Warning: Filler! But here's the update, later than I would have hoped, but I've been a very, very busy person lately :D haha enjoy!
The tall building loomed before Clary, who stood in awe of its towering, medieval glory. It was a cathedral, its steeples seeming to spiral up at odd angles from the sharp slope of the darkly shingled roof. It seemed to be made of deep brown bricks, stacked unevenly, shifted with time, making the church tilt slightly to the left. Even the probably once majestic and beautiful stained glass looked ominous as vines crept their way up and around them, creating a green frame of tentacles.
Clary jumped, startled as Isabelle opened the creaky, wrought iron gate, revealing a weatherworn and cracked sidewalk that twisted and turned its way through the front lawn's thick green shrubbery. The fiery headed girl stepped through, letting the gate clatter and bang shut behind her. She tried to fight back against the fear gripping her stomach, making it do flips and preventing her from moving forward at a quick pace, only allowing her small, baby-like shuffles. She watched her black-haired friend stride proudly forward, turning along the tangled path skillfully, as if oblivious to the unseen force pushing away any and all living things.
Tucking a red curl behind her ear, she forced her left foot off the ground, using more effort than usually necessary to plant it firmly in front of her right one. She tried to ignore her brain's frightening images of the bushes reaching out and clasping her ankles with their leafy branches, tripping her and sucking her into the depths of the unknown.
You are being such a coward, she thought to herself angrily, focusing her attention not on the house of horrors, but on the high-fashion, high-on-personality girl strutting in front of her, sashaying forward as if she were on a catwalk in Paris, France instead of on the uneven pathway that lead the way to an even more uneven building. Clary jogged, unbalanced, as she tried to catch up, her carrot ringlets bouncing around her in perfect time with the loud slap of her flip flops against the paved ground. "So," she asked, catching up to her friend, her voice slightly shaky with the waves of terror that continued to roll over her body, "what is this place?" Izzy kept walking, either ignoring or pondering the question for a moment. Her dark eyes were focused in the distance, on the ornate, wooden door that waited them at the end of the path, where it was set deeply into the aged bricks.
"The Institute," came her simple reply about twenty seconds later. Clary's green eyes widened in confusion. The dark, scary church did not look like an institution. In Clary's eyes, it seemed more like an adequate set for the next big horror movie, which probably would involve a murderous nun or psycho priest. She heard Isabelle giggle quietly as she blew a strand of hair from in front of her eyes. "Since, 'technically,'" she used her fingers to make air quotes, "it's supposed to be a place of learning, my parents decided that 'The Institute' would be the perfect name to keep us focused on our studies and ward off any wild children." She rolled her eyes, coming to an abrupt halt. Clary hadn't even realized they'd reached the doors until she nearly ran face first into the stained wood. They towered nearly four feet of Clary's five-foot-two-inch height. Izzy wrapped her long, thin fingers around the bronze handle, twisting it. The handle rattled under Isabelle's grip but didn't budge. She cursed, fumbling around in her Gucci purse.
"Aha!" Izzy slipped her hand from her bag, a bronze, ornate key dangling from her crimson fingertips. She turned around and shoved the key into the lock, grunting quietly as she turned the rusted lock. "But you know what it really is?" A smile played one her lips as she returned the key to her purse.
"What?" Clary asked, preparing herself for the horror story that was sure to follow the announcement.
Izzy kicked open the door with the heel of her stiletto. "An awesome place to throw sick college parties." She disappeared into the blackened doorway, leaving Clary wondering whether she should follow or remain. An arm popped out of the door before Clary could react, snatching her into the dark unknown. "Where is that light switch?" Clary heard Izzy ask the darkness as she stumbled around aimlessly, the arm having released here. She heard a bump and a loud curse. Then the room was illuminated with an orange glow. "Stupid light bulbs, my parents couldn't even splurge on the white ones; we had to get the icky yellow ones." Izzy impatiently grabbed one of Clary's arms and tugged her through a narrow hallway just off the entry. The walls were close together, nearly suffocating. If Clary began flap her arms like a chicken, her elbows would brush both walls, and probably remove some of the floral wallpaper as she did. Soon enough, the walls parted before Clary's eyes, and she gratefully stepped through the opening.
Clary looked around, recognizing the place as just what it appeared to be from the outside, an old church. Pews were lined up row after row, all facing an elaborate and aged alter. Candles were lit all around the sanctuary, casting fire-orange shadows up the walls, dancing their way onto the ceiling. Izzy caught Clary's stare. "I know, creepy, right?" Clary cocked her head to the side, surveying the room, seeing the peaceful front with the underlying agony of the unused, cobweb filled chapel.
"I was thinking more…painfully artistic?" Izzy snorted unattractively, towing Clary toward the only object in the room not from the nineteenth century. Izzy pushed the down button on the elevator, waiting as the bars rattled open. The two girls stepped inside and waited as the elevator hummed down the shaft.
Izzy and Clary stumbled out of the elevator as soon as it stopped. "So…the grand tour?" Izzy asked, not looking forward. Clary sighed, shaking her head.
"Nah, I memorize places more by wandering aimlessly around until I'm able to remember my way." Izzy raised an eyebrow, and Clary shrugged, facing forward down the hallway. It had always been that way. When Clary moved from apartment complex to house to apartment complex to finally the bookstore her family lived in for her entire high school career, she'd denied a tour every time, usually earning the same look Isabelle had just given here. Izzy nodded in return, a slow smile breaking across her face.
"Hey, one for old time's sake?" she asked, winking and jerking her head toward her brother, who had just emerged from a room off the hallway. His face was flush and his usually perfect black hair askew. Clary couldn't see his eyes, but she agreed quickly, following Izzy as they slinked silently down the hallway, disappearing into one of the many doors. Clary helped Izzy as they set the trap, nearly giving themselves away with their loud hysterics. "Shhh," Isabelle complained, pressing a finger to her lips. They finished their prank, everything in place and ready for Alec.
Isabelle snickered, flicking off the kitchen light switch and nodding at Clary, motioning for her to get down. "Alec! Come into the kitchen! Quick!" Clary covered a laugh with her hand. Her red hair was a wild frizz around her face as she ducked under the kitchen table, completely hidden from view. She glanced over at Isabelle, who was jammed in the space between the fridge and the wall, and the girl flashed her a thumbs up. They heard Alec's heavy footsteps as he approached the kitchen.
"Izzy?" he asked, concerned. He pushed on the light and yelped. The room was flooded with light as Clary and Izzy stumbled from their hiding places, pointing at Alec who was hopping around with a mousetrap dangling from his finger tip. "Ow, Izzy, this hurts!" Isabelle made cooing noises as Clary opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. She reached over to Izzy with a clenched fish, who knocked hers against it.
"Boo-ya!" they said in unison, laughing at their old catchphrase. Alec glared at them, plucking the mousetrap from his finger and dropping it into the trashcan. Izzy snatched Clary's water and took a long gulp. Passing the water back to Clary's pale hand, she sauntered over to Alec, two inches taller than him in her stilettos. Her black hair was flowing around her face, perfectly messy, and her eyes were lined in black, creating the most intimidating look Clary had ever seen.
"2012 Prank War Scores: Izzy and Clary-one, Alec-," she made a circle with her fingers, "zero." She turned on her heel and grabbed Clary by the arm, pulling her into the corridor. The two girls broke into giggles as they walked down the hall, lit decoratively with silvery sconces. Izzy jerked down a hallway and used her stiletto to kick open a door halfway down. "This," she said, doing a sweeping gesture with her arms, "is you're room."
Clary nodded as Isabelle excused herself. Shutting the door behind her, Clary walked the perimeter of the room, noting the plane walls and dark wood of the furniture. A big queen bed took up the center of the room, no bed sheets or blankets put on yet. The dressers were bare, as was the vanity, but to Clary's delight, nothing seemed to be from the eighteenth century. She sat down on her bed and felt her pocket vibrate. She slipped out her cell phone. Checking the caller I.D., she picked up. "Hey, Simon…" she said, a small gasp escaping her lips.
"…Maia..." Simon's voice moaned from the earpiece. She heard some suggestive sounds, and her face turned red.
"Hey, Si!" she yelled into the microphone, hearing the other end go silent. "Yeah, maybe you should turn your phone off before cheating, so you don't accidentally butt dial your girlfriend."
"Clary…I was just…uh…"
"Performing CPR on a choking girl named Maia?" she offered. "Just in case my angry tone isn't enough of a clue, we are done Simon Lewis!" Snapping the phone shut and chucking it onto the ground, she grabbed the uncovered pillow from her bed and released a scream into its softness. Then, she dropped her face into her hands. She knew he'd been cheating on her! She'd known it ever since he'd become so clingy, so protective. Yet, she couldn't find it in herself to be sad. She'd wanted a way out of the relationship, but she really couldn't bring herself to break up with him. Her phone buzzed against the wooden flooring, but she ignored it, knowing it was Simon.
Lying back on her mattress, she counted the moments until her mother would arrive and make everything better.
She didn't even notice she'd fallen asleep until she'd woken up the next morning, boxes surrounding her room, bed fully made beneath her. How did I not wake up through this? She thought, running her hands over the soft purple of the quilt. She checked her phone, seeing it was nine o'clock in the morning. She stretched her stiff body, wondering if her parents had left. She got her answer, seeing the note tacked up against the door. It was from her parents, telling her that they loved her and would visit her soon. She sighed, checking her reflection in the mirror. Besides her hair behind slightly frizzy, she looked presentable.
She walked out into the hallway, rubbing sleep from her eyes, ready to go eat some breakfast. She was brought up short at the sight of a figure standing at the end of the hallway, swaying to some unheard music. "Hello?" She called down the hallway. The figure separated into two as she found a light switch, illuminating the dim hallway.
Realizing she'd walked in on two people kissing, Clary stood awkwardly in the hallway, wondering what she should do. The pair looked up, but Clary couldn't see past an exceptionally large head of the girl. Her hair was bleach-blond and her eyes were beady, but bright, ocean blue.
"A ginger?" The girl's voice screeched, piercing the uneasy silence that had settled over the hallway. Clary saw the boy shift awkwardly behind the girl as Clary faltered. She shook her head. She wasn't going to take this crap, not after what happened with Simon yesterday. She was angry, and the girl had picked the wrong red-head to mess with.
Narrowing her eyes and placing a wicked grin on her face, Clary clapped her hands lightly. "Congratulations, you know your colors! Tomorrow, we'll work on numbers." The girl's lips twitched as she groped for a comeback. Clary smiled sweetly at the girl.
"Jace," she said, straightening the boy's Air Jordan t-shirt. Clary still couldn't see his face behind her giant poof of blond hair. "You better stay away from her. You know what they say about gingers…" She leaned in close to the boy as her sentence trailed off, lifting her hand to her mouth in a mock-whisper. "They have no souls."
Clary placed a hand on her hip, staring the girl down. "Is that so?" The blond nodded triumphantly. "So then I won't feel bad when I kill you later?" The girl's jaw dropped, and Clary heard the boy's low chuckle from behind her.
"Dang, Kaelie, you just got served." Kaelie looked Jace up and down, taking her skinny arms off her hips and weakly attempting to shove him away. Jace didn't so much as stumble, his eyes full of laughter, watching the girl's week struggles.
"You know what, Jace, we are done! Don't ever call me again!" Clary sputtered a laugh, realizing that the term "dumb blond" really did apply to some people.
"Don't let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya." Clary waved at the girl as she left, laughing, remembering that they were beneath a church somehow made it funnier to her. "That's what I would call speed breakup." Jace snorted, and Clary finally saw him, now that Kaelie wasn't obstructing her view. He had strong, chiseled features, his nose straight and aristocratic, and he was slightly tan from the summer sun. His hair was a mop of gold atop his head, and his eyes were made to match, molten pools of golden lava set into the statue-like face.
"I've been trying to breakup with her for four months, and you do it in two minutes." His voice was musical, magical as it caressed her eardrums, making Clary want to hang onto every word and never let go. She shook her head a little to clear it. Regaining her composure, she quirked an eyebrow in his direction.
"From the looks of it down there, you weren't trying too hard." Jace smiled sheepishly, running a big hand through his golden locks. Clary shrugged, turning around, ready to wander through the labyrinth of hallways and passages that she would now call home. She heard the soft click of a door behind her, and she guessed that Jace had probably went to chase after Kaelie.
She began to walk slowly, simply placing one foot in front of the other in small, rhythmic steps, observing her surroundings carefully, trying to commit each sight to memory. She had traveled down two separate hallways when she pulled up short. She heard Isabelle's giggling from inside of a room. Clary gazed down at the expanse of the hall, seeing that there were four, gray doors. She wanted to find Izzy and ask who Jace was.
Listening carefully, she pushed through the door on the end. "Hey, Iz," she whispered to a girl, lying on the bed, mouth wide open, eyes covered with an eye mask.
"Huh, what?" she asked, dragging an arm over her wet mouth. Somehow, even after sleeping a whole night, the girl still looked runway ready.
"Who's Jace?" she asked, settling herself at the foot of Izzy's bed. Izzy shrugged, removing her eye mask and putting it on the top of her head. Her room was blue. The walls were ocean blue, the floor the color of sand. Her furniture seemed to be made of driftwood and seashells clinked from where they hung down from the ceiling. She pulled the blue covers up around her midsection, sitting up and leaning toward her red-haired best friend.
"That," she said, pausing for dramatic effect, "is our other roommate."
So...Cheating Simon, Dumb Kaelie, Fierce Clary? What did you think. Hmm..we reach ten reviews and Jace and Clary will have some lip action! ;) P.S. we will meet Luke and Jocelyn in the next chapter...just didn't feel like writing about them...I tried, but it kind of just was boring and threw everything off...sooooo review?