Chapter playlist: (I highly suggest playing it throughout the whole thing, k)
- I'm The One by DJ Khaled
- Uh Huh by Julia Michaels
- Party Monster by The Weeknd
- HUMBLE. by Kendrick Lamar
- Tonight by Enrique Iglesias
- Thunder by Imagine Dragons
- Just Call by Prince Fox
EDITED: JUNE 4TH, 2017
They'd spent all afternoon strategizing about different ways they might be able to break Jace Herondale's heart. Clary had been distracted for most of it, analyzing Isabelle and wondering if she had really hit the mark.
If Isabelle really liked Jace.
If Jace had really broken Isabelle's heart and this was her way of getting revenge.
And she was still thinking about that, hours later as they rushed to get ready for a bonfire on the beach Alec and Magnus had been invited to after the girls had come inside.
"I can't believe they waited an hour before telling us!" Izzy exclaimed, tossing her hands up into the air. "Magnus knows how long it takes to do our makeup." Currently, Isabelle was doing her eyeliner, and Clary was amazed at the fact that that melodramatic arm maneuver hadn't messed up the winged line Isabelle had been drawing on her eyelid. She was even more amazed that Isabelle had already finished contouring and highlighting her face—Clary was still blending out the darkish colour on the hollows of her cheekbones and the sides of her nose.
"Are you kidding?" Clary demanded, facing the mirror in their shared en suite. It was barely big enough for the two of them to see their reflections simultaneously. "You're almost done! I'm about halfway, maybe."
"Well that's 'cause you did your hair first." Isabelle motioned with one hand to the carefully-done loose curls hanging down Clary's back.
They were silent for a while, and after a coat of matte red lipstick, Isabelle said, "Voila! My masterpiece is complete!" and went into the bedroom to change.
Isabelle remerged in a strappy blue crop top that pushed up her boobs and white jean shorts that made Clary cringe just thinking of all the things that could be spilt on them. "Hey do you think you can help me with my eyeliner?" She asked.
"Yeah. Sit on the counter or something, I don't think I can bend that low."
Clary hopped up onto the counter. "Oh, real nice."
"Aren't I?" Isabelle grinned and set to work on Clary's eyeliner. A few minutes past before Isabelle spoke again. "Done. Come on, I found the cutest top in my suitcase. I think it would look super cute with those high-waisted shorts you have."
"The ones with the buttons?"
"Yeah, those."
Clary wriggled her eyebrows. "You think the top'll do all the work and seduce Jace for me?" The plan they'd come up with this afternoon had multiple down sides, the main one being that there was no other way for this to work than for Clary to break Jace's heart. Isabelle, for whatever reason, thought it would make him hurt the most.
Isabelle tipped her head back as she laughed loudly. "It just might."
Because Jace, obviously, was coming to the party with them. Clary highly doubted, however, that he would hang around with them. Probably Alec, but no one else. She realized then that despite his popularity among people for his looks, he had very little friends. At school he had always been surrounded by people, but where were they all now? As far as she knew Jace's phone wasn't ringing off the hook with people eager to talk to him. How lonely it must be, Clary thought, to have only one friend.
Isabelle, who had been digging through her suitcase, muttering about Oh where had she put that stupid thing? Finally spun around holding up a small knit tan and white crop top and looking triumphant.
"Iz," Clary laughed. "Why did you buy that in the first place, it looks tiny."
Pulling back to look at it, she nodded. "Oh, it is, trust me. It's a bra on me."
"Are we ready to party?" Isabelle grinned at the boys, all sitting dressed plainly—next to the two of them, and Magnus, at least, who's hair had suddenly regained its bright teal highlights and wore a silk teal shirt with a beaded design on both sides of the slit down the front. His hands were decked out in so many rings Clary wondered how he managed to get them all on.
"Always," Magnus grinned excitedly and pulled Alec up by the wrist. Alec gave a startled expression as Jace stood up lazily, his curly hair stylishly messy and his eyes a dull, dying gold. His eyes roved over Isabelle's figure, and then Clary's. He paused at the shirt.
Clary smirked.
The bonfire was so hot you couldn't stand next to it without it feeling like your leg hair was being singed off, Clary realized as she bent to grab some beer bottles out of a cooler. She had no idea whose it was, but whoever they were, they were now two beers short.
The boys had long since disappeared—Alec and Magnus dancing together somewhere in the crowd, she assumed, and Jace off to find an adoring crowd of fans—and Clary had felt bad leaving Isabelle alone on a log set up by the fire to watch the roaring flames.
When she returned Isabelle smiled a wicked, conspirator smile at her. "Ready to break Jace's heart?" She asked, and then glanced around. "You remember what you need to do?"
"Faze one," Clary grinned, "Make him jealous."
"Go get it, tiger," Izzy stood and pulled Clary up with her.
"What?" Clary raised her eyebrows.
"You heard me," Isabelle took a swig out of her bottle. "Now go."
Isabelle soon disappeared from her line of sight, weaving in between the crowd, probably to find her brother and Magnus. Clary began wandering around, figuring it was as best a way to find Jace as any. She noticed large speakers set up, and then she began to notice the song that was playing, and decided to dance. She felt shy at first, feeling weird when she moved her hips or when she raised her arms as she shouted along with everyone else to the song[K1] :
By the end of the first song, she found herself swaying along to the beat of the next, laughing and drinking her nearly empty beer. She spotted a guy who, from the back, looked not too bad. She thought Jace had to be around here somewhere, and if he saw her kissing someone, specifically someone attractive, he might feel even a small spark of jealousy—and that was all she needed him to feel.
But then the guy turned around, and his chocolate-y eyes and curls reminded her too much of Simon for her to consider making out with him any more than she already had. She wrinkled her nose and tipped her head back to drink the last little mouthful of beer in her bottle. It wasn't particularly good, but it made her feel good, and that was all she really ever wanted from her alcohol.
She was still dancing when she spotted Magnus and Alec through a gap in the gyrating bodies. Their lips were locked together and Clary felt a blush spread across her cheeks at witnessing something she probably wasn't meant to, but thinking all the while how happy she was they had found each other. She turned away and continued her now-steady rhythm of dancing to the song—it was so familiar, but she couldn't remember the name for the life of her.
"You shouldn't be drinking that," an all too familiar voice chastised her from behind. She spun around, a lazy smile spreading across her lips.
"So? If my memory serves, I can recall a certain someone"—she jabbed a finger at his chest—"getting absolutely wasted and running naked down Broadway."
Jace cocked an eyebrow at her. "And if my memory serves, you're a lightweight, Fray."
"How would you know?" Clary backed up a step, removing her finger from where it rested on his chest, suddenly feeling much too close. The world felt too close.
He sighed. "It's true, isn't it? Come on, I'll take you home."
He reached out toward her, and Clary backed up another step. "Nah, I think I'm good." She dropped her empty bottle and grabbed someone by the shirt and pulled him to her. She put her lips to his; standing on her tiptoes, and kissed him hard. The guy obliged her, kissing her until she pulled back. She looked back at Jace, his face contorted into something she couldn't quite place. "Thanks for the concern, though," she told him sarcastically and floated back into the throng of the crowd. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she realized how much she'd enjoyed that; seeing Jace seethe. God, maybe this plan would be fun.
After maybe ten minutes of just wandering around, Clary found Magnus and Alec hanging out on the edge of the party. Magnus looked a little frustrated, and she soon understood why.
Alec was absolutely smashed.
He was perpetually smiling, his hair a mess and hanging in front of his eyes as he leaned heavily against his boyfriend. His cheeks were flush with colour and she couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of her throat. "Guess Alec's not very good with beer either?"
Magnus groaned, trying to shift Alec's weight. "It's never that easy, Biscuit."
"Clary!" Alec shouted, his eyes going wide. Clary thought he looked rather like an excited child.
"Alec!" She mimicked, laughing.
"Your hair, it's so red. Has it always been so red?" He asked in wonder, twirling a strand around his pale finger.
"Yeah, Alec."
"Amazing," he wiped a tear from his eye, voice full of awe.
Clary couldn't contain her laughter. And neither could Magnus, apparently, because he laughed so hard he bent forward and Alec lost whatever grip he'd had on Magnus or Magnus lost whatever grip he'd had on Alec, and Alec fell to the sand.
Alec didn't find it nearly as funny as she and Magnus did: "Magnus!" he slurred. "My tush!"
"God, Alec," Magnus all but cackled, "You gotta help me out here and stop talking or we're never going to get back to the house."
Alec frowned, his dark brows furrowed like he was thinking very hard about something. Clary bent down, about to help him out, when he stage-whispered: "Wanna know a secret Clary?"
"Sure, Alec," Clary chuckled, pulling him up to his feet with no small amount of difficulty.
"Jace looveeessss yooooouuu," he sang. Clary froze. She dropped Alec. He frowned up at her, rubbing his "tush".
Magnus's jaw dropped open, and his voice was slightly breathless when he asked, "What did you just say, Alexander?"
"I love it when you call me Alexander." He smiled and tried to caress Magnus's face, only to end up awkwardly groping his chin.
Magnus pulled away from Alec and went to grab Clary's hand. "No," she said. She felt several things course through her: anger of the strongest degree, the urge to burst out in tears, the sense that Alec was lying, that he didn't know what he was talking about, that it was just the cheap beer talking. This couldn't be true. Jace didn't like her, she didn't like him.
That's how it'd always been. That's how it would always be.
But so what if Jace liked her? So what if he used to? It didn't change anything. It wasn't like she wanted to have a heated make out session now that she knew. It wasn't like she liked him now.
Magnus had picked up Alec once more. "Clary, you can't believe that," he laughed, and if Clary didn't know better she'd say she caught a note of nerves in it. "He's drunk. He has no idea what he's talking about."
She didn't say anything. She wasn't sure. But how much sense would it make to put so much faith in what a drunken Alec said? Sure he was never usually one for lies sober, but that didn't mean his drunk self held himself to the same standard. God, she felt like her head was spinning on her shoulders. She felt like the world was too close again, like maybe if she could just take a step back, away from the flickering light of the bonfire, away from the deafening music, away from everyone, she might be able to make sense of everything.
She wasn't even sure what she was trying to make sense of at this point.
"Biscuit, why don't we head back to the house and talk about this?" Magnus tried.
"I don't want to talk about this, Mags," Clary rubbed at her temples. She was already losing faith in what she'd thought this summer would be—and it was only their first day in Virginia. She started walking; hoping if she walked fast enough Magnus would fall behind with Alec's weight to carry, too. But his long strides were apparently unaffected by the weight of a now-quiet Alec in his arms.
He nodded understandingly. "All right." Then after a pause he asked, "Well, do you want to watch Mean Girls?" A knowing smile. Clary groaned. She didn't want the offer to sound tempting, but it did—really tempting.
"Do you know all of my weaknesses?" She asked, barely able to restrain the smile.
"With coffee?" He said instead of simply Yes. This time she didn't try to hide the faint smile that began to play over her mouth.
So what if Jace liked her? she asked herself. It didn't change anything, so why should she let it?
Clary and Magnus burst out laughing, coffee splashing up out of her green mug with the motion. "This has got to be possibly the best movie I've ever seen or ever will see," she told Magnus through a laugh.
Magnus grinned at her. "Aren't you glad I subjected you to that 'torture' the first time I made you watch it?"
Clary nodded, brushing her hair back. She'd washed off her makeup while Magnus had put Alec to bed in their shared room. She snapped her head to look at Magnus abruptly. "Wait, did you bring White Chicks?" She readjusted her hold on her mug, careful not to spill anymore than she already had.
Magnus gave her an offended look. "How dare you ask such a question; of course I did."
The front door burst open and Clary flinched at the sound. Magnus glanced at her, concern scribbled over his features as Clary glanced over.
"Clary?" Isabelle shouted, voice strained with panic.
"Izzy?" She raised her eyebrow in question. She gave a little half-hearted wave. Isabelle rushed over to the couch Clary and Magnus were splayed out on, her arms wrapping around Clary's head and neck in probably the weirdest hug Clary had ever received.
"Oh my God, I was so worried about you I thought—"
"Something terrible happened to me?"
"Of course that's what I thought Clarissa! I already almost lost you once, and we're in freaking Virginia! I mean, for all I know you could've gotten kidnapped, or drugged or raped," Isabelle gushed, waving her hands as she spoke. "If you ever do you that to me again, rest assured I will strangle you."
"I'm fine Izzy, look at me. I'm here, I'm breathing. For all intents and purposes, I'm fine." Clary said, wrapping Izzy in another hug.
"God you can't do that to me," Isabelle sighed into the crook between Clary's neck and shoulder. The brunette lifted her head, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath, looking as relieved and tired as Clary had ever seen her—even more so than the day she'd gotten the heels she'd waned for really cheap at the Black Friday sale.
"Where's Alec?" Isabelle asked, glancing around, her eyes settling on the TV screen where Regina George was telling Gretchen Wieners that "fetch" was never going to happen.
"Upstairs," Magnus sighed. "In bed. Sleeping off the hangover, hopefully."
Clary flopped back against the poufy couch cushions. She took a long sip from her mug, watching as Isabelle stood up again and stretched her arms high above her head.
"I'm going to bed, okay? If I wake up and you're gone Clary, I swear I'll kill you myself," the tall girl promised as she headed to the staircase.
Clary nodded absently. "Mhmm, whatever you say, dear."
"Goodnight, peaches," Isabelle made a kissy noise from the stairs, blowing Clary a goodnight kiss.
About halfway through White Chicks, Magnus yawned obnoxiously loud. He stood up wearily. "I'm going to bed, Biscuit," he told her, heading to the stairs. Clary sprawled out even more on the couch, stretching out her legs and snuggling down. "You should try to get some sleep, too."
"Scout's honour," Clary saluted Magnus as he walked slowly up the steps. "…after I finish this movie."
Magnus yawned again and the last she heard of him was the click of his bedroom door opening and closing.
She watched the movie until her eyelids felt heavier and heavier with very blink, every passing scene. She couldn't even remember what part of the movie they were at when she opened her eyes after every blink. When her lids finally slipped closed, she didn't fight it.
Jace walked, drained, back to the beach house. He'd hadn't realized he had walked that far down the beach after his conversation with Clary—if you could call it that—and it had taken him far longer to walk back than he would have liked to admit. But he hadn't minded the walk, because it had given him some alone time with his thoughts, time where he didn't have to pretend he disliked Clary, didn't have to pretend he wasn't still devastated over that car crash that had all but stolen her away. It hurt to think that this Clary, while still Clary in nearly every sense of the word, was Clary, but not the Clary he knew.
But she didn't know that, and he didn't want her to because what if even if she knew, if she somehow remembered, she didn't care? What if she wasn't that Clary again, even with all her memories intact? Her relationship with him now was hateful and practically non-existent; what if it stayed that way even after she found out?
He pulled open the front door, and he did it so slowly it didn't make a sound. He listened for a second, to his quiet and evening breathing, and to the sound of a TV playing somewhere in the house. A faint light spilled out from the den on his left side. Curious, Jace walked over. He peered over the side of the couch and felt his heart take a bounding leap up into his throat.
He felt like he couldn't breathe right.
There was Clary, beautiful, passionate, unparalleled Clary. She looked so calm, so peaceful in her sleep that it reminded Jace for a startling second, of the Clary he had grown up with. It reminded him of the time she'd fallen asleep with her head on his lap one day while they watched movies.
Jace gave himself a little kick. He couldn't afford to think like this. He switched off the TV. He stepped closer to Clary.
Yes, he couldn't afford to think like this, but he'd allow himself sixty more seconds to do it anyways. He bent over and pressed a kiss to her forehead, wondering if he took everything he felt and put it into that chaste little kiss if it would all go away. But of course it wouldn't. Life wasn't that kind, and kisses didn't fix things for people the way they did in fairytales.
She stirred slightly in her sleep and rolled over to face the couch cushions. Goodnight, Clary, he thought and forced himself not to look at her again as he walked away.