Okay, YAY! Another chapter! Again! I am on a roll, aren't I?

Okay so this one's a tad shorter, only because I didn't think it needed to be any longer. Usually I don't worry about chapter lengths. I just write until the chapter ends, and then however long it is, is however long it is. Usually they end up like 5 pages on word (font size 11 Calibri [body]). This one's only about four.

DISCLAIMER: DON'T OWN M.I (can't be stuffed thinking of something witty. It's late, and I have school in the morning. I'm doing this instead of maths.)

Jocelyn, her mother, and Luke were asleep when Clary got back. She didn't blame them; it was almost fifteen minutes until three in the morning. Her parents had a steady routine of dinner at seven, TV until nine thirty and bed at ten thirty. It was the same every night. She knew the routine like the back of her hand.

Stepping out from her parent's doorway into the foyer, she gently slipped off her pumps, placing her bare feet onto the soft, woollen carpet.

Clary liked the way the long fibres felt squished between her toes. She could honestly say that it was one of the only things she liked about the building she lived in.

There was nothing wrong with the house itself, really. It was a decent looking, two story, redbrick abode, complete with neat green hedge lining the front and white picket fence. There was nothing wrong with it at all. She'd lived in it her entire life and had never had anything to complain about; Luke always kept it maintained to perfection, never letting there be a floorboard loose or patch of paint peeling.

It was just that it... lacked character. It didn't feel like home, not lately. When she was a kid it was perfect. But then she'd gotten older and the little things had started to make her feel eerie; like the doors that never squeaked, not once, or the constantly dust free photo frames adorned with family photos. All three of them smiling like they had no care in the world.

The photo itself was rather deceitful. In the picture they look happy and careless, smiling at the camera like they had all just been sharing a joke and the photographer had just happened to walk in just in time to capture the after affects. In reality, it had been quite different. She remembered the day it had been taken. She was ten at the time, and Luke and Jocelyn had just started seeing each other. She could still see the stressed out look on her mother's face as she bustled between the two of them, smoothing out wrinkles and playing with strands of Clary's bright red hair, so it sit just right. In fact, the rosiness apparent in her mother's cheeks in the portrait was not from laughing hard at a pun, but from fretting over a lock of particularly frizzy red curls. It made Clary giggle to think about it; it was like a secret joke. Anybody looking at the photo would never have guessed the tension in the air as the flash from the camera lit up the room. They looked perfectly happy, perfectly normal. That was exactly what Jocelyn had wanted, but Clary knew the truth.

Now, she slipped into her bedroom, glancing at the digital clock on the table next to her bed. 2:45.

She was instantly hit with the feeling that someone had been in there, but pushed it away. She was used to it, anyways. Jocelyn was constantly in there putting things back in drawers and fixing bed sheets. Clary had long gotten over the fact that she didn't have any privacy. It didn't bother her, not any more.

She sat down on her bed, smoothing out the light blue duvet cover beneath her. Facing the mirror, she began the slow, tedious job of pulling out the tons of sparkling bobby pins that Isabelle had shoved into her hair that after noon to keep it in its elegant up-do.

While she was pulling out the pins, one by one, her mind unintentionally drifted to Jace. She still had his napkin, which, she'd discovered, held a series of digits, scrawled with blue ink in surprisingly neat handwriting.

She thought about his offer. About how insane it was. About how badly she wanted to take it. Shaking her head, she pulled out the last bobby pin and shook out her curls, feeling the cool locks billow down her back, tickling her skin. She glanced at the clock again. 2:55. it had taken longer than she had realised.

That's it. She told herself, you have to stop this. You know it's stupid. You can't keep thinking like this. Stop it.

But her mind wasn't listening to her. It kept flashing back to Jace sitting at the chipped table, the way he made her laugh like never before, his words repeating themselves over and over in her head; Drive and never look back. Drive and never look back. Never look back.

Clary stared mindlessly at the clock as it clicked closer and closer to three in the morning. She watched as the glowing green digits flipped; 2:57, 2:58, 2:59.

Her mother had once said to her; "Nothing good happens after 2am." But her mother had said a lot of things. Her mother had said that she shouldn't risk applying for that scholarship at the University of Florida. Her mother had said that she would just be disappointed when she didn't get it. Her mother had also said that it would be best if she didn't move into a dorm in college. Her mother said it would be cheaper if she just stayed where she was. Yes, her mother had said a lot of things. What if her mother had been wrong?

Clary blinked, and the clock made a dull beep noise at the sound of another hour passing. Clary looked at her phone, which had somehow made it into her hands without her even meaning to pick it up.

She flipped open.

Half an hour later, Clary found herself slipping out the front door into the now slightly chilled summer air. She was still wearing the pick chiffon dress, but now her feet bore a pair of gray vans, and she was wrapped in a soft, dappled gray cardigan.

As she made her way down the gray cement garden path, she wrapped the jumper tighter around her body and slipped out the eerily quiet, white picket gate. She stood on the curb and dropped the duffel bag at her feet, praying to God that Jace would actually turn up.

She hadn't known what to pack at first. She had stood there for about ten minutes thinking; how do I fit my entire life into one bag?

In the end she'd settled for a few changes of clothes, her sketchpad and pencils, her iPod, a toiletries bag, a couple of dearly loved books -Jane Eyre, To Kill A Mockingbird and The Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy- and a framed photo of her, Jocelyn, Luke, Isabelle and Simon at graduation. She would miss them, she knew that. She'd left them all roughly scrawled letters, giving some sort of explanation. She knew that they probably deserved more than that, but she didn't have time.

Clary figured they'd be angry, especially Jocelyn. Maybe that was why she had decided to leave unannounced, in the dead of night. Because she knew that if she were to tell them face to face, they would try and convince her to stay. And she would crumble, giving into their pleads.

Clary breathed in the cool night air, shakily. A couple of streams of white light spilled down the street, and she had to squint past the glare to see Jace's blue ford pulling up next to where she stood on the footpath. She looked in through the window to see the older boy's usually playful golden eyes staring up at her. She picked up her bag and slid into the car, onto a beige leather bar seat.

They looked at each other in the eye, green melting into gold.

"You know this is insane right?" She didn't break eye contact.

"Yup." He blinked. "You sure this is what you want?"

"An hour ago you were practically begging me to run away with you, which I still don't understand by the way. And now you're asking me if I'm sure?"

He smiled lightly at that, the sides of his mouth tilting up softly.

"I don't want to do this unless you're absolutely positive it's what you want to do. I don't want you to feel pressured or anything."

It was her turn to smile, "I'm sure." A grin broke across his face, lighting up his features, "Just promise me one thing first?"

"Anything."

"Promise me you're not a crazy stalker slash serial killer, and that you're not going to kidnap me or rape me or something equally as awful."

Jace laughed, loud at this, and Clary found herself grinning.

"Oh, Miss. Ginger, you do not have to worry about that at all." Clary rolled her eyes at the nickname, but otherwise said nothing.

They were silent for a second for a second, the excitement of what they were doing starting to settle into the air around them. Jace looked at her and tilted his head to the side.

"Name a place."

"What?"

"Name a place," he repeated, "any place. Or a direction. The first thing that comes to your head. Go!" He clapped his hands together, making Clary jump.

"West." She said suddenly. She's been about to say east, but then she realised that if they went East, they would just drive into the ocean. That wouldn't be very productive.

And with that, Jace pressed his foot down on the accelerator. She felt a thrill go through her body with the momentum of the car going forward. A smile spread across her face as she looked at Jace and realised that he was smiling just as big as she was.

She kept grinning until they reached the sign at the town border that said; "You are now leaving Middleton, Home Of The Middleton Grizzly's!"

It was then, as they passed the idiotic sign, when it really sunk in. It was then that she started laughing. She didn't even know why.

She was just filled with a sudden, uncontrollable glee. It was like there was some sort of electricity fizzing addictively underneath her skin. It was the feeling of change, new beginnings, and fresh starts.

Clary, through the hiccupping sounds of her giggles, heard Jace start laughing too, with just as much tenacity, possibly more. He had a nice laugh, she thought to herself. It was rough but bubbly at the same time. It was times like these that she wished she could capture sound on canvas the way she could with images. Jace's laugh, Clary thought, sounded like children's feet sloshing through rain puddles.

After a while, their gasping laughter quieted and they sighed, leaning back in the chair, their cheeks red and eyes wet from tears. Clary smiled as Jace looked at her sideways, keeping his eyes on the road in front of them.

"You know what?" He said, as she stifled a yawn, "This could quite possibly become an adventure of very epic proportions, don't you think? She mumbled a sort of agreement, feeling the affects of the caffeine she'd drunk only about two hours before already wearing off.

She stared out the window at the sky, which was slowly turning from deep, velvet navy to dark topaz as the sun rose higher behind the horizon.

Clary closed her eyes and listened to the hum of the tyres travelling over tarmac, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, she fell into a dreamless sleep.

Hey, so what do you think?

Can I just say that that's not how I see Jocelyn in the books at all? I just made her like this for the story. I actually think she's the opposite of this.

Anyway, I'll update soon as possible. Please review!

Love,
Beth