"What do you mean she never came home last night?" Jonathan didn't say anything, just walked over to my desk and began looking through some of the sketches that lay scattered across the surface.
"Jon? Should we phone Luke? The police? I can't believe this is happening again." I whispered the last part.
"No, Clary, we can't phone the police. This is normal behaviour for her. And Luke was already here, he's out looking for her." I'm surprised at how calm he sounds. She didn't do things like this, not anymore.
"Look, c'mon downstairs. I'll make us something to eat." "I'm not hungry, Jon. Just put it in the microwave or something." I turned away from him and lay down on the bed. He looked at me for a moment, seemingly unsure whether to comfort me or leave me alone, and then left the room.
Once he had gone, I got off the bed, walked to my desk and pulled my sketchbook out. My fingers moved across the page involuntarily, my head filled with images of Mr Herondale, of things he'd said, his eyes skimming down my body while he bit his lip, his hand in mine. I snapped out of my daydream and looked down at the page. Mr Herondale was staring back at me.
The Next Night
Jonathan drove me home from school, like he normally did. Well, except from yesterday. He put his key in the door, turned to me, and said, "Do you hear that?" I tried to tune my ears to the sound. It sounded like…snoring? Jon turned the key in the lock and opened the door to find our mom asleep on the couch.
Jon and I exchanged a look before he nudged her shoulder, preparing to give her the 'and where have you been young lady?' speech. I grabbed a glass of water and went upstairs to my room, telling Jon that I had to get ready to meet Simon.
I stood in front of my mirror, debating how to style my hair. I wanted to look nice as I knew Mr Herondale was going to be there. I couldn't have him see me looking like a slob.
"Mom. You can't keep disappearing like this. I thought we were through with all of this!" Jon shouted at my mom. I couldn't quite make out her mumbled response but I heard Jon speak a couple seconds later. "That's not good enough! You can't do this to us mom. Clary needs you. I need you," he pleaded with her.
I heard footsteps coming up the stairs and past my bedroom, and then the sound of a door slamming shut. Jon.
I debated whether to go to him or not. I could tell he was in a really bad mood but I was unsure whether he needed comfort or to be alone.
I finished getting ready, pulled my jacket on, grabbed my bag and left my room. I walked down the hall, stopping to peer into my mom's room - she wasn't there.
I knocked three times on Jon's door and waited. He opened the door, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, his hair all messed up.
I wrapped my arms around him, my red hair just tickling his chin. "What's up?" he asked, pulling away but keeping his hands on my upper arms. "Nothing, I'm fine. I just wasn't sure if you were okay."
He smiled at me, "I'm okay. Are you going out now? Do you need me to drive you?" "That would be great, thanks," I smiled back. He lifted a shirt off his bed and pulled it over his head and then sat down to put his shoes on.
We padded down the stairs together and while he looked for his keys in the kitchen, I wandered about, looking for my mom.
"Got them," he told me, swinging his keys around his finger. I tried to smile but Jonathan noticed something was up. He always noticed.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" "Mom's not here. She's away again," I informed him, sadness evident in my voice. He ran his hands through his white-blond hair in frustration and let out a groan.
"Don't worry about it. Let's go," he said, recovering. We walked out to the car and he opened my door for me, waited while I got in, before walking around to the driver's side.
"Always a gentleman," I smirked. "Got to set you expectations, little sister," he chuckled, keeping his eyes on the road the entire time.
"Expectations? For what?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows together. "For how a man should treat you."
"You mean act like my brother? Gross," I said. "No, Clary, just don't date a dick," Jon said, gently shoving my arm.
"Never," I giggled. Mr Herondale treats me like that. He held the door open for me, he drove me home, he's helping me with my essay. Mr Herondale is a gentleman.
"You got enough money? Is Simon here yet?" Jonathan asked, jolting me from my thoughts. "Yes, I've got more than enough. I don't know, I'll just wait inside for him," I assured him. "Are you sure you don't want me to wait with you until he gets here?" "No, it's fine, honestly," I said, leaning across to hug my brother.
"Okay, if you insist. Enjoy the movie," he pulled away smiling. I thanked him as I got out of the car and walked into the cinema.
I went to stand inside and looked around. I didn't see Simon so I took a seat in one of the sofas they recently placed.
Around fifteen minutes later, ten minutes before the movie was about to start, I got a text from Simon.
Simon: I'm really sorry Clary, stuck in traffic. Not going to make it before the movie starts. Reschedule? :)
Clary: Yeah, that's fine. We can go next week. I'll just text Jon to pick me up. Talk later? X
I inwardly groaned and opened up my contacts on my phone so I could call Jon and tell him to pick me up. I scroll through my contacts, click on his name -
"Clary!" a voice shouted at me. I stood up, spun around and spotted Mr Herondale coming towards me, flanked by two handsome men who looked to be around his age.
"Mr Herondale, hey." I waved. He reached me and said, "Clary." I loved the sound of my name on his lips. "We're outside of school, you can call me Jace." "Okay, Jace," I giggled.
"Where's your friend? What's his name again?" he made a face as if he were thinking really hard. "Simon." I said. "He's not coming. Got stuck in traffic. I'm just going to call my brother to pick me up."
"No, Clary, you don't want to inconvenience your brother. You came out to have fun, you're going to have fun. You can sit with me." He was staring into my green eyes and I into his golden ones.
I tore my gaze away. "With you? And your…friends?" I asked nervously, looking at the floor. "They can sit somewhere else. C'mon." He wrapped his arm around my waist to drag me forward. "Um…okay, sure."
We walked over to his friends, his arm still around my waist. "Oy Jace, who's this?" his dark-haired friend asks. "His latest hook-up obviously," the other one said.
I blushed a deep crimson as Jace said, "Uh no. We're just friends." Friends? We weren't friends, he just couldn't tell his friends that I was his student, I reminded myself. He let his arm fall away from my waist and I suddenly felt cold at the loss of his touch.
He bought us popcorn to share and himself a large diet coke and me a large sprite. "Thanks but you don't have to pay for me," I told him. "I want to," he smiled at me. I thought back to Jon's words in the car. Jace really did fit the bill.
We walked into the cinema together and he shooed his friends away to go sit in the front and we sat in the middle.
Throughout the movie, our hands regularly touched as we reached into the popcorn bag, and every time I felt an electric spark on my skin. I wondered if he felt it too? We whispered commentary on the film to each other and I was surprised to find that we had very similar senses of humour.
Around an hour and a half into the movie, I felt the electric spark again. On my leg. I looked down and noticed that Jace now had his hand placed on my thigh, his thumb stroking my skin.
I felt my breath hitch in my throat and colour creep onto my cheeks. He smirked at me. I've noticed that he does that a lot.
His hand stayed there until the end of the movie and then made its way into my hand as we walked out. We reached the exit and I thanked Jace for letting me come with him. "It was my pleasure," he told me. "Hey, you hungry?"
"Starving."
Aww, Jon and Clary's relationship is super cute!
Review, follow and favourite my friends!