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Chapter 8

Jace scanned the parking lot for the C-class, wanting to leave the school as quickly as possible, feeling the dull throbbing of a headache coming on. The first weeks of school had that affect on him-they seemed to suck his strength away, replacing it with an irritable feeling that he hated. Was this what it was like to have PMS? If it was, he would be a hell of a lot nicer to Izzy when she was on her lady time.

Spotting the Mercedes, Jace started to make his way to it, only to be stopped by a long-nailed hand on his arm. He turned to see Aline Penhallow, dark hair pushed over one shoulder, a smile frozen on her pretty face.

"Hey, Jace. You still coming to my party this Friday?"

Jace sighed internally. "Yeah, I said I would, remember?"

He'd only known Aline for seven hours, and she was already as clingy as wet sand. He'd said he'd go to the goddamn party four times already. She may not be blond, but she sure as hell was acting like it. Then again, Jace was blond, so he couldn't really think that with out implying anything about himself.

Aline's voice brought him out of his reverie. "You wanna come over and study tonight?"

She'd moved closer to him. He could smell her perfume-the perfume she sprayed way too much of.

"Study what?" he asked, though he knew it had something to do with their anatomy. "It's the first day of school."

Aline rolled her eyes and gave him a you're-so-cute-it's-un-believable look, not unlike the kind given to puppies.

"Oh, I didn't mean study anything school-related, silly." She put a h& on his chest and shoved him playfully. "Though I guess we could wait until we have some schoolwork to study. How about this Saturday night?"

Jace cringed. A date? With this girl? But what else was he going to do? It wasn't like his social calendar was bursting yet.

"Sounds great," he said.

"Perf!" Aline practically squealed. She planted a kiss on his cheek. "See you then!"

Turning his back on her retreating form, Jace started to walk toward the C-class, only to be stopped again by a tall, dark-haired boy wearing a varsity letter jacket. The name Sebastian Verlac popped into his mind.

"You Jace Wayland?"

Jace sized him up before replying. "Yeah. Who wants to know?"

"Me, obviously. I saw you talking to Clary Fray earlier today."

"Yeah. She was showing me around."

"I'm gonna say this once: stay away from her, understand? She's mine."

Jace rolled his eyes. "From what I've heard, she dumped your sorry ass after you cheated on her last year. I don't really think she qualifies as "yours" anymore."

Verlac's mouth curled into a sneer. "That was a... misunderstanding."

It was Jace's turn to smirk. "Yeah. You fucking around with cheerleaders while you're dating her. Some may misconstrue that as cheating. But I'm smarter. I know it was your six-monthaversary present."

"Just stay away from her. Or you'll be sorry."

And with that, he turned and stalked away, leaving Jace alone.

By the time Jace finally managed to make it to the C-class without being cornered, Izzy and Alec were waiting for him. He got into the car without a word.

"What's that?" asked Izzy, pointing at his face. "You already have a girlfriend? Whose lipgloss is that?"

"Aline Penhallow's," replied jace blandly. "She just asked me out."

"All the girls in the school to choose from, and you go for a slutball? I always knew your taste was bad, but now I know it's downright repulsive. And just so you know, if you get an STD after doing it with her, Mom and Dad'll be pissed."

"Whatever, Izzy. You do whoever you want, and I'll fuck around with all the sluts I want."

Clary banged her way into the house, dropped her messenger bag on the piano bench, and fell onto the couch, closing her eyes. How did she get such bad luck? On the way out of school, she'd nearly run into Sebastian. He'd tried to make amends for what he'd done-again-and she'd blown him off-again-and she'd slipped on a Coke can someone had dropped on the steps, slipping down them and getting a huge bruise on her ass. Life. Fucking. Sucked.

"Clary? You home?" came her mother's voice.

"Yes. Can I have some asprin? And any chocolate in the pantry?"

"I take it the day went horribly. The last time you asked for chocolate on the first day of school, you'd gotten your period and-"

"Mom!"

"Sorry, honey. Why don't you tell me about it? Releasing your mind's burdens will be good for your soul."

Rolling her eyes, Clary pushed herself off of the couch and shuffled into the kitchen.

"I'd rather not. But I wouldn't say no to that." She gestured at the fudge cake sitting on the counter.

Jocelyn Fray smiled, tucking a stray curl of coppery hair, so much like Clary's, behind her ear. "Luke picked it up today for you..

"Well, we can't let it go to waste, then." Clary grabbed a knife and cut herself a large slab of the sumptuous cake. She sat at the table and began shoveling the cake into her mouth.

"Where's Luke?"

"In the store. He said if you didn't have too much homework to come and help him."

"I'll go when I finish this. God, it's rich. Can I have some milk?"

"Hf course, sweetie. It's in the fridge."

Rolling her eyes, Clary got up and poured her milk.

"Oh, I meant to ask you. What do you think of this?" Jocelyn reached into a cupboard-her art cupboard-and pulled out a freshly-painted canvas. She held it up for Clary's inspection. "Not too bad, huh?"

Clary's eyes widened. "That's fantastic! Paris at night?"

"You can tell! I thought it looked too much like Manhatan."

"Not at all. It's spectacular." Clary's bad mood evaporated. Her mother's art had that affect on people. Its beauty made you feel as if your problems were gone. Clary wished her art did that. Her mother said that Clary's art was beautiful too, but in a more dark and intimate way. Clary didn't want he art to be dark. It reminded her of how things used to be, when her father, Valentine, was still there, spreading darkness over everything.