Hi guys! This A/N won't be too enthusiastic, considering my heart has been torn completely apart by a man called John Green. Said man wrote "The Fault In Our Stars," which I just finished reading, and I cried like five times. And by "cried," I mean I bawled my freaking eyes out like you have no idea. I just put it back on my bookshelf and took out a happy book for school tomorrow, for I am determined to not let TFIOS ruin my school day…or should I allow it to? It is, after all, the amazing John Green. He wrote "Looking for Alaska" and "Paper Towns," which are two of my favorite books. *sigh* Oh well. Read stuff by him. You will NOT regret it.

Thanks to maxwaylandgrey for beta'ing, to Sportyno1 for being freaking amazing and the sweetheart she always is, and thanks to everyone who's reviewed/put this on their alerts/favorites. I love you guys, really.

And I may or may not be working on a new fanfic, but I'm gonna wait 'till one of the ones I'm working on (RM or The Bitch) is done. I like to have two at a time. xD

**I don't own shit. Only the plot of this story. **

REVIEW!


When Clary woke up the next summer, it wasn't pleasant. Jace was no longer in bed with her, and he'd left no note. She sighed, leaning back in bed, thinking of the day before. She'd told herself not to go through that again. Guys were all the same, and they weren't going to change for her. Sebastian was proof of that.

Then she heard him.

"Maryse," Jace said, his voice not too far away. He must've been in the room. "What is going on?"

Clary held her breath and waited for him to say something.

"Are you serious?" he asked, sounding a bit more worried. Clary didn't move an inch. "Yeah, okay. I'll ask. Don't worry, it'll be fine." There was a pause, and then she heard him say, "I'll call you later, okay? Bye." She heard footsteps approaching, and she didn't hide the fact that she'd been listening.

"What happened?" she asked him, not bothering to hide her worry, either.

Jace sighed and sat on the edge of her bed. "Can I stay here for the rest of the week? Maryse is just . . . She's worried," he said, obviously picking his words as wisely as he could.

"Sure, yeah. But," she said, sitting up, "I want to know what's going on."

"Clary—"

"I mean it, Jace," she threatened.

"Fine." He sighed and sat on the bed with her. "Someone is claiming to be my biological grandmother and demanding to take me to live with her," he explained, taking a deep, shaky breath.

"No way," Clary said, shaking her head. "She can't do that."

"We're trying to figure it out," he said. "It's just complicated."

"I know, but Jace, it's been seventeen years. She can't claim you now, right?"

"I don't know, Clary. I guess—I guess we'll see." He pulled her to him and she wrapped her arms around his stomach. "It'll be fine," he told her. "I won't let them take me away."

"I won't let them take you away." She raised her head and kissed his jaw.

"Good," he said. "Hey, are you hungry?"

"Starving," she said, rolling off the bed and untangling herself from him. "I'm pretty sure Jocelyn and Luke are still in bed and they won't mind if you stay."

They descended the stairs, Clary leading the way into their kitchen. When they stepped inside, they were greeted by a very surprised Luke, and a very pissed off Jocelyn.

"Clary," Jocelyn said slowly, "do you mind explaining why there's a boy that is notSimon in this house?"

"Simon and I," Jace replied, "had a sleepover."

"How is he not awake and you two are?" Luke raised his eyebrow.

"I was hungry, so I knocked on Clary's door and asked her to lead me to the kitchen."

"You know where it is," Luke remarked.

"It's a big house," Jace said.

"You've got a point," he replied.

"Fine," Jocelyn said to that. "Well, we're headed out. Have a nice day." She said it as crisply as she said all the time, and then she exited the kitchen.

"A sleepover with Simon?" Clary said to Jace after waiting a whole minute. "Are you insane?"

"Maybe," he replied, grinning. "But what would you have preferred."

She sighed. "Fine. Let's just eat."

They raided the kitchen until they found what they wanted to eat: they were going to make blueberry muffins, and while they waited, they'd have Nutella pancakes.

"I love this," Clary said, taking a bite of her pancake and taking out the flour.

"I love muffins." Jace took some eggs from the fridge and set them on the table, and they got started on mixing and putting the materials together.

"Something isn't right," Clary said out of the blue.

"We've done everything right," Jace argued.

"No." She shook her head.

"Well," Jace said, puzzled. "What'd we do wrong?"

Clary grinned, and reached into the flour bag. "This," she said, and threw some all over Jace's face. His expression was one of shock and amusement, as he ran for the bag and, before Clary could snatch it back, he grabbed it with triumph. She ran after him, and he held it up, high enough so she couldn't jump and reach it.

"Ah, ah, ah." He shook his head. "No flour for you, Ms. Fray."

She edged closer to him, wrapping her arms around her waist and saying, "Please," with a pout.

"Nope," he said. "Nice try, though."

She grinned devilishly and, without a warning, started to tickle him. The flour dropped to the floor, a bit of it spreading over it, and she tickled him one last time before retrieving it from the floor.

"You clean it up." Clary reached into the bag and threw some more flour on his face before putting it away and placing the muffins on the oven.

After everything was cleaned up and all they had to do was wait, they sat on the floor, Clary on Jace's lap, his arms around her waist.

"We should do this more often," he whispered in her ear, nibbling on it. She giggled.

"We should." She twisted her neck and gave him a kiss on the lips.

"Mmm, we should stand up, too."

"I'd rather not," she said.

"Yeah, me either. So, Ms. Fray, aside from the flour fight, what else did you have planned for today?"

She grinned. "Nothing else. I'd rather go with the flow," she explained, trying hard to sound as serious as possible.

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows teasingly.

"Well, you see," Clary said, in her best teacher voce, "it is all about what life wants you to be doing. Therefore, it's better to go with the flow. You don't know what to expect, so there'll be no disappointments." She shrugged.

"So your plan in life is to make no plans?" Jace couldn't believe there was someone who thought that way, mostly because he thought there wouldn't be someone amazing enough to do so.

"Yeah." She smiled as she said it. "I guess it is. Oh, but don't call it a plan. That'd defy the whole purpose."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, Ms. Fray."

When the muffins were ready and cooled down, the two of them ate in silence, except for the occasional, "Holy shit, this is good," from Jace, and the occasional moan and agreement from Clary.

"Wait!" Clary stood up suddenly, stopping mid-bite. "I have an idea." She ran to the pantry and retrieved some Nutella. She ran back to the table and, with a butter knife, spread some all over her blueberry muffin. Then she took a bite. "Oh my god," she said, even though her mouth was full and it wasn't proper. Fuck that, she thought. It was the best thing she'd ever tasted.

"I'll try it," he said, and then he mirrored her earlier steps. He took a bite and had a similar reaction to Clary's. Simon walked in then.

"Oh god," he said, covering his eyes. "Are you two, like, naked?"

Clary giggled and walked up to Simon, leading him into the table. He sat down in front of Jace. "Try this," she told him.

"Oh my god, this is heaven." Simon took more and more bites of his muffin, surprised at how much he liked it. "You guys cooked this?" He seemed incredulous.

She punched his arm playfully and said, "Yes, Simon. We did."

"Isn't my cooking fantastic?" said Jace, taking a bite from his muffin.

"Totally." Simon rolled his eyes.

Clary cleaned up the rest of the kitchen and put the leftover muffins away. They'd have plenty of time to eat them later. She took Jace's hand and he stood up.

"Si," she began, "We're going out. Um, you can . . . go over to his house and visit Izzy and Max. We'll be back before seven."

"Seven?" Simon glanced at the clock. It read noon.

"Maybe nine," she said sheepishly.

"Where are you going?" he asked her, bewildered.

"I was thinking maybe the studio?"

"You can't," Simon said. "You know you can't."

"I went with Maia," she replied. "It's fine."

"Ha," he said, "let me know how that goes."

"Will do," she said, and then she walked away, Jace's hand in hers.

"Let's go change," Jace suggested, pointing out that going out in their pajamas wasn't going to help any.

She sighed. "Sorry."

He kissed the top of her head and pulled her to him. "It's fine, Clary."

They were downstairs ten minutes later, wearing their everyday clothes—Clary was wearing a gray hoodie with jean shorts and her black boots, while Jace was wearing jeans and a black hoodie with some converse.

"Si, we're leaving!" Clary called out.

"Have fun!" he said, but to Jace it sounded as if Simon was expecting something more.

He frowned. "What's his deal?" Jace asked her.

"Uh," Clary said. "It's nothing." She gave no further explanation.

They drove in silence, Clary telling him when to go in all the right moments, and Jace almost getting lost once or twice, but somehow always managing not to. They laughed and sometimes screamed at each other in the most romantic manner. Through Clary's mind crossed the following thought, and it was a thought that had crossed both of their minds before: she didn't want to be in love. She just thought that it would hurt her, in the long run. But then, a second later, she realized that it didn't matter, because she was going to fall in love with Jace, and she just knew it. And it sucked. Jace was just a guy who enjoyed sex more than he enjoyed anything else, and she didn't want to like him or love him. He was complicated and irrational and he expected nothing of her, which was why he was so perfect for her.

"We're here," Jace said, and then added, "I think."

"This is it." Clary braced herself for a bunch of questions from Sebastian's part, and probably lots of evening fights. "I, um . . . okay, let's go." She unbuckled her seatbelt and exited the car, and as soon as she did, she saw Sebastian's figure walking over to where she was. Shit, she thought. Couldn't he have given her a few minutes?

"Clary," Sebastian said, approaching her as if they were in the best of terms. "You didn't tell me you were coming back! Oh, and you brought a friend." He sounded like a grandma from those cheap-ass movies, in her opinion.

"Shut up," she growled at him, holding Jace's hand on her own. His grip tightened.

"Aren't you gonna introduce me?" Sebastian asked her. "Or do I have to introduce myself?"

Clary glared, but looked up at Jace and sighed. "Jace, this is Sebastian. Sebastian, this is Jace." The two boys shook hands stiffly.

"I meant," Sebastian said, "a proper introduction."

"That was a proper introduction." She played dumb, hoping he'd let her get off easily this time, but his expression told her that there was no way she would leave without being tortured a bit first.

"Not proper enough." Sebastian slung his arm over Jace's shoulder. "Did you know," he said, starting to lead him away from Clary, "that Sparky here and I used to date?"

"Sebastian!" Clary said, outraged. "Let go of him, you fucking idiot! I'm here to record, not to listen to you tell the story of how I dumped you."

"Right," Sebastian said. "Sure you did, darling."

"Just ask anyone in our school," she said. "Anyway, Jace and I are going to record, and I'll see you later. We'll talk then." Or not, she thought.

As Jace walked with her inside the building, he stopped in the room and asked, "What the fuck was that?"

"His dad owns the place." She shrugged, opening the door to reveal her favorite place to record. "It's the only place I can afford with my savings, and we used to date."

"What happened?" He sounded genuinely curious.

"He cheated on me, and I dumped him."

"Oh," Jace said, wishing he could say he was sorry, but he wasn't gonna say that bullshit to her face. They both knew he wasn't sorry at all.

"Well, then," Clary said, plastering a smile on her face. "Let's play some shit."

Two hours later, they lay on the floor of the recording studio, tired and full of adrenaline. They'd danced to upbeat songs and skipped the slow ones, which was a first for Clary. Now, they had Jace's iPod on shuffle, and a song started to play just then. Clary recognized it as one of her favorites.

"I love this one," she said.

"Yeah?" Jace asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Mhmm," she said, grinning. She stood up and cranked the volume up. "Come on."

"What?" he asked.

"Dance," she said.

He shook his head. "You're crazy." But he stood up and said, "Okay, replay it." "

The moon was shinin' on the lake that night,
The Slayer t-shirt fit the scene just right,
Through smeared mascara, I looked into your eyes and saw a light.

You told me stories about your chickadees,
They didn't like BB guns or stupid archery,
You charmed the lifeguard, he let them use the pool all day for free.

Then the conversation stopped and I looked down at my feet,
I was next to you and you were right there next to me.

Then I said, "Girl! If you're wondering if I want you to, I want you to,
So make the move.
Cause I ain't got all night."

Clary threw her arms up and banged her head, and Jace danced close to her, just swaying to the rhythm. He slowed down and examined her. She looked up and caught him staring, then blushed and said, "What?"

"Oh, nothing," he said, shaking his head. He bit his bottom lip.

"What?" she asked, with more urgency this time.

"You know," he said, smiling. "You look adorable dancing."

"Don't make fun of me," she said, blushing even more.

"I'm not." He placed his arms on her waist. "Come on."

They danced to the rhythm, Jace spinning her around and Clary with her arms wrapped around his neck. They just jumped to the music, nothing major, but it made them laugh and smile, and for the first time, they were having fun.

The rest of the summer was the best we ever had,
We watched Titanic and it didn't make us sad.
I took you to Best Buy,
You took me home to meet your mom and dad,
Your mom cooked meatloaf even though I don't eat meat,
I dug you so much I took some for the team.
Your dad was silent,
His eyes were fixed to what was on TV.

Then the conversation stopped and I looked down at the ring,
Your folks were next to you and you were right there next to me.

Then I said, "Girl! If you're wondering if I want you to, I want you to,
I swear it's true. Without you, my heart is blue.
Oooh whoa
Girl! If you're wondering if I want you to, I want you to.
So make a move.
Cause I ain't got all night."

So much pain may come our way,
There may come a day when we have nothing left to say.

When the conversation stops and we're facing our defeat.
I'll be next to you and you'll be right there next to me.

Then I'll say, 'Girl! If you're wondering if I want you to, I want you to,
I swear it's true. Without you my heart is blue.
Oooh whoa
Girl! If you're wondering if I want you to, I want you to.
So make a move.
Cause I ain't got all night."

Jace and Clary were breathless when they finished dancing the song, and Clary was the first one to throw herself on the floor. Jace threw himself on top of her, but just before he hit her body, he stopped falling. He was on top of her, and Clary thought of the many things he could do. But out of all of them, out of all the possibilities, all he did was brush her red curls aside and plant a kiss on her lips.

###

"Are you sure they're there?" The man was wearing black, something the younger boy had seen often. He couldn't have been that much older than him. He was completely covered, standing outside his door.

"Yes," he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm positive."

"Since when?"

"I don't know, alright!" The younger boy finished smoking his cigarette and stepped on it, smashing it with his foot. "For a while," he said, his voice calmer.

"You need to keep an eye on them," the older one said, taking out his phone. "You said we could count on you."

They both heard a door slam inside. "Shit," the younger boy said, and hurried the other one to the side of the building. "Fuck," he cursed again. "Stay hidden."

"Shut up," the older boy snapped. The two of them watched as the couple—a girl with fiery red hair and a boy with golden locks—exited the studio, hand in hand. They stopped in the middle, as rain begun falling down.

"Jace!" the girl said, squealing as the guy took her hand and lifted her up.

"Oh, come on," Jace said, rolling his eyes. "You said you wanted something romantic." He pointed a finger accusingly at her, while all she did was pout.

"Yes, okay, yes." She shook her head as the rain fell down harder. "What's your idea, Jace? Get pneumonia and die together?"

"You crazy ginger," he said, shaking his head and pulling her close to him. "Get over here." He cupped her face with his hands and brought his lips down to her. And there it was, her first kiss in the rain.

"Oh, for God's sake," said the younger boy, shaking his head. "He expects us to watch these two?"

"Yes," the older one said.

"All they're gonna do is make out and, eventually, fuck." The younger one shook his head in disgust. "I'm out."

"No," the older one said roughly. "You promised."

"I was joking," the younger one said. "I know I have to keep it up."

"Good."

They watched the couple climb inside the car, unaware of the two boys. They watched as they drove away in that truck, probably freezing to death, but their job wasn't to care about their health state.

The young one hurried the older boy inside. "You have everything you need?"

"They'll come here more, right?" the older one asked.

"I sure as hell hope not," the other one muttered.

"Don't drive them away."

"I won't."

"Good, because I highly doubt you'll want to face the consequences."

With that, the older boy pulled up his hood and walked away, quickly disappearing from view.

###

"Simon." Isabelle scowled at him. "You need to help me cook."

"Why?" he asked, dragging himself out of the seat and to the kitchen.

"Because," she said, taking random ingredients out of the fridge, "Clary and Jace have been out all day, I'm starving, and he'll want dinner."

Simon snorted. "You're not his wife, Izzy."

"I'm his sister," she said, and then shuddered. "Never his wife."

He smiled and helped her put all of the things away. "We'll call for a pizza," he said.

She nodded, taking away her apron and hanging it on the wall. "It was gonna be a disaster anyway."

"I'll order. I know the address," he said, took the phone, and frantically searched for the phone number.

"Max!" Isabelle yelled. "Hey, where are you?"

"Here," Max said, rolling his eyes. "What is it?"

"Just wanted to make sure you hadn't gone off," she said, smiling at her little brother and ruffling his hair. "That's all. You can, uh, go back upstairs and keep reading comics. Clary shouldn't be long."

"But Izzy," Max whined, his bottom lip sticking out in a pout. "It's boring! I've read them all, and—"

"And it's okay," a voice came from the doorway. Clary. Shit, she was here early. "I'm here. Sorry about that," she said, but the little boy wasn't listening. He was hugging her tightly and she was squeezing back.

"Hey, Jace," Isabelle said. "Uh, we just ordered pizza."

"Cool," he replied. "We'll be upstairs with . . . Max, I guess." Jace sighed and shook his head. "That boy sure as hell knows how to ruin romantic, sexy moods." Isabelle smacked him upside the head.

"He," she said, "is wonderful."

"Oh, now you defend him." Jace narrowed his golden eyes at her. "Whenever he interrupts the business in your bedroom, it's all, 'Oh, that little wrench, he's gonna pay.' Sometimes," he said, the amusement in his eyes obvious to everyone, "it's even worse." Simon looked a little uncomfortable, not that Jace cared.

"Shut up." Isabelle was as near as she'd ever been to blushing. "Take him upstairs with you. Simon and I need to wait for the pizza."

"Among other things," Clary said, smiling at Simon's wide eyes. "Call us when it's here." With that, she took Jace and Max upstairs, into her room.

"They're insane," Isabelle said, shaking her head. She couldn't believe that Jace had told Simon and Clary like that! That only happened twice, and it was an accident! She couldn't let herself think about it, so she entered the living room.

"Yeah," Simon said. "But any idiot can see that they're in love."

"Weird," she said, staring at her shoe. "I never thought Jace, out of all people, would fall in love."

"I guess he would," he replied to her. "But Clary? She sworn off love two years ago."

"What happened?" Isabelle leaned in, curious. She knew Simon couldn't resist. Her shirt was see-through, and some of the buttons were undone at the top. She wore a mini-skirt and some high heels that were most definitely not appropriate for the weather, season and place, but she didn't give a shit.

"I—um, I'm not supposed to tell you." He cleared his throat and inched away slightly from her. She just rolled her eyes, stood up, and then sat back down—on his lap. She got the reaction she wanted from him, and she smiled, pleased.

"You should ask her yourself," Simon said. "I honestly can't tell you."

She stood back up, smoothing her skirt. "Fine," she said, her face burning slightly. How could she have done that?

"And," he said from behind her, "if that's the way you usually get information from boys, it's not the way I like to be asked."

"Oh?" She whirled around.

"Yeah." Simon nodded and stood up just as the bell rung. "I like girls who have a way with words and don't use their body to influence things." He walked away from her and went to get the pizza, leaving her standing in the middle of the living room, speechless, ready to cry or scream of humiliation. And not because of what he said, no, but because of what he made her realize.

"Izzy?" It was Clary, standing in front of her. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," Izzy said, shaking her head. "I just—I think I'm gonna go home. I have a headache."

"Oh," Clary said. "Well, you can just stay here."

"Oh, no, that's okay. Mom would get worried, and I—I have to go." Isabelle hurried out of the house, never paying attention to anything. Her only objective was to get away. She didn't look back when she heard the guys yelling, including Simon. She didn't look back when she heard the door slam way louder than it should, or when dogs barked at her as she ran, and ran, and ran. Her legs hurt by the time she reached the rocks that marked the half-point to her house. She'd been running for twenty minutes and she wondered why she hadn't fallen down of exhaustion. It's a good thing I work out, Isabelle thought to herself, stopping by the rocks.

Her breaths came out shallow and quick, and she sat down, trying to slow them down. She smoothed down her skirt, and a knot formed in her throat, and suddenly she was crying her eyes out in the middle of nowhere at whatever time of the night it was, and all she could think about was how idiotic she must've seemed to Simon. Why does he matter so much? she asked herself. He's just a boy, like Jace and Alec and all of my other boyfriends and boys I know. She stopped sobbing after a few minutes, and even though her chest ached and her muscles burned, she took off running once again.

###

"What crawled up her panties?" Jace asked all of a sudden, while Clary, Simon and he were eating pizza and Max was watching TV. "I mean, she just . . . took off."

"She seemed a bit off when I saw her standing there," Clary said, jerking her head to the spot where she'd found her, ready to cry or break down or something.

"Okay, look, I know what happened," Simon blurted out, and all eyes were on him. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. How could he explain to them what Izzy tried to do without making her sound like a slut, like a tramp? Simon knew, deep inside, that she wasn't like that. He knew she was a strong, independent woman who was just used to getting what she wanted in one way when it came to boys, and usually it didn't take much effort.

"Well?" Clary urged, gazing at him more intently. "What is it?"

"She, uh, wanted to know about Sebastian." Simon shifted his gaze away from his best friend and stared at his pizza as if it was the most fascinating thing on this planet. "I said no, and she, um . . . tried to seduce me, I guess."

"Oh God," Clary said.

"Tried to seduce you . . . how?" Jace asked, waiting patiently for an answer.

"She sat on my lap, and, uh, she had her shirt unbuttoned," he explained. "She was kind of willing to take it as far as she could." Simon shook his head.

"Oh dear lord," Clary said. "This couldn't have ended well."

"And it didn't," Jace said to her, their legs bumping underneath the table. "What happened, Lewis?"

"I told her that I wasn't gonna tell her, and that if she ever wanted to ask me something or convince me of something, that I didn't respond to that. I wasn't gonna give her an answer for . . . whatever the hell she was gonna do." Simon shook his head. "That's just messed up. I told her that she should ask Clary if she wanted the details so badly."

"So you didn't touch her?" Jace asked, confused. "Izzy pretty much tried to jump you and you didn't lay a finger on her?"

"Pretty much," he said to Jace. "I wouldn't."

"And she thought you were insulting her," Clary said, shaking her head. "This is fucked up." She stood up. "Guys, watch Max. I'm gonna go over to your house, Jace."

"I'll go with you."

"No," she said, shaking her head and giving him a kiss on the lips. "I need to do this on my own, okay? I'll call you once I'm on the way back."

"Okay." Jace gave her a longer kiss on the lips and watched her go.

###

Half an hour later, Clary arrived at Jace's house, out of breath and in pain. She knocked on the front door about three times before someone answered. Maryse Lightwood stood in front of her, her usual demeanor of power all gone.

"Hi," Clary said. "Is Isabelle here?"

"Yes," Maryse said, setting her drink in a nearby coffee table. "Come on in, I'll show you where her room is."

Clary followed Maryse into Jace's house, and it struck her all at once that she'd never been there. Jace had always been the one to come to her house, really. She never had time to marvel his house, the way it was different from hers but similar at the same time. It had the same "rich people live here" air, but it was more toned down, and everything was more pale and golden than sparkly and colorful. She suddenly hated her mother for not being able to decorate a house properly, like Jace's.

"Your house is amazing," she said to Maryse, who smiled and thanked her before knocking on Izzy's door.

"Isabelle," she said softly. "Clary's here to see you."

"Go away, Clary." Izzy's voice was muffled by, Clary assumed, her pillow.

"Isabelle!" Maryse's voice was sharper now, and she gave Clary an apologetic look before she knocked louder on her daughter's door. "Come on, Isabelle. Clary's here and she needs to speak with you."

Isabelle groaned from inside, but Clary felt her footsteps hit the ground and then, in a matter of seconds, she was facing Isabelle. She looked better, composed, and only Clary knew that before she reached the door she'd somehow thrown a bit of powder on and made herself look decent.

"I was sleeping," was the only thing she told her mother. She dragged Clary by the arm and closed the door.

"Fuck, Izzy, that hurt." Clary rubbed the spot where her friend had grabbed her by. "Look, I just wanted to talk to you about Simon."

"What about him?" It was obvious Isabelle was trying to play dumb, which was stupid, considering that the two had grown closer over the course of the summer.

"Izzy, don't be stupid. Look at me," Clary said, and then Isabelle looked at her and she could see the sadness in her friend's eyes.

"What'd he tell you?" Isabelle said, her voice hollow, as if expecting the worse.

Clary smiled. "He said you tried to get him to tell you about Sebastian." Isabelle groaned. "It's fine," Clary assured her. "And then he told me what you tried to do—in gentle words, I promise—and then he said that he told you something and you must've thought of it the wrong way. He never meant to send you running, Izzy."

"But he did," Isabelle said. "Whether he meant to or not, his words—shit." She wiped a tear away from her eye. "His words fucking hurt, Clary!"

"He didn't mean them like that."

"Which side are you on?" Isabelle's hands were on her hips.

"No one's!" Clary was outraged. "I'm not here to take sides. I'm here to tell you that the boy likes you, Izzy, and he wanted you to know that he'd answer your questions and think you're trustworthy without you having to come on to him like you did!"

Isabelle glanced up at Clary. "Really?" she asked, voice small.

"Yeah," said Clary, nodding. "He's—shit, Izzy, he's crazy about you!"

"Oh god," Isabelle said, burying her face in her hands. "And I just fucked it up, didn't I?"

"Nah," she said, shaking her head and smiling. "If there's one thing to know about Simon, it's that he rarely gives up on the people he cares about."

"He cares about me." Isabelle said it like it was a lot to take in.

"We all do, Izzy."

"It's just—I've never really had a boy like me before," Isabelle said. "They usually just like my body." Her voice was bitter.

"Well, he thinks you're hot," Clary said, "don't get me wrong. But he sees more to you than that."

"It's scary," Isabelle said, shaking her head. "It's just . . . God, I saw how fast Jace fell for you. And my older brother, Alec, he gave everything to his boyfriend, and I just can't seem to do the same. I can't seem to give my heart out because I'm scared of getting it back all broken and gone and not the way it was before. Is that stupid?"

"No," Clary said. "No, it's not."

Because Clary was scared of the same thing, and she knew hearts were breakable, and giving it away was the silliest thing anyone could ever do. And, with that in mind, she gave hers away anyway.