For the past two weeks, Clary has been receiving small sweet notes. All of them signed with Your Secret Admirer. Right now, yesterday's folded letter sit in her small hands. This time there was no poem, just a message. "Sweetheart Dance. I'll find you." Her prepubescent brain hasn't been able to deter from daydreaming about who the admirer could be. What does he look like? Do I know him? Have we talked?

A hand waves in front of her face, bringing her attention back to the noisy lunchroom. "Welcome back to reality," Simon grumbles when her green gaze return to him.

"I'm sorry." Clary looks at her hands atop of her lap in slight shame.

He purses his lips, and shifts his glasses higher on his nose when she meets his disappointed coffee brown eyes. "What is going on, Clary? You keep zoning out lately." Simon picks at his knitted sweater to distract himself from the threatening tears.

She admits she hasn't been acting like herself since she's been finding the notes in her locker. Inadvertently, she has managed to distance herself from her best friend. The same boy that had her back when the boys in pre-k made fun of her for not having a dad. The same boy that ran away with her last year, only to convince her to come back home. He even took responsibility when they were caught passing notes. Going through all of that, she still hadn't told him about these notes.

Hating the sight of him in distress, she relents. "I've been getting some notes."

Simon's head jerks up to look back at his red-headed friend. Narrowing his eyes, he questions, "Notes?"

Clary chews on her lower lip in apprehension. "They are signed with Secret Admirer." She speaks so softly, feeling slightly embarrassed. They never talk about these kinds of things. Simon breaks eye contact, and Clary tilts her head. "What?"

"Hm?" Simon's eyes bounce back to her, only to jolt to his mom's leftover lunch pack. "Aline told me that Coach Hodge is substituting for P.E. Do you think he'll make us run laps again?"

Becoming suspicious, Clary leans closer to the curly brown haired boy. Grinning widely, she slaps her hand on top of his roaming one. "Simon, do you know anything about this?"

His eyebrows rise up dramatically. "Psh, come on Clary." Ripping his hand away, his glassed gaze strays. The alarm sings, signaling the end of their lunch break. "Oh, we better get going," Simon squeaks, and grabs his lunch pack before walking away from the seething Clary.

"Simon Levi Lewis, get back here!" Clary quickly grabs her bag, throws her trash away, and runs to catch up to the annoying boy.


Yesterday Morning

After a much needed bathroom break, Simon takes his time walking back to science class. Nearing the hallway he spots another student. Doing a double take he finds the whole thing confusing, and decides to wait around the corner. He watches as a tall boy runs his finger across the lockers. Simon recognizes him from somewhere, but can't place him at the moment.

The boy's tan hand stops at a locker Simon knows well. With pinched brows he watches the boy scope the hallway before taking something out of his pocket. Concerned, he comes out from the corner and calls out to the boy. Meeting golden eyes head on, Simon remembers the popular boy. Jace was nearly four inches taller and quite intimidating for a thirteen year old. Still, Simon walked to him with his shoulders square.

"Do you know who's locker this is?" Simon questions.

Unruffled, Jace nods. "What's it to you?"

Simon gulps lightly, and pushes his frames higher on his nose. "I'm friends with the girl that owns this locker."

The brown haired boy's concern is underlining the statement, and Jace hadn't missed it. He immediately relaxes and smiles. "My name is Jace. I like your friend." He can tell that the forthright information stunned the boy. Within a few beats, the boy finally spoke, "Simon."

Standing there in the empty hallway, Jace told Simon everything. Shared his feelings about the girl with flaming hair. As Jace put the note inside the crack of the Clary's locker, he asked Simon for a favor. "Don't tell her. Whatever it takes, don't tell her."


Every chance possible, Clary has tried to single Simon out, he has managed to deflect. When their gym class started a game of dodge ball, he intentionally joined the opposite team. Being Simon Lewis, it wouldn't take much effort to be hit, but this time his face caught the ball. A nosebleed sends him straight to the nurse's office. During the walk, he thinks to himself, Only one more hour. One more hour and I'm free. In one hour, school will be over. Simon leaves early, making Clary walk home alone, and get ready for the dance.

Clary puts on her white flare dress, and looks at her reflection. She played on her natural beauty, and the white dress makes her skin illuminate. Her pale hands play with the ruffles around her stomach, laying diagonally across the fabric. Biting her bottom lip, she tries to calm her quickened heartbeat. A quick knock, and she looks to her mother staring in with a small smile. "You look so beautiful."

"No crying, mom. Save that for prom," Clay smiles playfully.

"Okay, smartypants. Let's go."

Two hours in, and her secret admirer hasn't appeared. Or has he? Clary's mind whirls with questions. Is he here? Has he changed his mind? Her shaking pale hand tightened around the paper cup, watered down tropical punch kool-aid sloshes about. About to take a sip, her eyes find familiar brown ones. She perks up, and readies to chase down Simon. However, he smartly joins a group of their peers in passing. "Simon Lewis!" Clary attempts to yell over the current song.

Another hour passes by. Clary is seated and discussing a pop quiz with Aline, to distract herself from the idea of being stood up. Aline pauses and oddly gazes past Clary. Then there is a shadow that towers over her. Confusion sets as she stares behind to see a cute boy who seems to be made of bronze. Dressed all in black, his skin glows in contrast. Clary sees his lips moving, but can't piece together the syllables to make sense. A gasp passes her lips when she feels a sharp pain in her shin. Aline had kicked her, as she was unaware she was staring at this boy with her mouth agape.

Clary smiles apologetically, especially as he nervously tugs at the hem of his shirt. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

The boy stands taller, runs his long fingers through his hair, and smiles. "Name's Jace. I was wondering if you would like to dance with me."

Again, Clary feels a swift kick, she turns to glare at her friend. Aline offers a nod in Jace's direction. Turning back around, she chews her lip in apprehension. Is he my secret admirer? If he is, why hasn't he said so? If he isn't, what will my secret admirer think?

Sensing the atmosphere, Aline aptly removes herself from the table. Quickly, Jace takes the empty chair and scoots closer towards the pretty, fair skinned, red-head.

Her shock from his actions confused him at first. "I forgot to tell you, didn't I?" I scoffs at himself. "Clary, I am your secret admirer." Short pause allows her process his words. "You look amazing tonight. Every day really." A blush enters her cheeks. She watches as he gulps deeply. Her emerald eyes take a moment to take in his boyish charms. Jace nervously bites his lower lip, and his hands are fists sitting atop of his lap.

To step out of the tension, she smiles. "Would you like to dance?" Jace tries to contain his energetic response, but jumps up quickly. Clary laughs from the swift movement, but grasps his hand tightly as she rises from her seat. Together they walk to an open space on the dance floor. It doesn't matter what happens after tonight, they just enjoy each others company.


A/N: Upon the kind request of eosteffel, this is Secret Admirer Finale. I didn't mention the age group in part one. Shame on me. The group are all middle school ages. eosteffel, I hope you, and the other readers enjoy. A huge apology for the long wait.