Sorry for the long wait. Here's the new chapter.
"Not an answer"
Jace
There are multitudes of types of answers but some "answers" really don't count. Lies for instance, they don't count simply because they lack truth. Short answers can count but it depends on the question. Some answers long or short just are not acceptable. This will make sense in a little bit...
I walk to art class where I find Clary already in her seat. Smirking, I take my seat beside her and prepare to start shamelessly flirting with her. I've noticed exactly how much it gets under her skin but I can tell she enjoys it a little even though her better judgement is fighting against such ludicrious thoughts. That just makes me enjoy it more. It's fun for me because she's one of the few people who can keep up with me. She keeps me on my toes.
I give a small tug at her hair which is in her face and say, "Nice cherry locks but they're covering your face. You aren't hiding from me are you?"
She doesn't reply.
"Hello? I'm talking to you." I say, swinging her hair back and forth like a tail.
"Leave me alone Jace." She mumbles tiredly, taking the strand of her hair from my hand. Our fingertips brush and mine tingle.
Well that's weird. I look around and see nobody else here but us and the teacher.
"That's better. You're talking but you don't sound so great. Are you okay?" I reply, truthfully very concerned but trying not to show it.
She nods.
"Nodding isn't an answer." I report.
She whips around and glares at me. Her eyes are puffy and red; she looks like she's been crying.
"Nodding means yes, you ignorant imbecile. Why can't you just leave me alone and bother someone else? I didn't ask for this and I'm tired of you constantly being an annoying, self-centered jerk!" She whispers harshly.
Okay...
"I just asked you if you were okay; that isn't self-centered." I point out.
"Oh congratulations! You acted like you gave a crap about someone for a couple of seconds. Good job! Someone give the boy a medal!" She whisper-yells as her face turns as red as her hair. On a normal day I would inform her of this but not today. She's acting really strange.
"Whatever it is that happened to you. I'm sorry for it." I whisper, looking into her eyes for just a second before quickly dropping my gaze. Do I really want a girl I've known for two weeks to know that I might care about her?
She glares harder but it doesn't hide her confusion. "Why does something have to have happened to me for me to get tired of your crap?" She demands.
"You aren't tired of my crap because it's a game of ours. I give you grief and you set me straight. It's fun. You enjoy it too; I've seen it in your eyes." I tell her quietly.
"You saw wrong." She whispers before gathering her things and storming out of the classroom leaving me stunned.
After school...
Jace
Clary's outburst in art makes everything increasingly confusing. I feel as though I should do something to help her. When she took off I felt like I should've run after her. This is an issue because I'm feeling things for her. My father taught me that to love means to destroy so my possibly having feelings for Clary needs to stop. I don't want that girl getting hurt because I screwed up by not being able to control myself. Father would be ashamed of me and he's who I decide to see once school gets out. I take my car and drive to the graveyard to visit his grave.
I stare at the tombstone and wonder if he would've liked what I picked out for him. Not that it matters. You see, I loved my father so it's my fault he died. "To love is to destroy" this includes any kind of love, even the innocent kind of love a son has for his father. So I loved him and I destroyed him. He also said that "to be loved was to be the one destroyed" which means he didn't love me, otherwise I would be dead too. He was strong and I was weak-as always.
"Hello Father." I begin. "I'm here to talk to you about a transgression of mine. I worry I may have feelings for a girl at my school. It's foolish; I know. She's just so wonderful and there's this light to her that I've never seen before. You would be bitterly disappointed in me if you were here but you aren't and I'm sorry. It's my fault. I should've been stronger but I gave into my weakness. I can never apologize enough for that. I'm not here to talk about you though. I'm here to talk about her. She makes me feel alive and I barely know her. It feels as though I've known her forever though, but that's one of the oldest clichés in ludicrous romantic fantasies. It's the sort of thing twelve year-old girls say, not the words of an intelligent seventeen year-old boy. I'm nearly a man but I don't want to act like one. I don't know how. I'm sorry but I don't. I'm going off on a tangent but I don't know what to do. You're dead and Mr. Lightwood is never around so I have no example of what a man should be. I don't know what to do-you would have beat me senseless if you heard such words escape my lips but they've never been more true. I'm sorry sir but I'm lost. I lack the knowledge required for me to move forward in life. What do I do about the girl? How do I become a man? I need answers. Please."
I wait, as if his grave or tombstone may actually offer me guidance. The wind blows but it is not an answer or if it is, it isn't any answer I've ever heard of.
I turn to leave when I see a flash of red hair in the distance. I look for the red and see a girl on the hill with bright red hair. A strange feeling builds up in my gut and I know it's Clary up there. I'm surprised at myself for making such an assumption but my feet carry me up there and I discover that my blind hypothesis was correct. I'd never have guessed exactly what I see though. She's sitting at a grave with flowers clutched in her hands and she's weeping.
"Hey Clary." I say quietly before I can stop myself.
She doesn't answer and I nearly turn around and run away but then she looks up at me.
"Are you here to mess with me? Because I'm not in the mood." She says through her tears.
"No, you get a pass when you're in tears in front of a gravestone. May I ask whose it is?" I say softly.
"It's my twin brother Jonathan's. He died in a car-crash. I've lived here all my life but school wasn't the same without him so I transferred to yours." She whispers.
I don't say anything.
"What? No snide comment? Ha, you couldn't take going to school without your brother! You're such a pathetic coward! Go ahead! Say whatever you want! I've already told myself every nasty thing I can think of. Try surprising me with something new-I dare you." She says, glaring at me with bloodshot green eyes.
I sit beside her and whisper, "Death isn't a joke. I won't tell anyone your secret."
"Why are you roaming around in a graveyard anyway?" She asks.
I just shrug.
"That's not an answer Jace." She points out.
Another spring breeze hits us and I lean back to enjoy it. "Oh, but it is Clary." I reply.
