"Alec!"

Alec stood still in front of the fountain, his empty water bottle poised under the fount waiting to press the button. The flow of traffic was heading towards the front doors after the final bell, the school steadily emptying out. But he had soccer practice, and he was waiting for Jace to show so they could head out together.

It wasn't Jace calling his name, however. It was Magnus Bane. He seemed relieved to have found him. Alec swallowed, trying to focus on the bottle. He hit the button and started filling it up, hearing the squeak other boy's shoes as he approached.

"You've got practice?" Magnus asked, leaning into the cinder block wall between bathrooms.

"Yeah. I've got to change out," Alec said, screwing the lid on the bottle.

"K. I just wanted to ask you about Friday."

"What about it?" Alec asked, feeling the heat rush to his face.

"You want to walk home?"

"Well...I don't usually walk. I mean, unless I have practice. And then I walk with Jace."

"Got practice on Friday?"

"No."

"So, how will you be getting home?"

"We ride with Isabelle."

"Sounds fun. I'd like to meet your sister. She has fantastic nails."

"Umm. OK. If you want. I'm not sure if Jace is coming with us or not. But you can have shotgun."

"We'll make him sit up front," Magnus decided, with a snicker.

Alec shook his head, looking anxious. "Yeah, not the best idea."

"Because then we'd have the back seat all to ourselves?" Magnus drawled.

"No. I meant because Jace and Isabelle argue constantly."

"Oh, right. Reer." He made his hand into a cat claw and swiped at the air. Alec laughed.

"Yeah. It could end badly."

"Well, we'll play it by ear. And we could still walk."

"Yeah. I guess so."

"So you just get the weekend off from practice?"

"Pretty much. Well, and Thursdays. Practice usually runs Monday through Wednesday, since our games are later in the week. And we have to focus on classwork too."

"See, I don't envy you that. Balancing school with extracurriculars. I have a hard enough time fitting my blog updates in."

"I don't really do that."

"Have a blog?"

"I have a Livejournal, but I only posted to it like once."

Magnus's eyes lit up with interest, and he removed his cell. "What's your username?"

"Alec underscore Lightweight."

Magnus chuckled, adding the name to his friends list. He already had Livejournal pulled up on his browser.

"So do you use messenger?"

"Yeah. That's pretty much the only reason I have it."

"Fabulous. Then I'll look for you later."

"OK," Alec said, lowering his book bag to his elbow. "I gotta go."

"K." Magnus leaned in and bussed his cheek. Alec wasn't sure what to do, so he muttered an awkward 'bye' and headed the opposite way down the hall. Magnus watched him go until the door at the end of the hall slammed shut, and then he ran down the hallway and pushed the double-doors open outside, skipping down the front steps of school.

"Did you make out in the locker room?" Paul teased, unplugging the earbud from his left ear.

"No. I got his LJ name, though."

"That's progress," Paul mumbled, popping the ear bud back in. "Does that mean we won't be chatting much in your comp class?"

"Don't know yet. He may not be big on chatting."

"Then it's a doomed relationship," Paul called, his voice louder now that the music was blaring in his ears. He started walking, hands in his pockets. Magnus, still enthusiastic about the rendezvous with Alec, strolled after him, humming to himself.

- - -

"So you survived another day," Simon teased, passing Clary the bowl of popcorn.

She snatched a kernel up and chucked it at his face. It bounced off his glasses, and she laughed.

"Hey! I can't see through butter," he objected, taking his glasses off and rubbing the grease off with the end of his shirt. It left a smear - his mom would be pissed. Of course, she still did the laundry for everyone in the house. It was part of her Sunday cleaning ritual.

"Well, you don't have to rub it in."

"Are you at least a little less miserable?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Have you met anyone new?" Simon asked, peering over his glasses as he nudged them back onto his nose. He was asking particularly about the male population.

Clary shook her head and made a face. "No. I told you, it's not the friendliest place on earth."

"It's Manhattan. What did you expect?" Simon teased.

"Because Brooklyn is so much happier," Clary retorted, threatening to throw another handful of popcorn. He held his arm up to block the throw that didn't come. Clary snickered.

"Want to go somewhere tonight?"

"What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know. We could actually go out to eat, instead of raiding your fridge."

"Why don't we go raid yours?"

"Because there's nothing in it. And I mean nothing. We've got cereal and milk and pickles. It's not a livable kitchen yet."

"I'm sorry. Maybe you should talk to Luke about going grocery shopping."

"That's rude."

"No, it's not. He's the responsible adult. He needs to be reminded that you're a growing girl, and you need junk food. Or boca burgers, at least. You know they're parve?"

"You mean, they're not made out of meat?"

"They're veggie burgers. So you could slap on some cheese and call it a night."

"I don't keep kosher, Simon. I can handle some Angus Beef."

"Jealous," Simon sighed, sinking back against the arm rest of the couch. "Speaking of kosher, my mom wanted me to ask if you wanted to come over for Friday night dinner?"

"Sure," Clary replied, about to shove the popcorn in her mouth. "I mean, no! I can't."

"Huh?"

"I'm...busy, Friday night."

"What? What are you doing?"

"I do have a life, Simon. Aside from suffering through school and coming over to see you."

"I know that. But you didn't tell me. Is it...a date or something?" he asked, hoping she wouldn't see how he clenched his jaw.

Clary shrugged.

"One of the two guys you just met already asked you out? Wow, Fray. You move fast."

"Shut up," she replied, pinching his leg instead of wasting more popcorn. "It's not really a date, I guess."

"How's that? Will his parents be there?"

"No. He's going to borrow an Aston Martin for the night, and we're going for a ride."

Simon whistled. "Hot car."

"Yeah. I knew you'd be jealous of that part."

Simon did look jealous, but it wasn't just of the car. He tried to look away, brows drawn.

"What?"

"Just be careful, OK?"

" 'Course. I'll call you, if it gets shady."

"You better. I'll hunt down his Aston Martin-driving ass and kick the crap out of him."

"No, you won't."

Simon puffed up at the implication that he wasn't man enough. Clary placed her hand on his knee.

"It'll be after sun down. The sabbath."

"We're not hardcore Jewish, Clary. We do go out on the weekend. And even turn the lights on and off."

"Well, I figured you'd still be eating dinner. Or something."

"I'll be waiting by the phone the entire time, OK?"

"Thanks, dad."

"Shut up," he replied this time, tossing a big handful of popcorn at her.

Clary squealed, leaping up from the couch and running away. Simon laughed, vaulting over the back of the couch in hot pursuit. But she made it to the bedroom first, locking the door behind her.

"Hey! You can't lock me out of my own room!"

"Just did!" she called, laughing through the door.

"Fine then. Guess I'll be going alone to Java Jones later."

He could hear Clary groan, and snickered. "Go ahead. I'll be fine here."

"My computer is password protected. Just so you know."

"I bet I can guess your password."

Simon blanched, realizing she was probably right. He started pounding on the door in earnest.