teacher for that has a stick up his ass, so we couldn't talk the entire time, especially not since I was kinda late for it. Anyway, I meet them by the exit, and I just feel so overwhelmed that I give Simon a big hug. I went through most of the summer without him, and, well, I know that Isabelle's, like, my girl best friend and all, but Simon is just my guy best friend, and he's equally as important. And yes, Isabelle asks a lot of questions, and that's good. I mean, I do it too. But Simon just takes one look at me and he gets me. If I don't wanna talk, then he doesn't ask. And I, personally, don't know how anybody can be like that, but I'm so, so thankful for that weird trait anyway. He hugs me back, and I squeeze him tightly.
"I missed you."
"We've been hanging out ever since I got back."
"Yeah, well," I say. "I still missed you."
He laughs into my shoulder. "I missed you too."
Sebastian comes up behind Isabelle. He's with Jace, naturally, but the two part ways by the entrance. I make a point to focus on Sebastian rather than the ridiculously attractive blond guy who happens to be walking beside him.
I feel like I can finally breathe when he's gone.
"Hey," Seb says. "Are we all good to go?"
"Yup," we chorus, and make our way to Java Jones.
Once we're inside, we all order smoothies, and we sit down at a booth by the window—the one kinda shaped like a semi-circle—and we talk about our day.
Of course, Isabelle asks, "So, Clary, did you see more of the asshole?"
"Jace?" Sebastian asks.
I roll my eyes. "Yes, and yes."
"Do explain," she prompts.
I sigh. "I have him in three classes. And two of them are in a row. And we're not talking."
"Ugh, but why can't we just, like, kick his ass or something?" she asks. "That's the one wild thing I wanna do my senior year."
"Don't waste the wild thing on him," I tell her. "Trust me, you'll find something better to do."
"What happened?" Sebastian frowns.
"Nothing happened." I shrug. "Things between us aren't gonna change. He's made that perfectly clear."
"I'm sorry, Clary," Maia says, looking at me with the same words written all over her face. Her face is basically saying I'm sorry to me.
I manage a smile. "Thanks, Maia. I just have to, like, really get over it, you know? I'm annoying myself with all of this Jace bullshit." I shake my head. "It's been four years! How—" How am I not over this yet? I shake my head again. "I hate not being able to be fully coordinated enough so that, when I think something, I actually do it. Because I tell myself to get over it every single day, and I tell myself that there are, like, a million reasons to get over it, and I list them in my mind, and then I'm near him and it's like all of that falls apart, and I'm just left with a bunch of self-loathing, because all I've wanted for the past year is to just get over it."
Heavy silence falls upon us, and I think, Fuck, I've fucked up. I've made it awkward. But then Maia says, "Dude, I was with Jordan for way too long, and, I mean, I don't think I'm still entirely over it. I don't think I'm ever gonna be entirely over it." She sighs. "Even though he was a fucking dick."
"Some people are just hard to let go," Sebastian tells me.
I give them both a tired smile. "Thank you, guys. But tell me more about your day. Seb, are you really taking AP Chem and AP Physics?"
He launches into his explanation of why he's taking both AP Chem and AP Physics. I mean, Simon's taking AP Bio and AP Calculus, but, I mean, two sciences and a math class. That's just crazy.
We end up leaving Java Jones at five. Sebastian says he's gonna stick around, and Isabelle and Simon are gonna just walk around, and Maia's house is super close to school, so I take the subway by myself all the way home. I put on my iPod and hope it calms me down.
Show your hands
If you need a new coat of paint
If you're bummed about heavy things
Like anchors hidden somewhere 'neath your skin
Or if your head's just an empty box
And if your heart has become spare parts
If your days are now just something you must bear
Well, oh, it seems you're a lot like me
You dug yourself into places you never thought you would be
Don't you fret and don't you mind
The only constant is change
And you never know what you'll find
I listen to the rest of the song with the sound pumping in my veins and the lyrics stuck in my heart.
My mom is waiting for me when I get home. Jon is still home—he leaves tomorrow—so she made him work at the gallery while she had a day off, which she, apparently, has not had in ages. She's cooking right now, probably making dinner. Or a late lunch. I don't know.
"Hi," she tells me. "How was your day?"
I shrug. "Eh. It was fine. I hung out with the guys after school."
"The guys?"
"Maia, Isabelle, Simon, and Sebastian."
"And Sebastian?" She lifts an eyebrow.
I make a face. "You know we're good friends."
"I know. I'm just messing with you." She turns around to keep cooking. "Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes."
"Okay."
She doesn't mind that I just don't eat dinner outside of my room. It's kind of the norm around here, actually, which is awesome. I go into my room, set my bag down, close the door, lock it, and then just let out a long sigh and fall onto bed.
I am so tired.
How have I done this before? For three years? Without wanting to, like, die?
I know that I'm being dramatic, but the first day of school is always hard for me. Because, you know, doing nothing—or at least doing things I actually like without having to wake up too early for my brain to properly function—is kind of my thing. I love it. I love being lazy. I don't care if it's, like, the worst thing ever. Sometimes, in the summer, I think, "I should do something," but then I just don't, and I'm reminded of what a great decision I made the second I'm forced to wake up early for school.
And it's not just waking up early. It's going through a whole day of people making out in the middle of the hallways, of people gossiping and going super slowly up the stairs, of people making dumb, stupid, ignorant comments. I mean, yes, some people are like super intellectual and smart and, like, yeah, I go to school with some fucking brilliant people, but other people make me want to kill someone.
But I do what I always do. I watch three episodes of Friends while eating dinner and relaxing with the AC on. And then I take a shower, and I watch some more of Friends while in bed, and then, when it's almost eleven (wild, I know), I close my laptop, place it on the desk, pick out some clothes for tomorrow, make sure I've charged my phone, and turn off the lights.
"You can't not go," Sebastian tells me. "Come on! Do it for meeee."
I sigh. "Seb, I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because Jace is gonna be there."
"So?"
"So I don't wanna see him."
"There are gonna be more people there."
"It doesn't change the fact that he will also be there."
"Come on, Clary," Sebastian says. "It's the first party I'm throwing this year. It's the first party of the year. I need you to be there."
"Why?"
"Because you bring good luck."
I smile and poke his shoulder. "I so don't."
"Yes, you do. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be…" He sighs. "I don't know. I don't know where I'd be without you."
I groan. "Fine. Fine. God. I'll go to the stupid party."
He grins. "You're the best. Now, come on. This Pre-Calc quiz is tomorrow, and you're really bad at it."
I let out a fake gasp. "You don't say?"
He rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Come on."
"I don't want to."
"Why?"
"Because studying is pointless."
"Fine. Let's talk about the future."
I let out another groan. I'm fine talking about college, but I'm not in the mood for it with him. "Fine. Fine. Give me the damn paper. Jesus, I hate you."
"I don't know why you need to hate Jesus."
I try not to laugh; instead, I glare at him and look at the paper. We're just reviewing, but, oh my God, I am overwhelmingly bad at math. Which I've proven over. And over. And over. But I'm still taking math classes, because everything sucks, and school is terrible.
His party's actually tomorrow—Sebastian's, I mean. Obviously. Anyway, I'm supposed to come over earlier and help him set up, because that's what friends do, I guess. I don't know. My friends have never really thrown parties. Isabelle's wanted to, but she needs Alec for that, because he knows how to handle things better than she does, and because he has Magnus, who is the ultimate party thrower. Either way, it just hasn't worked out.
The next twenty-four hours breeze by. I get about four hours of sleep, given that I'm freaking out about my Pre-Calc quiz and my AP Euro quiz and the party, and I show up to school looking like a zombie, as I usually do, and then I take my quizzes, which I maybe failed, and then I go over to Seb's, and here we are. Settin' things up.
I don't wanna be setting anything up. I wanna go home.
But Sebastian is my friend, and he would do anything for me, and I would do anything for him, so here I am.
If you'd have told me four years ago that Sebastian Verlac would've become one of my best friends, I would've probably laughed at you. Like, seriously. I would've laughed really hard. Because, I mean, yeah. Dating him or imagining hooking up with him is one thing. The fact that we had a year-long relationship was just astounding, really, because what the hell. But then this friendship thing is like…a whole different thing. Seriously. Because we've seen each other inside out, and we still choose to stay in this. He's seen me in more ways than anyone else, and he still chooses to be my friend.
I mean, I choose to be his, but it's not like that's hard. He makes me laugh. And he's really nice. And yeah, he struggles with a lot of shit, like how he drinks too much whenever he gets the chance, and how he's kind of really reckless and doesn't take care of himself. And yeah, sometimes we can't make conversation. But we've accepted it. We don't need to make conversation.
"You nervous?" he asks me.
I look up at him. "Yeah," I admit. "It's mostly the fact that I'm gonna be drinking, and I haven't gotten any sleep, so I have, like, no patience right now."
"Tonight's gonna be fun," he tells me. "You just have to, you know, let loose."
I grin. "Sure."
"I'm serious!"
"I know," I tell him. "But if you want me to hook up with someone at the party, I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because I, like, know them." I shudder.
"And that's a bad thing?"
"Yeah, dude. If I'm gonna hook up with someone for one night, it's gonna be with a total stranger."
"Sure."
"It's true."
"Just—" He rakes a hand through his hair. "Promise me you'll be safe. You know how parties can get."
"Yeah, yeah. You're acting like a big brother right now, and it's kind of creeping me out."
"You looooove me."
I shove him to the side and pull my phone out of my pocket. I have a message from Isabelle, who's on her way. I report it to Sebastian, who's still setting up the alcohol table. I'm, like, the only friend here to help, and I suspect that he did this on purpose so he could have this talk with me before the party.
He has those lights where you can adjust the brightness, so he dims the lighting for the party. He makes sure to lock his father's room, but every other room is open. Which is awesome for the people who are getting laid, I'm sure, but what the heck am I supposed to do for the rest of the night?
I'm staying over either at Isabelle's or Sebastian's—not sure which yet, really, because I'm not sure if Simon and Isabelle are gonna go back to hers for follow-up rounds—so I make sure to leave my bag in his closet. People start arriving, all very excited to drink and officially start their senior year.
I take a Smirnoff from the fridge. It's green apple, which is my favorite flavor, so I sip and talk with Isabelle about how Sebastian's been seeing this girl he met at camp. He filled me in on it earlier, and it was actually pretty awesome. She sounds super awesome, too, and she's gorgeous. She's supposedly coming to the party tonight, but, seeing how crowded it's getting, I'm not sure I'll be able to meet her.
I move on to my second Smirnoff, and then to my third, and then I switch it up, you know. It's been over an hour. I eat some snacks while drinking something fruity. Isabelle made it for me, and it's amazing, and I love it. I know it has vodka and orange juice, but I don't know what else. Either way, it's the best fucking drink in the world.
Simon and Isabelle have gone to make out or have sex or whatever, so now it's just Maia and me. She's fidgeting, tugging at a string in her hoodie, so I ask her what's wrong.
"Oh, you know," she says. "The guy I like is here."
"What?"
She bites her lip. "I didn't wanna tell anyone, just in case I didn't end up really liking him, but yeah."
"Who?" I prompt, leaning over.
"It's Bat."
"Bat?"
"Yeah, Bat. The guy who's always playing the guitar."
"When's 'always'?"
"Dude! The guy we pass sometimes to get to our spot."
"Oh!" I remember him. He's cute. "Oh my God, Maia, you should totally go for it."
"Are you crazy?" she hisses. "He would never ever ever ever—"
"Well, he's checking you out right now, so I don't see why not."
"What?" Her head snaps up. "Where is he?"
"I'm facing him, but you aren't. Now go talk to him, dude. Go."
And so, magically, and after taking a shot, she does.
So I end up alone. I decide to go to one of the rooms to just kind of chill and drink by myself. I stumble into one of them blindly, and it's so dark that I can't see anything. I close the door and lock it and sigh.
And then I turn on the lights—or, well, make them a little less dim—I almost scream.
Jace Wayland is sitting at the edge of the bed, looking very confused. He's holding a drink in his hand, and he narrows his eyes at me, and, oh my fucking God, he is so fucking wasted. I can see it. He can barely stay awake right now. Oh Jesus.
"I should—uh—I should go."
"Yeah," he says. "Maybe."
Despite myself, I turn around. "What?"
"I said yeah, and then maybe."
I roll my eyes. "You should go to a bathroom. You're about to start puking. Which…" I shake my head. "Why did you even have to get this drunk, anyway? The party's only been going on for"—I check my phone—"three hours." Wow. Three hours is a lot.
"Well, I got really drunk because I don't have Kaelie anymore, and drinking is fun."
"I don't even know who Kaelie is." I hate how annoying my voice sounds. "Look, I'm gonna go."
"Whatever. No surprise there."
I turn to him slowly. "What?"
He looks me dead in the eyes and says, "Well, you always leave."
"Maybe I do always leave," I say. "And maybe it wouldn't be so goddamn hard if you stopped coming back. So why are you still coming back? I mean, why are you here, Jace, calling me out on this while you're—" I shake my head. "You're drunk. I'm tipsy. I'm gonna go."
He waves me off. I go over to the alcohol table, and I take four shots, and then I go to a room, and I feel like I'm gonna be sick. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why did I do this. Why. This is the worst feeling ever and I never ever ever want to feel like this again. Never. Ever.
Ever.
E
V
E
R.
I find a really comfortable bed, and I manage to get myself on it, and then I pass out.
The sun is making me blind.
And it's also giving me a headache.
I flip it off as I make my way into the kitchen. I want to puke, but I don't, because Jace is in the kitchen.
Jace. I feel like something happened last night, but I don't remember. Whatever. We probably fought. It's probably for the best, anyway.
I drink some water and get my bag from Seb's closet. He's still asleep, and there's a girl on the bed with him, so I don't disturb them as I get my bag. I grab a towel from the closet out in the hall and make my way into the bathroom. I ignore Jace entirely, because whatever. I just shower, change, make sure I'm at least slightly okay, and then I walk out.
I text Sebastian, you know, a quick I left and the party was great type of thing, and then I go home.
Because I just need to be home.
Let me know what you think!
