No, I'm a Man
No. It's such a simple word. It consists of two letters, one a vowel, the other a consonant that come together to form a single syllable. It's reliable at times when one needs to declare they've had enough. It's also deadly. It can shatter a heart in seconds. I've used the word several times today and the events that followed weren't exactly expected.
"No." I tell Izzy after she informs me that I am to take Max to the bookstore after school today.
"Have fun." Izzy smiles, patting my shoulder with mock sympathy.
The only bookstore Max really likes is the one Clary apparently works at. We can't go there. I'll say something stupid and hurt her now, or I'll say something great and destroy her later. There is no foreseeable upside to this situation.
"Why can't you take him?" I whisper, knowing Max could come over here at any time. I don't want to hurt his feelings-I just would rather avoid such dangerous situations.
"I'm going out." She says.
"With whom?"
"A guy,"
"Which guy?"
Who do I need to beat up now?
"You don't know him." Izzy says, not looking me in the eyes.
This ought to be good.
"Why don't I know him?" I ask.
"He graduated already."
"When?"
"Before you started high school."
"Is he even in college anymore?"
"He's getting his Master's degree in medicine."
"So where do you come in? Are you helping him study?"
Izzy glares at me, grabs her purse and tries to storm out, but I steal her bag.
"Be careful." I advise, giving it back.
A small smile lights her face. "Careful Jace, it sounded like you care about your foster sister." She says.
My heart drops. How can she tell? Am I that obvious? After all these years, people can tell when I care? Why do I insist on caring for these people? I'm going to hurt someone...again.
"Thanks again for taking me here Jace." Max chirps as we walk into the bookstore I've been trying so hard to avoid.
"No problem little man." I reply, only half-way forcing a smile in the kid's direction. I like it when he's happy, so it's okay.
Max leads the way through the labyrinth of shelves to the manga and I pull a chair up as he browses. Looking around, I notice they have the classic novels near the Manga, so I stand to do some browsing myself. Yes, yes, the great Jace Herondale reads. How else does one travel through time? Anyway, a few titles catch my eye. There's a display with the book, Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. A bitter feeling twists around my gut. The only monster in this time is me because of my irrational heart. I pick through the shelves. There are a couple of Hemingway novels which I don't have much of a taste for after reading Farewell To Arms. Perhaps I'll try another one of his books, but not with that awful ending in my head. It reminds me of what I think would happen if I were to ever love someone so much and I tossed and turned all that night, unable to stop the words of my father from playing in my head like a record. To love is to destroy.
I find the a collection of Sherlock Holmes stories. Seeing the voluminous book nearly makes me smile. Holmes and I were great friends in the seventh and eighth grade, before high school started, back when I hid in the shadows in peace. Before puberty really hit and everyone's hormones were raging at such extreme levels that they didn't notice we'd all gone to school together since fourth grade (in my case). No one remembered they used to shun me. People are so easily engulfed in their own supposed greatness that they forget their old rules and create new, crueler ones. Now they're putty in my hands and I care just enough to notice their immense levels of idiocy. Izzy once pointed out how it was similar to the movie, "Can't Buy Me Love," and after she made me watch it, I couldn't help but laugh.
Red hair catches my eye and I stand, rigid, feigning interest in the Ayn Rand books in front of me. I've heard from teachers that she's a magnificent writer, but I've never given her a try. I pick a random book with a red and white spine and pretend to study the summary as I sneak a glance at Clary who smirks.
"Hello to you too." She says.
"Hello there." I say, trying to sound suave.
There's an awkward silence couple with tension that would take a chainsaw to break it. So naturally, I decide to speak. What could possibly go wrong?
"Clary?" I ask, not sure what to say, knowing I owe her an apology.
"Yeah?" She asks.
"I'm sorry for what I said. I was thinking of other things and I took it out on you. It was wrong." I tell her.
She nods. "Apology accepted. So, we're back to being friends now; right?"
"No." The word slips out but I know it's right.
She wears an odd expression and I turn away. It looks too much like hope and I'm too much of a coward to witness it shatter.
"We can't be anything." I tell her quietly, trying to ignore the part of me that's screaming with desire to kiss her right here, right now.
"Why?" she asks, "Do you really think I'm using you?"
"No-I'm the one who's bad for you." The words rush out before I can stop them. I look at Clary who looks as shocked as I feel right now. She's not supposed to know anything. That's what was supposed to keep her safe! Now I've tarnished it, like I've ruined everything else I've ever cared about.
"Why are you bad for me?" She asks.
I'm bad for everyone.
"I'm a jerk." I say.
"You could stop being one." She points out.
That's too dangerous. Someone could get hurt. Someone could die. Even I'm not that selfish to take such a risk.
"It's not that easy." I reply.
"Sure it is." She insists.
"You wouldn't understand."
"Why not?"
"You're Clary Fray. You can do anything. The rest of us aren't so lucky."
Clary blinks, rendered speechless I suppose.
"Jace?" Max asks from behind me.
"Yeah?" I ask, turning to face Max and escape Clary.
"I'm ready. Oh, hi Clary." Max smiles at both of us.
"Hi Max." Clary smiles at the kid. "I have to get back to work, but you enjoy your book; okay?"
Max smiles. "Will do."
"You too Jace." She points at the Ayn Rand book I'm holding and there's something in her expression that tells me I should read it. That's why when she walks away I put it back. I can't take any chances.
As we walk back to the Lightwoods' house, Max asks, "Why isn't Clary your girlfriend?"
This solidifies my opinion that I'm a bad influence on this kid. Why else would he assume a girl he's only met twice should be my girlfriend? He's too tuned into my love life-or should I say lack of one-it can't be good for him.
"Why do you ask?" I ask.
"You can't answer a question with a question."
"Sure you can."
"Don't you like her?"
"No."
"Why are you lying about it?"
"Why do you think I'm lying?"
"You're bad at it; your voice changes. Izzy told me."
Thank you Isabelle.
"You know not to lie; right?" I ask, hoping to distract him with a teaching moment.
"Isn't that hypocritical for you to ask right now?"
His comment catches me off-guard and my lip quirks up before I can correct my face. "One could say that." I admit.
"Why can't you two be together? You both clearly like each other, so, what's the problem?" Max asks.
"Why do you think I like her?"
He looks down. "You look at her the way Dad used to look at Mom." He says softly.
He even figured out his parent's downhill relationship. He's too smart for his own good.
"It's really complicated and boring teenage stuff you won't like hearing about." I try.
He looks up at me and arches an eyebrow as if to ask why I think he's stupid. It was a weak sentiment.
"I don't want to talk about it because I don't fully understand it myself." I try again.
"And you don't want to talk about." He points out.
"Right you are,"
"Do you wanna talk about something else?"
"Why don't you tell me how school was today?"
"Sure," he grins, "I'll try to avoid using clichés."
I chuckle. This kid is something else.
The topic wanders from school and Max asks, "Can we get some ice cream?"
I check my watch. It's only 4:30PM. "It's only an hour or so before Izzy whips up a concoction she's going to claim is dinner. How about we get some tomorrow after school?" I suggest.
"Okay. Thanks Jace." He grins. There's something about the way he's smiling that warns me he's brainstorming a horrendous plan of sorts. Looks like he got recruited into the get-Clary-and-Jace-together mission. This is just another thing I get to thank Isabelle for.
When we get to the house, I can smell food cooking. This is a big surprise because it actually smells like food is being created which can only mean two things. Either Mrs. Lightwood's home or we're witnessing a miracle.
"Hey Iz, what's going on in there? I don't smell anything burning." I call as Max and I walk to the kitchen.
Max giggles.
When we get to the kitchen, Alec's there, talking to Izzy as she deals with a pan. He seems to be giving her pointers. Where has he been this whole time and why did he bother coming back? The first time he left it was for a day, then two, then five, then a week, now three freaking weeks? What does he think he's doing to Max and Izzy?
I look at Max who looks at me warily. Even he's getting tired of this.
"Who's the guy Iz?" I ask.
Alec looks up and smiles at Max. He puts his arms out for Max to hug him like he did the other times. He just doesn't know how many late nights we've had trying to find him. He doesn't know how worried we were. He doesn't know how many tears were shed on Izzy and Max's part for him. At this point, I don't think he cares either.
"What? No hug for big bro?" Alec asks, looking wounded.
Max grabs my arm. "I'm with my big brother. I don't know who you're supposed to be." He says.
Alec glares at me. I glare back. "You think you can replace me?" Alec spits. "I already talked to Dad. He told me about your detention escapade that nearly lead to Max's death. You just brainwashed him into thinking you're some big hero brother. Dad hates you though-even more than he hates me now. You're public enemy Number One."
"At least he stayed here." Izzy points out.
"Whose side are you on?" Alec demands. "I was just helping you out-we were having fun."
"Wow, fun trumps three weeks of worry every time. You left. You have no right to come back and be a jerk. If you're gonna keep this up then you can just leave again." Izzy says.
"Wow. You're a real coward aren't you? Jonathan." Alec sneers. "You let my siblings do all the talking for you. You're just a scared little boy who wants to go home and cry to his mommy. Oh wait, the closest thing to a mommy he has is mine and she doesn't even like him that much."
"No, I'm a man. I take care of them. All you do us leave them hanging. What kind of example are you setting? Is this how you want Max to behave in the future? Is this what you think Izzy should expect from guys? Do they need to get used to the idea of people sneaking out in them? The only coward here is you. I'm not going anywhere." I growl.
