"Can you please just drop it, Izzy?" I ask exasperated, as we walk out to her car in a rush. "It's not a big deal."

"Are you kidding me?" Izzy retorts in disbelief with a hint of annoyance. "You should have seen yourself out there. You had a huge grin on your face, and it was obvious that you were having fun."

"Alright," I sigh. "I'll admit that I was enjoying myself, and it almost felt like old times, but I just did it to help out Bat and Malik. Plus, Edward said that they'd all get down on their knees and beg if they had to."

She laughs. "You still have them boys eating out the palm of your hand."

"Oh, please," I say, rolling my eyes at her. "And for the record, that has never been true."

"Whatever you say, Clary," Izzy mumbles as we split ways around her car.

I shake my head. Izzy and her crazy ideas. "Can you pop the trunk? I think I've got a shirt in there."

"Yeah, sure." She clicks a button, opening the trunk. "If you don't, I'm pretty sure that I do."

I look inside and find a red jacket, a pair of black leather pants, a black dress, and a blue, sleeveless, v-line shirt; all of which belong to Izzy. I know I had at least a t-shirt in here yesterday. I start shaking the clothes out, but still nothing. Where the hell is it? Just as I lift the dress, my white tank top falls. Yes! This'll work, I think as I drop the dress back down and snatch my shirt up. I look around and see that nobody is looking before quickly changing tops, then shut the trunk. I walk back over to the passenger side and open the back door, finding Izzy sitting in the driver seat.

"Aren't you going to class?" I ask, grabbing my history book and notepad.

She turns and looks at me with a small smile. "Yeah, but I wasn't gonna leave you out here by yourself."

"Oh," I say quietly. I know exactly why, and I don't feel like talking about that right now either; so I don't bother to argue that I can take care of myself. "Well, I'm done now, so let's go."

"You sure you got everything you need?" she asks, climbing out the car and shutting the door.

"Yeah," I answer, shutting the rear door.

"Alright." She locks the car back up. "Well, let's go get this day over with so we can pick Max up from school."

Jace

Bat and Malik are standing side by side talking when I enter the showers, and it gives me an idea. They seem to know Clary pretty well, so maybe I can get some answers out of them. Plus, there's the one question that's currently eating at me the most.

"Did you guys use to date that girl, Clary, we were playing with?" I ask, coming up to the shower on the left of Malik and turning on the water.

"No," Malik says as Bat mutters, "Nuh-uh."

"Why do you ask?" adds Malik.

"Just the way y'all were with her, I guess," I say as I begin washing my body.

"We've all known each other since elementary," Malik starts to explain. "And we use to hang out all the time, back in the day."

"Oh?" I am genuinely intrigued by this bit of information.

"We played all sorts of sports with her and her brother," Bat says shortly, and there is something in his voice that I can't quite put my finger on what it is. He sticks his head under the water and says, "Not to mention the partying."

"Yeah, those were the days," Malik says fondly. He turns his head towards me with a sad smile on his face, "Jon was one hell of a baller, too."

"The best captain ever," Bat says so low that I barely hear him over the showers and the others with their talking, laughing, and towel popping.

Even with all the other things going on, the mood in this particular area of the room has shifted dramatically from cheerful to dark rather quickly over this subject. It's apparent that they were close to Clary's brother, and that they still feel the loss of him. The effect he had, and apparently still has, on these guys, has me thinking that he was one hell of a cool dude as I wash my hair. And it really makes me wish that I had known him.

"Bat," I say, getting his attention and deciding to change the subject. "You said earlier that Clary hasn't been on the court in a long time, how longs a long time? And do you know why?"

"Well, this will make two years since she last played," Bat replies. "I'm not really sure why. I mean, I have my suspicions, but that's all I've got."

Two years? Two years. Wait a minute. Clary said her mom and brother died a couple of years ago. And she talked like it was her fault. She also said that not long afterward she went through all that shit with her dad and got herself emancipated. Is that what made her quit playing?

"I think it was a combination of things, personally," Malik says as I turn off the water. I grab my towel, wrap it around my waist, and look at him quizzically. "She just had to much happen to her in a short time frame."

Clary

I make it to study hall and am greeted with a puzzled look from Mr. Carstairs, who sits behind the counter at the computer. I know I'm not in any trouble, but he is wanting an explanation of some sort as to why I didn't come back during the last period. I decide to go with the simple truth.

"Sorry," I say, a little ashamed of myself. I should have just came back to the library, instead of putting on a show for a good chunk of the student body. "I was in the gym."

He raises his eyebrows, stunned. "Really?"

"Yes, really." I lean against the countertop, resting my arms on it with my books in hand.

"Hmm," he looks intrigued now. "Is there a boy we were watching?"

"No," I can't help but chuckle the word. "I was playing ball with Bat and the guys. They said they needed some help with the sophomores trying out for varsity this year."

"I see," he eyes me skeptically. "Are you sure it wasn't just some boy?"

I look at him like he's crazy, my eyebrows raised and my lips pooched out. "I'm sure."

"Okay," he laughs. "Just thought I'd check."

"Well, you should've known better than that. I'm going to be a monk."

Chuckling he responds, "There are no female monks, Clary."

"Yes, there are, just not legal ones. Don't believe me, look it up." I then sigh, rapping my right hand's knuckles on the countertop. "Well, I guess I better go finish up my history work."

"Sure thing," he says as I turn around, heading for the furthest table in the room. It's up the single step and is the last in a row of three tables that sit between the middle of the bookshelves. "If you need any help, you know where to find me."

I wave over my shoulder at him as I pass a few students sitting at the second table, in the second row of tables that line the main lobby. One of the boys looks up at me, then leans over and starts whispering to his friends, "That's her," while trying to be sneaky about his pointing at me. I roll my eyes and continue to my seat. I knew I had unintentionally drawn attention to myself with that game, which I could kick myself for, but I didn't think I'd be the talk of the school. I sit down in my chair, seriously upset with myself yet happy to be perfectly hidden away from all eyes in the room, and open my books. Maybe I can pretend like it never happened and that I don't know what people are talking about, I think as I look down at my first unanswered question. Ugh!

Why did Britain and France give into Hitler's demands?

Jace

Bat and I turn out to have the same class this period, too, so the two of us walk together after we've finished dressing. As we enter the room, I notice Mikey sitting at a table furthest from the door, reading. There is also a small brunette sharping her pencil to our right, two boys - one of which looks familiar - sitting at the second table, and no adult in sight.

We walk across the room, over to Mikey, and sit down. Bat sitting directly in front of him, and me sitting beside him. Being this close I can see that he is reading 'Romeo and Juliet,' and he really seems to be concentrating hard.

"You're still reading that?" Bat asks in a hushed voice.

Mikey peeks up at him over his book. "Yeah." He points down at what looks like three pages stapled together, and says, "Ms. Gray wants us to finish having all these quotes interpreted by Monday."

"Well, have fun with that." Bat chuckles quietly.

I open my notebook as the two of them fall into silence, and check out what I have left for history to do. I didn't accomplish much of anything, and admittedly I really only have myself to blame. If I would have focused more on my work, instead of on the beautiful, little redhead named Clary that was sitting beside me, then I would have been able to get more done. But I just couldn't help myself, especially with that prick Sebastian sitting in front of her.

I still can't believe that he didn't learn his lesson after last night. Oh, and seeing his face when he looked at me was funny as hell. He looked like he wanted to have another go at me again. I still laugh inwardly when wondering if he looked in the mirror this morning before coming to school. His nose looked like it was possibly broken, and he has two black eyes and a busted lip. I swear, I would've done more damage if it hadn't been for Jordan and his buddy, Simon.

As I open my textbook to get started on my work, I look up and am stunned by what I see. At the very back of the room, sitting all alone, at the last table, hidden away, is Clary. How on earth did I get so fortunate as to have her in three out of four of my classes every day? And luckier still, by getting to spend time with her during the one that she's not in, today?

Deciding that I have all weekend to get my work done if I don't finish it during study hall, I take a moment to watch her without her knowledge. She is truly the most beautiful female I've ever seen. She has sharp, well-defined facial features, and a couple of small, long curls have fallen down the side of her face. She has her left arm folded in front of her, between her and her book, which she is looking down at, and her right elbow is propped up on the tabletop as she taps her head with her pencil.

I glance over at Bat and Mikey, who are engulfed in their own work, and come up with an idea. Quietly gathering up my stuff, I stand and push my chair back in. Then, I head Clary's way. By the angel, please, let this work!

"Hi there, beautiful," I whisper, setting my books down on the table. She looks up at me, her eyes widening, and her lips part slightly.

"Are you stalking me?" she asks after a moment, and I smile.

"No," I say with a low chuckle. I sit down in front of her. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, I don't know. Maybe because you've been everywhere I've gone today," she states as if it is obvious, and I catch a hint of sarcasm in her tone, too.

"Maybe it's you who's stalking me." I tease, raising my right eyebrow.

"In your dreams," she rolls her eyes. "What do you want, Jace?"

"Some help with our history assignment," I say, playing it casually.

She closes her eyes, putting her right hand across half her face, and shakes her head. She slides her hand down her face, opens her eyes, and says, "There's not much to it. You just have to read the material."

Shit! That didn't go according to plan.

"Well, then, do you mind if I sit here," I ask to which I'm rewarded with an 'are you serious' kind of look; both her eyebrows raised and her right nostril flaring out slightly. - As odd as it is, I find her nostril flare sexy. - So I try to think up a new excuse quickly. Come on, Jace, think. Think, think, think. Why does she make it so hard to think? Ah, ha! "In case I have a problem finding an answer."

"By all means," she waves her right hand from left to right in the air. "It is a free country. Do whatever you want."

Sarcasm at it's finest, I think with an inward chuckle. "Thanks."

"Mm-hm." She looks back down at her book, and I open all my stuff back up.

"What page is it again?"

Bringing her right hand down, she holds her place, and flips back a few pages, checking the number. "Three ninety-seven."

"Thanks. Again."

"No problem."

The two of us sit and work on our history in complete silence, other than the occasional sound of one of us flipping a page. Every once in a while, I glance up at her. And a couple of those times, I caught her looking at me; both times her cheeks turned a light shade of red as she quickly looked back down at her work. I still wonder what that was all about. Was she checking me out, and got embarrassed because I caught her? Or what? I don't know, but I wish I did.

Once we even looked up at the same time, our eyes locked for a short moment, and we both smiled at each other. Angel have mercy, she has a great smile; even if it was just a small one that time. Though I have to admit, it had nothing on the one she gave me in second period, that smile was glorious.

But time moves to fast, and before long, she closes her books and gets up. Carrying her books, she walks off. I turn my head, looking over my right shoulder, and watch her; she knocks on an open door, on the opposite side of the room, then enters. A short moment later she comes out and heads toward the area of the double doors, where I lose sight of her behind the bookshelf to my right; so I don't know where she's gone. I don't even know if she'll be back to sit with me.

I turn my head back around and check my watch. I've still got fifty-one minutes left of study hall before it's time to head back to the gym for after-school basketball practice. It seems to me that they would've scheduled 'boys gym' for last period, instead of third, so that we weren't warming up, cooling down, and then getting fired back up again. Plus, it would have saved on the school's water bill, too. - They have it set like that for the next term; girls gym third period, boys fourth. - Oh well, that's their problem I suppose. And I am not going to complain, because this way I get to see Clary more; which helps with my plan to win her over.

"Hey, Clary." I hear a not so quiet voice say from behind me about five minutes later. I turn sideways in my chair this time to look. Mikey is walking toward her, and from his profile, I can see that he's grinning at her. She in return smiles at him, and the two stop at the table closest to the counter; the first table, in the first row.

I watch as the two talk in whispered voices to each other, Mikey leaning back against the table and Clary standing in front of him, holding some type of book against her chest with crisscrossed wrists. Whatever he is talking to her about he seems adamant; while she looks a little unsure, and maybe even a little less than amused. She shakes her head no, and he reaches out to her with his right hand; sliding it up, down, and back up her left bicep before resting it on her shoulder. - I really wish he'd take his damn hand off her already and not do it again. It's to intimate for my liking. - The two stare at each other and a few seconds later, he pushes out his bottom lip at her and bats his eyelashes. She laughs and shakes her head before saying something else to him. Whatever she says makes him happy, because he smiles at her and removes his hand. - Finally! - A short moment later, the two part ways; him heading toward the room Clary went into earlier and her coming towards me.

Yes!

I follow Clary as she walks over, sits back down where she was sitting earlier, and lays the book she's been holding down in front of her. It's a sketchpad. She lifts the front cover up, revealing the first drawing, which is of some guy that looks vaguely familiar to me for some reason, and eyes it for a few seconds before quickly turning two more pages; so I am unable to make out what the other drawings are. Now, one page is blank but the back of the other isn't, and it really captures my attention.

I point at it. "That's my birthmark," I say in wonder.

I know for a fact that she hasn't had the time to draw that between now and earlier when we were down at the gym. And she hadn't seen me without a shirt before then. Not that she was paying much attention. So how is this possible?

She looks at me as if I have lost my mind. "I don't see how that's possible when that's my birthmark." She pulls the left shoulder strap of her white tank top over to reveal her own birthmark. "See."

I move my gaze from her face, down her slender neck, over the curve of her collarbone; when a wave of desire that I've only ever felt towards her strikes through me. It's still so new to me, And I didn't think it was possible, but it's even stronger than it was last night and the Halloween from the previous year. It's so strong that it's unnerving.

When I finally rest my eyes on her shoulder, I go from wonder and desire to shock in less than half a second. Her birthmark is exactly like mine! It's the same star-shape. In the same spot. The same size. Even the same color, a pale white that almost looks like it could be a faded scar.

Dazed by this and never taking my eyes off hers, I pull the collar of my t-shirt down, revealing to her the same mark, in the same place, on the same shoulder, and I hear her gasps; shocked, I think.

We both sit here speechless, just staring at the others mark for a few moments longer until Clary shakes her head and finds her voice first.

"That's odd," she says dismissively, but sounds a little confused, too, and lets go of her strap.

"I'd say," I agree, fixing my shirt. I can't think of anything else to say. The only other people I know to have that mark is my father and every male in our family line for generations back. Only ever males. Yet, Clary has it. She's not related to me. And she's female. So what does this mean? Does it even have a meaning?

Clary

Sitting here in the library, drawing, until it's time to go, I can't seem to clear my mind. I just keep wondering about everything that's been happening lately. I'd really like to know what is going on. Have I done something wrong? Is this karma?

I thought I was doing a pretty good job at lying low. I haven't gone out partying, or any of the other things I've been told a million times that I should be doing in order to enjoy my teenage years. Hell, I haven't done much of anything in a long while. Sure I've gone to the Lightwood's home, my part-time job, out to eat with the Lightwood siblings from time to time, which includes Max every now and again. I've gone to the college campus maybe a dozen or so times, to pick or drop something off for Maryse, or to pick up Alec when he loaned his car out. I take Max to the park, sometimes. And of course, I've gone shopping with Izzy numerous times, because she won't take no for an answer and always hounds me until I agree. - Though admittedly, it never takes long for her to talk me into it. Her being a weakness and all. - But other than that, the only other place I really go is school. So why are all these strange, and creepy, things happening to me lately?

First, there's this Jace character, who abruptly comes into my world last night, and all that entailed while we were around each other. Second, there's whoever was watching me while we took Max trick-or-treating. Third, the Sebastian ordeal when I got home.

He hadn't made a move that bold in months, and he never went that route before; showing up at my place and trying to force himself on me the way he did. Usually, it was him just trying to get me back, and his wanna-be threats. And he hadn't even done that in months. For the most part, it's only been his on again off again flirting from afar. So, why last night?

Next comes that phone call. Which leads me to believe that there will, in fact, be more phone calls like that one and that being watched is far from over. Honestly, I think the two are connected. I mean, they knew what I was wearing for heaven's sake, so they were obviously watching me.

There's also my dream with Jon. That was so beyond strange. He was here, or there, I'm not sure. I touched him, and it felt so very real like it did when he was alive and we'd hug. The way he talked as if he has been by my side every day this whole time, and knew what's going on. The way he was there, then was somebody else; Jace to be specific. The things he said right before that happened. If it wasn't for that damn phone call, I might have gotten some answers.

Then throw in all that's happened today since then. Jace is in all but one of my classes, every day until this semester is over in December. Being watched at lunch, by somebody I couldn't find, again; just like last night. Mikey wanting me to come play basketball with them after school, during practice; which I do kind of get since I played with them last hour. However, he then invited me to come play with them at the park over the weekend. - I told him I wasn't making any promises, but I'd think about it, which he got all happy and excited about. - Which brings me to the latest. Jace having the exact same birthmark as me.

How can that be possible? I didn't know people could have identical birthmarks. I'm going to have to do some research on this because it's bugging the hell out of me. I've known three sets of identical twins, and not even they had matching birthmarks. But, Jace and I sure as hell do. Not only are they a perfect replica of the other, down to the size, shape, and color, they are also in the exact same place. If that isn't just strange and a little creepy, I don't know what is. It's just plain weird! And truthfully, completely mind-boggling. That can't be karma. Not something like that, right? I mean, seriously, what would the purpose be behind that? It just makes no sense.

I look away from the current drawing, that I've been mindlessly working on, and back at the one that started this discovery, and actually focus on it. Looking to it for answers in a way. Crazy, right?

The star that's in front stands out the most, but what I hadn't noticed before is that, at the end of the swirling vortex that surrounds it and drifts off into the distance, is another star that is much smaller. And for some reason, I drew a peace symbol at the top left corner of the same page and a set of smiling lips on the top right. Beneath the stars and vortex, I've drawn a broken heart that has been stitched back together. I don't understand why I've drawn these things. And to add to the confusion, I sure as hell don't remember drawing them.

When I had first drawn this picture, early this morning after I ran out of possibilities on who it could've been that made that phone call, I was in a bad way. I just wanted to be sucked away from everything. To disappear. To go someplace where nobody knew me and be by myself. That's what the vortex meant to me at the time, now I'm not quite so sure. However, I don't understand what it could mean. I don't understand any of my drawing at all, and that's disturbing in itself. I try to shake off the feeling. I mean, it's not like this is the first time that I've drawn something and didn't understand what I meant by my drawing afterward. It's not even the first time involving my birthmark! Or even multiples of it.

The bell rings, pulling me from my thoughts, and I quickly close my sketchbook before hurrying out of the room. I don't need anything from my locker, seeing as I finished my history in study hall, and the only thing I would have gone back for is already in my hands. So with that in mind, I head down the stairs and out the side door to meet Izzy, who should be heading back from the drama club.

Needless to say, I don't catch her in time. I really don't want to go back into the building and take another chance of missing her, so I decide to head out to her car and wait for her there. I hope she's quick because I want to get as far away from here as possible. I don't want any more attention from anybody. Thank the heavens it's Friday, and people have a couple of days to forget about the spectacle I made of myself in the gym!

Once I reach the car, I sit on the hood and wait. I grow more impatient with every second, and every passerby that points in my direction while mumbling something to their friend or friends. Come on, Iz! I mentally plead with her. Hurry the hell up! A few minutes pass, and they seem like an hour, yet still no Izzy. What could be taking her so damn long?

I lay back on the hood and close my eyes, trying to calm myself down. She's not taking any longer than usual, so I need to chill the hell out. I take a deep breath, and as I release it, that's when I feel it again. The feeling of being watched, of eyes burning into me.

I open my eyes and look around. The parking lot is clearing out, but no matter where I look, I don't see anyone looking at me, or even in my general direction. I sit up and look towards the school building, nobody again. I glance around my surroundings again yet still nothing. What in the fucking hell is going on? Who is fucking watching me? And where the hell are they hiding? I really hate this! Watching over my shoulder.

Vaguely, I wonder if my father is behind this. Maybe he's decided that he hasn't tortured me enough. That he has decided that I'm not out of his life enough, and either wants me dead or committed to a mental hospital. Then I roll my eyes at the idea. I've stuck to his wishes, and have even gone beyond that by getting a job; so that I don't have to bother him, or I should say his secretary, about needing money, if I were to run out of my 'monthly allowance' that he has her transfer into my checking account each month. What a dad, I think sarcastically. Paying his child, the only one he has left, to stay out of his life.

I feel a tap on my right shoulder blade, that pulls me from thoughts of the asshole and turn around to see Izzy holding her cheerleading uniform over her left arm. She looks worried and a little frustrated. I wonder what has her panties in a bunch, but I'm sure I'm going to find out.

"Why didn't you answer me?" she hisses.

I look at her perplexed. "I didn't know you did."

"Well, I did." she states, before turning all dramatic on me, "At least a hundred times."

I chuckle. "A hundred times, huh? I'm sure I would have heard you at least one of those times if you had."

"You know what I mean," she huffs. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah." I slide off the side of the hood and stand at the passenger door.

"It's already unlocked," she mutters as she rounds the driver's side. Boy, what is she so pissed about? She's never been this upset over me not hearing her.

I open the door, climb into the passenger seat, and wait for her to get in. Once she does and starts the car, I decide to see if she's going to tell me whether or not something else is wrong. When we are a block away from the school, I come to the conclusion that she isn't and decide to break the silence.

"What's wrong, Iz?' I ask sincerely concerned. Then I wonder if they were acting in drama class today, too, and she's just still stuck in her role. It's been known to happen before.

She audibly inhales and then blows the air out her mouth. "I have to be at Tiffany's at four thirty now, instead of six. We have to run through all the new cheer routines and some of the old ones as usual. But now, we also have to add coming up with a new dance performance for the football's senior night."

"Why?" I ask stupefied. There's nothing wrong with the one they have.

"Apparently, when Principal Penhallow watched the video, she said that it was too provocative," she explains, her voice mixed with exasperation and anger.

"That's ridiculous! It's mild compared to last years." I say, getting upset by the outlandish theory. I know this for a fact because I've seen both. "She's just pissed that Aline didn't get picked for either captain spots."

"I know," she sighs. "But it means that I won't be home tonight, because we're having a brainstorm sleepover after practice."

"Well, I have faith that you and Tiff can figure it out," I tell her truthfully. "You two weren't appointed captains for nothing."

"Thanks, Clare," she says sounding at peace, and smiles. "You always know what to say to cheer me up."

I smile at her, delighted that I could help her feel better. "You're welcome."

"You know what this means though, don't you?" she asks amusedly.

"Yeah, that I'm going to get to spend time spoiling Max. All. By. Myself." I laugh, feeling excited. I love that little monster! And I know, he'll help take my mind off everything that's been going on.

She laughs, too. "Just wait until Max hears about this."

Sorry for the late update. I had thought that I posted it already, only to discover that my mommy brain was wrong. Lol. Fingers crossed that I'll have chapter ten up soon. (Summer break for kids means way less time for little else.)

Anyway, I hope you have enjoyed this chapter.

As always, don't forget to review, follow, and favorite. Mwah!

Also, for those that have left reviews about wanting me to continue, I promise you that I will finish this story (as well as High School Sweethearts 3)! I can not handle that they are currently unfinished. I'm just not sure as to when I'll have them both done. Slowly but surely, I suppose. I do want to send you all a special thank you though. Your reviews really mean a lot! They make me want to hide in the closet just so that I can try to get you another chapter. Haha.