Hey guys!

Thank you for all the favs, follows and reviews. You guys make my day every single time. I love you all so, so much. And a special shout-out to Clary Potter for the super sweet review that left me smiling for the rest of the day 3

A little refresher since it's been a while: Will and Tessa were paired together on a Lit project that required them to write a story on one another, creating characters based off each other set in the world of A Tale of Two Cities. I hope that's clear, since they will be discussing it in this chapter.

Happy reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments or Infernal Devices.

"You can't fight it, you can't breathe. You say something so loving, but now I've got to let you go. You'll be better off in someone new. I don't wanna be alone, you know it hurts me too. You look so broken when you cry, one more and then I'll say goodbye. Sometimes, all I think about is you. Late nights in the middle of June…heat waves been faking me out…"

- Heat Waves, Glass Animals

Chapter Seventeen

Clary was screwed.

There were approximately twenty-five minutes left till her test ended, and she had still not started on a single question. Mostly because she didn't know how to do a single one of them, even though she'd studied until her eyeballs melted out of her face.

"Clary."

She flipped through the paper, panic rising as question after question flashed, incomprehensible, before her eyes.

"CLARY."

Hadn't she just revised this yesterday? How could she have forgotten so quickly?

"CLARY!"

Someone was poking her.

Clary jerked upright.

The blur of colour around her slowly began to come into focus. She blinked furiously, rubbing the heels of her palms over her eyes, and looked back at her surroundings.

Walls covered with paintings, ranging from mediocre to truly atrocious. Students filing into seats. One far-too-amused golden-haired boy in the seat next to her.

Art class. She was in art class. It was Thursday. Her test wasn't until tomorrow.

Jace waved a hand before her eyes. "Earth to Clary? It's the year two-oh- "

She swatted him. "I know what year it is, you idiot. I'm not that out of it."

"You sure?" Jace asked, eyeing her suspiciously. "Because you fell asleep on your textbook, you didn't hear me calling your name for the last five minutes, and you look absolutely terrible."

"Gee, thanks. You really know how to make a girl's day, Herondale."

"Seriously, Morgenstern, did you sleep at all last night?"

Clary thought about that for a second. "I might have dozed off for forty-five minutes."

"Okay, that's it." Jace reached over and swiped her textbook. "No more of this."

"Hey, give that back!" Clary protested, reaching over to tug it back. "This isn't the time for jokes, Jace. I need to study – "

"What you need," he interrupted, "is to relax. You look like the love child of a gremlin and a demon."

"Full of compliments today, aren't you?"

"Always. But seriously, you look exhausted."

Clary rubbed her eyes and sighed. She'd arrived at Art a little early, intending to squeeze in some extra studying before Mrs Branwell came in, but she must have dozed off in the process.

"I am exhausted," she said wearily. "I never want to look at a graph ever again. But I need to do well."

"Hey." Jace's voice was unexpectedly gentle. "You will. But not if you drive yourself into the hospital. You can afford an hour off studying, Clary."

She was about to protest when she caught the flash of concern in his eyes, devoid of humour or amusement at her expense. Jace Herondale, worried about her – almost as though he cared.

She let out a long breath. "Alright. One hour."

"Excellent!" Jace proclaimed, tucking her textbook into his backpack. "You'll get this back at the end of class. In the meantime, I will serve as your personal entertainment, out of the goodness of my heart."

Clary groaned and dropped her head into her arms.

This was about to be an extremely long hour.

"Hello, Tessa, my love," a smooth voice announced, dropping into the seat beside her. "You look simply ravishing today."

Tessa groaned inwardly and kept her head burrowed in the circle of her arms. Maybe if she pretended to be asleep, Will would get the hint and leave her alone.

"You may be wondering how I know the state of your appearance simply from the top of your head?"

Or maybe not.

"It's elementary, my dear Watson," he proclaimed, and she felt him shift to lean closer to her. "You look ravishing every day. Ergo, the deduction."

"Oh, for the love of God!" Tessa snapped, shooting bolt upright. "Surely, you are either incomprehensibly dense or incomprehensibly irritating or both, because in what world is it not absolutely clear that you do not disturb someone who is trying to sleep?"

The words must have come out with more bite than she'd intended, for Will actually leaned back ever-so-slightly when she'd finished. He held his arms up, blinking at her in surprise. "I come in peace! I promise. Don't shoot me."

She buried her face in her palms, feeling slightly guilty. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap. I'm just…tired."

"I can tell," he said, peering at her. "You still look ravishing, dear heart, but perhaps not entirely at your ravishing best."

"I'll keep that in mind if I plan to seduce any knights today," she said dryly. "Now will you leave me alone? I'm trying to squeeze in a nap before – "

"Settle down everyone!"

Tessa's hopes crumbled as Mr Wayland swept into class, tie askew and glasses perched crookedly on his nose. So much for getting some shut-eye.

She caught Will's eye and drew her finger across her throat.

He winked at her.

For perhaps the six hundredth time in the last three years, Tessa contemplated if it would be worth going to jail just to slaughter Will Herondale.

"I have a very special surprise in store for you today," Mr Wayland said, leaning against his desk and beaming around at them all. "I know you've been working very hard, so I decided this was the perfect time for – a pop quiz!"

There was a beat of silence as everyone stared at Mr Wayland in horrified shock.

Their teacher held their gazes for a second, and then laughed. "Oh, don't stare at me like that. It was a joke. I'm not a sadist, you know!"

Tessa joined in with the sighs of relief from all around her, torn between exasperation and fondness for her teacher's ridiculous humour. As much as she loved A Tale of Two Cities, there was no way her fraying nerves would've been able to handle another test right now.

"I know the majority of you have your math placement tomorrow," Mr Wayland said, "so I thought we'd take it easier today. I'm giving you the period to work on your pair assignment. Please share the progress you've made with your partner and decide how you want to move forward together. You can consult me at any time if you need help."

He clapped his hands together. "Move to your partners please!"

"I'm cursed," Tessa grumbled, begrudgingly turning to face Will. "Truly, I am."

"Now don't be like that, partner," Will said in a truly terrible cowboy accent. "'Tis a dream come true for many to spend a whole period with me."

She snorted. "If you do that voice the entire time? Undoubtedly so."

"Mimicry is just one of my many talents," Will said easily, sliding his table over to join hers. "You are blessed to be able to witness it."

"Remind me to sacrifice to the gods later for my good fortune, oh gifted one."

Before Will could reply, a clear voice cut through the din. "Mr Wayland?"

A glance at the front of the room told her that it was Axel Mortmain, the new student. "I, uh, don't have a partner."

"Oh, yes," Mr Wayland said, his brow furrowing. "How silly of me to forget. My apologies, Axel. Perhaps one of you would be kind enough to have Axel join you?"

He looked hopefully at the various pairs scattered across the class. Most of them turned away, avoiding eye contact. Jem looked as though he'd like to volunteer but was too afraid of what his partner might say if he did. Katherine Church wasn't exactly the…friendly sort.

When the silence became uncomfortably prolonged, her teacher's pleading gaze landed on Tessa.

Of course. Why was she such an impossible people-pleaser?

Tessa raised her hand resignedly. "He can join us, Mr Wayland."

"Excellent!" the older man beamed. "Thank you, Tessa. Axel, you can move up to work with Tessa and Will. The rest of you, please share your story – or however much of it you've completed – with your partner. I expect you to be at least half done by this point."

"Teacher's pet," Will whispered as Axel dragged his chair up the aisle towards them.

She gave him a pointed look. "It's called being a nice person. Not that I expect you to understand what that's like."

Will let out a despondent sigh. "Every day you deal me a mortal wound, Miss Gray."

She rolled her eyes. "And yet, here you are, infuriatingly alive."

"I have great fortitude," Will said, dropping his voice as he leaned back in his chair. "It comes with the stamina."

She was saved from having to respond to that innuendo by Axel's arrival.

Axel Mortmain had become somewhat of an enigma in Shadowhunter High. The general consensus was that he was reasonably attractive – Tessa had heard more than a few of her schoolmates whisper about "that fricking gorgeous jawline" – but mysterious.

That, of course, only added to his appeal.

Tessa herself hadn't interacted with Axel beyond the first Lit lesson in which they'd been paired together, though she'd seen him around school after that. He'd seemed pleasant enough then, if a little shy, though she'd chalked that up to joining a new school in the middle of term.

Tessa knew from experience how stressful that could be. She would've been utterly lost on her first day without Clary, always ready with a kind word or a helpful tip when she needed it.

She smiled at Axel as he sat down, resolving to try and draw him out of his shell a little.

"Thanks for having me," Axel said politely, smiling hesitantly back at her. "I'll stay out of your way. I know I'm probably more of a burden than any real help."

"Very magnanimous of you," Will remarked lightly.

Tessa elbowed him in the side. "Can you stop being an ass for once in your life?"

"I was not – "

"I apologize for my partner," Tessa told Axel regretfully. "He was dropped on the head as a baby and never learned how to be a proper human being."

"Mortal wounds," Will grumbled. "Mortal, I tell you."

Axel laughed slightly, though he looked a little uncertain. "Are you two always like this?"

"Only when this one decides to act like a buffoon," Tessa said, jerking her head at Will.

"I get all of five seconds with the new kid before you tarnish my reputation," Will protested. "Axel, I promise you I'm not a buffoon."

Seeing that Axel wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that, Tessa changed the topic. "Have you studied A Tale of Two Cities before?"

"Not at school, but I've read it," Axel told her. "It's one of my favourites."

"Really?" she asked, surprised. "That's amazing. I've never met anyone else who liked it before."

"I love it," Axel assured her. "Have since I was a kid. My father used to read it to me every night before bed. It was his favourite."

"My mother's, too. She said you couldn't call yourself a student of the classics without having read it. She thought it was Dickens' finest work."

"She has good taste," Axel said, grinning at her. It was the first time Tessa had seen him truly smile, not just out of politeness or reciprocity, and in that moment, she could see why her classmates had swooned over him.

But there was something missing.

It took her a second before she realized that she was looking for Will – that she was searching for the crook of his smile, lips always quirking up higher on the right; the spark in his eyes right before he flirted with her; the way his entire face lit up when he laughed, really laughed.

Tessa tore her gaze away, flustered, but the damage was done. Axel was gazing at her curiously, a little confused, and Will –

Will wasn't laughing. Not anymore.

No, he was just looking at her with those dark eyes – looking at her with something that was not quite longing and not quite bitterness, and yet ran along the edges of both. She didn't understand it, any of it – not that expression on his face, not that it was directed at her, of all people – not when she'd just looked at another boy and all she'd thought about was him.

What the hell is going on?

But as she mumbled something about continuing with work and turned back to the page before her, Tessa couldn't help but wonder if she really wanted the answer to that question after all.

Still life.

Of every topic in the wonderful history of artistic tradition, of the hundreds of techniques that Mrs Branwell could have seen fit to impart to them – she had chosen still life.

In that moment, Clary had known someone up there truly despised her.

Normally, she would've asked someone to check her into an asylum if she ever voluntarily picked math over art, but right now delving back into polynomial equations and vectors seemed a far sweeter option than what lay ahead of her.

"What did that poor bowl of fruit ever do to you?"

Clary stopped glaring at the offending item long enough to scowl at Jace. He appeared positively delighted. Delighted, while she suffered. The audacity of the boy.

"Exist," she replied haughtily, plopping her chin on her hand.

"I have to say, Morgenstern," Jace said. "I'm rather enjoying this newfound disdain for art from you. It's nice to feel understood."

"I don't disdain art," Clary sniffed. "I'm just not a fan of still art."

"But you draw from real life all the time. You drew me last week, remember?"

"That's different," she said, looking back at her sketchpad. She hadn't been able to bring herself to do more than some vague outlines. "Those are people. This is just – an object. There's nothing to capture about it. No spark."

She prepared for the next taunting remark or sarcastic quip – but it never came. Instead, Jace seemed almost contemplative as he turned her words over, his pencil becoming slack in his hand.

Then he chuckled softly.

"What?"

Jace shook his head, though he was still smiling. "Nothing, really. You just – do that a lot. Remind me of my mother."

The word dropped into the space between them like lead, stripping the cheerful playfulness from the atmosphere. Clary felt suddenly tentative, slipping on eggshells, afraid that the wrong move would cause Jace to retreat into himself, would wipe that soft, thoughtful look from his face.

"She wasn't a fan of still art either?" she asked finally, trying to keep her voice light. Jace had talked about his mother before, of course, but there had always been pain beneath it – deepening the shadows in his eyes, scraping the edges of his words. They had always been the memories of an aching boy, not the fond son she saw before her now.

"Not exactly," he said, still with that little smile on his face. He was looking off to her right, though she didn't think he was really seeing anything. "Life is where art is. That's what she used to say. She liked to tell me that the artist's job wasn't creating as much as…revealing. Rediscovering what already existed through new eyes."

She wondered what Jace's mother had been like, this woman who had surely given him those long artist's fingers, who had taught him of beauty. Had she perched him on her lap, guided him with soft words and gentle eyes, tickled him with paint-spattered hands?

Had he been different then, wilder and freer and younger, not yet touched by grief or hurt?

Clary tried to imagine that – Jace, small and wide-eyed and innocent, drinking in his mother's words without knowing that they would someday become his lifeline in a world without her.

"She sounds like a very wise woman," Clary said quietly.

Immediately, she knew it had been the wrong thing to say. His face darkened, like thunderclouds gathering on a distant horizon, and she cursed herself, scrambling for some way to fix it, but it was too late. She could feel him shut down, withdrawing, pulling away from her, and something within her cried out no, stop, let me know you, let me help you –

"My mother was many things, Clary." He looked up at her, and she nearly flinched at the vortex of hurt and anger that swirled in those aureate irises. "Wise was not one of them."

She wanted to say something, to smooth away that jagged edge to his voice, but he had already turned away from her, snapped those water-tight shields into place against the world, and she knew that he had slipped beyond her reach.

Not for the first time, Clary wondered what kind of life he must have lived for that guardedness, that wariness, to have become second nature. In the last couple of weeks, she had found herself unable to stop thinking about it – unable to refrain from picking apart everything he'd ever told her, dissecting every look in those brilliant eyes, every glance of pain on that beautiful face.

It occurred to her now that perhaps she was really trying to unravel the mystery of Jace Herondale.

For the plan, she thought, almost defensive. How do I get him to fall in love with me if he doesn't open up to me?

And yet, even as Clary dropped her gaze to her sketchbook and picked up her pencil again, she couldn't quite shake the thought that there was a lot more to it than that.

Tessa was going to murder Will Herondale.

She was going to smash every bone in his body and grind it up into powder and feed it to the dogs.

Well, she didn't have any dogs, but she would acquire some solely for the purpose of feeding them Will's ground-up bone dust.

After that awkward moment earlier – Tessa had locked that away in the section of her brain titled Never Think About Ever Again – they had finally moved on to discussing the stories they'd crafted for one another. Tessa had let Will go first.

A decision she now deeply, entirely regretted.

"I cannot believe you made me a toothless prostitute!"

"What's wrong with being a toothless prostitute?" Will asked indignantly. "It's a perfectly respectable profession, you know. Or do you not think women deserve autonomy over their bodies and sex lives, Tess?"

Never mind. The poor dogs didn't deserve something so horrible.

"You aren't going to have much of a body to have autonomy over when I'm done with – "

Axel coughed politely, though he was eyeing both Tessa and Will the way one would generally eye a rabid animal slobbering at the mouth. "Um, perhaps Will was just trying to be period accurate?"

"That's right," Will said, nodding. "Really, the shocking lack of opportunities for independent women back then was truly appalling. I searched it up just for you, Tess."

"Thank you so much for your attention to period accuracy, William," Tessa said sarcastically. "Your newfound dedication to your homework is truly to be commended."

"What else could I do?" he demanded. "Create a secret society of demon-fighting hunters with angelic blood and superpowers – hey, that's actually not a bad idea. How do you feel about a love triangle?"

Tessa levelled him with a flat glare. "Rewrite it."

"What? Are you crazy?"

"Rewrite. It."

"Fine," Will huffed, folding his arms over his chest petulantly. "You're no fun, Tess."

"If we're going by your definition of fun, then thank God."

"Alright, where's your story then?" he challenged. "I'm sure you've done no justice to my wonderful person whatsoever."

"Oh, no," Tessa dismissed. "You're not getting it until you rewrite that atrocity, and I'm satisfied with whatever you churn out. Then you get to read yours. Besides, class is over."

She pointed at the clock mounted above the teacher's table. "You successfully wasted all of it with that astoundingly long-winded story. And for the record, that whole thing sounded more Les Misérables than A Tale of Two Cities."

"Funny you should say that," Will said thoughtfully. "I kind of might have been doing this at the last minute while Cecily was watching Les Misérables last night."

He looked back down at his notebook. "Hey, do you think that could have bled over somehow?"

"Will!"

"Okay, okay! I'll do it properly next time."

"You better," Tessa threatened as the bell rang, and Mr Wayland stood up to dismiss them. Axel bid them both farewell, looking relieved to be free of them – though she couldn't really blame him for that.

"You scared him off," she scolded. "Poor guy."

Will snorted. "Please. You scared him off. And good riddance, if you ask me."

"You don't even know him," Tessa pointed out. "Plus, he seems nice enough."

"Saint Tessa," Will said lightly, though there was something not so light-hearted under the words. "Defender of the innocent."

"Don't be an asshole," Tessa said, stung by the remark. "I thought we were past that, Will."

She swung her bag over her shoulder and was out of class before Will reached her. "Tess, wait!"

He caught her by the elbow, swinging her around to face him. "I'm sorry," he said, voice easy as ever, but she could tell from the apology in his eyes that he was sincere. "I didn't mean that. I'll be nicer to Axel. I promise."

"Apology accepted," Tessa said with a nod. "See you in class."

She turned away, already dreading her next lesson – Biology had always been her worst subject – when Will spoke again.

"Hold on. What are you doing tomorrow?"

Tessa turned back in surprise. "What?"

"What are you doing tomorrow?" he repeated. "After your test."

The juniors had been given a free day following the test, given the gruelling nature of the exam and the amount of study it required. Tessa hadn't entirely decided what she'd do with it. More likely than not, she'd end up sleeping – or catching up on all the Netflix she'd been forced to miss in the last few weeks.

"I don't really have any plans," she shrugged. "Why?"

"Excellent!" Will proclaimed. "I'll see you then."

"What? What does that mean? What are you planning?"

"That, my lovely Tessa, is for me to know and you to find out."

He bent his head to her ear, close enough that she could feel his breath ghost across her cheek. She had collapsed in his arms, had felt his heartbeat, and yet this – this felt different. This felt dangerous, like chasing lightning, like waiting for a storm to break and knowing there was nothing she could do to outrun it.

"Till tomorrow, Miss Gray."

Then Will was gone, leaving Tessa with only the speeding thrum of her heart and the sneaking feeling that she was in for a whole lot more than she'd been prepared for.

Hey, protip Tessa: next time you're thinking about the boy you're in love with, maybe don't do it while staring at another guy in front of said boy.

Tension, tension.

So, Will gets jealous, Clace becomes a little rocky, and tempers flare in the face of impending exams – but as physics so nicely taught us, when there is build-up…there is also release. I guess we'll just have to stay tuned to see how that works out ;)

This chapter is a little shorter than my usual, and I apologize for that, but it just didn't feel right to stretch this chapter beyond where it naturally ended. Not to worry, though, because there's plenty of good stuff coming up that will more than make up for it – and that's a promise.

As always, let me know your thoughts on this chapter, life, anything at all, really. I promise I read every single review, and they always make my day. I love hearing from you guys.

Till next time, take care!