What Do You Think You'd Understand?

Jace

I sit in art class and wait for Clary to come. Her appearance will have both pros and cons. Since this is my life, the cons outweigh the pros because I may destroy her, (this is the most apparent of the cons,) but a pro is that being with Clary makes me feel lighter even for just a couple of minutes. I hate to admit it, but I could use that feeling these days. I keep feeling weighed down with everything lately: Max's almost death, all those fantastic words the Lightwoods shared with me, and to top that off, Alec hasn't been home in two weeks, Izzy's worried so she's been looking for him. Alec's eighteen so he's old enough to do whatever he wants, but he hasn't been answering his phone and Izzy's really freaking out, so is Max. Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Lightwood couldn't care less about their eldest son's disappearance, so it's up to the three of us to find him. Every night Izzy and I look for Alec in shifts. Izzy looks for him in the afternoon before the sun goes down, then I look for him until midnight, sometimes longer. The latest I can stay out is 1:30AM because Max's night terrors show their ugly faces around 2:00AM. We've tried to get help from the police, but they said they can't do anything if Alec's parents aren't involved. They seem to be under the impression that Alec has been kicked out. The thing is, I know for a fact that he hasn't been. If he were to leave for good then he would say goodbye to his little brother and sister. Alec has his flaws but he wouldn't leave Izzy and Max without closure of some sort. He just won't come home right now and it's worrying Izzy and Max. So yeah, there's a lot going on right now and I'd really like a distraction. It sounds like I'm using Clary, but I really just want someone to converse with.

Clary finally sits down and asks, " Are you okay?"

Crap. How does she know? This isn't the kind of conversation I was hoping for. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?" I reply forcing my face to fill with life and energy I truly don't posses at this moment in time.

"You look exhausted." She states.

I smirk. "Do you wanna guess what I've spent my nights doing?" I ask in the most node tone I can muster.

She rolls her eyes. "So you're going to tell another story about your nonexistent girlfriends?" She asks quietly as her eyes scan the room for a moment before landing on me again. I glance around too and notice people coming into the room. She's trying to protect my horrible reputation but also get the answers she wants. Why would she do that?

"They-" I start.

"If you want to talk to a real girl, I'm right here." She says.

I smirk again.

"Not in that way Jace. If you need to talk, I'll listen." She tells me. Her voice is so full of kindness I almost want to tell her everything. The key word there being almost, and as my father would remind me when I was young, almost is never enough.

"What do you think you'll understand?" I ask, giving her a look of pure skepticism. How does she expect to understand any of the things I might tell her? What does she think I'll tell her? How does she feel that she is qualified to have access to the thoughts inside my head? Why does she think she has the right to get a glimpse of the real me-to see into my soul more clearly than she already does? What does she think she'll see?

"I don't know if I could understand all of it, but I could try and at least then you would have someone to bounce your ideas around with." She replies.

Here we go with the loneliness card. Does she feel sorry for me or something?

"What's your deal?" I ask, suddenly feeling angry.

"What do you mean?" Clary asks, looking confused.

"Why are you so different from everyone else? No one else says strange thing so like that. No one else wants inside my head. Why do you?" I snap.

"I care about humanity and if I feel like someone is going through a rough time then I want to help that person." She responds, appearing more honest than anyone over the age of thirteen that I know.

"So this is out of pity? You didn't switch seats the first day because you thought there was something broken inside me?" I question in my harshest tone.

"No, it took a little while to see beyond the mask. There's so much good in you, I can see that. I can also see that you could use someone." She answers calmly.

"And that someone is you?" I ask.

"I don't know but I just wanted to help." She replies with a shrug.

"Is this some way for you to claw your way to the top? Is that why you talk to me? Do you think I'll date you and then you'll become popular?" I demand icily. Somehow I know it isn't true, none of the words that just escaped my lips are true, but I say these horrible things anyway because I want to hurt myself and the best way to do that is hurt someone I care about. This is another reason why Clary should stay away from me.

She looks shocked and hurt for a second, but then she glares at me and whispers, "Screw you."

"No thanks sweetheart." I reply with a smirk even though I can hear a miniscule cracking sound and immediately feel a sharp pain in my chest. It starts in my heart and gets pumped into my bloodstream as the steady thump-thump-thump of my heart becomes sporadic and pain courses through my veins. The pain envelopes my being before it dims just like everything else and I feel a hallow space where that bit of myself broke.

The bell rings and class begins. Even though it's just art, I can't even concentrate. Clary feels millions of miles away even though she's sitting right next to me. Why did I do that? Must I destroy everything I care about? Why did my father have to be right?

After class is over, I expect Clary to pack up and leave in a rage, but she just looks at me, her face full of sadness and whispers, "You're better than this Jace."

I look away and pretend I didn't hear her. She's wrong. I'm not better than this. I'm unfathomably worse.