This is part of an idea given to me by Serinity Shadowstar. If you have any ideas you want me to write, then PM me or, tell me the name of your best fanfic and I'll read and review that.
Also, sorry for the late updates. I have one word for you all. School.
Anyway, enjoy!
"I Won't Listen Anyway"
Jace
I nearly fall asleep in AP Calc for the second time in five minutes. I'm truly and utterly exhausted. Between Max's night terrors and my own nightmares, I've gotten virtually no sleep all week. Friday cannot come fast enough but of course it's only Thursday.
My eyes close for a brief second and Ms. Finchly calls, "Jonathan, wake up!"
My eyes snap open and I have trouble focusing my glare at her. I loathe when people call me by my first name. My full name is Jonathan Christopher Herondale, but I go by Jace because my father called me Jonathan and I don't want anyone else to have the privilege. Also, Jace sounds cooler than Jonathan.
"Don't you give me the stink eye young man, you should know better than sleeping in my class." She says.
"Why?" I ask lazily through a yawn. "I won't listen anyway. You know what I got on that last test."
The class laughs and I yawn again, really not feeling like dealing with any of this but continuing the charade for the good of the reputation I've created for myself.
"Jonathan, I'm giving you a warning. You don't want detention." Ms. Finchly states firmly.
"Are you sure? I could keep you company and we'd have a wonderful time." I say, plastering my legendary smirk on my face.
The class thinks it's funny except for a few nerds who sit in the front of the class and never laugh at anything. Ms. Finchly isn't too amused either.
"Hmm, it looks like you will have detention today." Ms. Finchly starts.
"Perfect, it's a date." I quip.
The class roars with laughter and Ms. Finchly looks even less impressed. "With Coach Saul in the athletics department." She finishes.
Crap. The football coach. Scratch that, my football coach. I am now officially royally screwed.
The class laughs even louder.
"Would anyone care to join him?" Ms. Finchly questions.
The class goes so silent, a pencil could fall on the floor and the sound would reverberate off the walls.
"That's what I thought." Ms. Finchly says and then she continues to teach the class.
Score
Teacher: 1
Idiot student conformer: 0
After class is over, Ms. Finchly keeps me for a few minutes. This will make me late for a detention I'm already going to get chewed out for and does nothing to improve my crashing mood.
Ms. Finchly waits until everyone else is gone (thank goodness) and begins saying things that make my skin crawl.
"Jace, are you all right honey?" She asks.
That's the thing about Ms. Finchly. She's actually a really sweet older woman who calls everyone "honey" or "sweetie". She has curly white hair and large black circular glasses with thick lenses. She's sort of short and honestly reminds me of a finch (the tiny but spunky bird).
"I'm fine." I say. I am fine. I don't need help or concern or pity. I'm okay. Always have been always will be.
"Why do you look so tired?" She asks. "It's not like you to fall asleep in class."
I shrug. "Must've stayed up too late. It's no big deal." I say.
"It is a big deal when one of my brightest looks ready to pass out from exhaustion." She says, smiling sadly at me.
"I'm fine, really. Can I have the detention slip now?" I say, ignoring her statement about me being one of the brightest. Compliments make me uncomfortable. Father wasn't too keen on them; he didn't say nice things to me and I wasn't to say kind things to him. Doing so shows affection and that's dangerous.
Ms. Finchly gives me another infuriating look of pity and doesn't hand me the slip. Instead, she crumbles it up and throws it in the trash.
"Why did you do that?" I ask.
"I'll let it slide this time, but if you do it again there will be consequences." She says.
I nod. "Thank you." I say staring at the floor as I force the words out.
"You're welcome. Stay out of trouble Jace." She says.
I can't help but grin. "Trouble? Me?" I ask.
She smiles and shakes her head. "Go home before I change my mind and make you clean the classroom instead." She says.
I nod, grab my bag and look at the clock. Crap. It's 3:30. I was supposed to pick Max up from his school half an hour ago. He's probably still there or worse-he tried walking home by himself. The thoughts send me into a panic and I start running through the halls, too distracted to see the caution signs until my feet are already out from under me and my head hits the ground hard.
Oh, they're waxing the floors today. Great.
Then all I see is black.
Jace
I wake up on something mildly soft and initially think it's my bed until I can't remember going back to the Lightwoods'. As I open my eyes, pain spikes in my head from the bright light and I shut them immediately. I open them just a little and see Coach standing by wherever I am and Ms. Finchly standing beside him. They're both staring at me. That's not strange or creepy at all. Then I remember what happened and ignoring the nearly excruciating pain in exploding in my skull, I sit up. Max. Oh crap.
"How do you feel Jace?" Ms. Finchly asks.
"I'm fine. I need to go now." I say, swinging my legs over the side of the cot. I'm in the nurse's office. Perfect; that's closer to the main entrance which is the closest entrance to the student parking lot.
"You need to stop moving son, you might have a concussion." Coach Saul says.
The word "son" makes me inwardly cringe. I'm nobody's son; not anymore. I stand and say, "I'll take the concussion test tomorrow before school. I need to do something."
I grab my backpack and head for the door, leaving both adults surprisingly quiet. I glance back and they're giving me horrible concerned looks. This is extraordinarily creepy.
I check my phone and see nine new messages. They're all from a number that isn't on my contacts list but I listen to them anyway. I'm surprised when I recognize the voice immediately. Clary.
