Hi guys! I know, it's been…two weeks! Almost three. I am so, so sorry. But many things happened. Like, MANY. For one, maxwaylandgrey had no internet, so she couldn't beta. And secondly, I had surgery last Tuesday. -.- Anyway, that turned out to be GOOD, because I got a week off from school, and I have discovered many things, such as the terrible, terrible fanfic that is My Immortal by Tara something. I'm making a commentary version. It is just terrible.
Thanks to the following ladies: maxwaylandgrey, for…nothing since you said my boyfriend looks like your brother and I can't get that out of my head now—ewww, to SportyNo1 for being lovely, and…yeah, that's about it. Thanks to everyone who reviews and adds this to their alerts/favorites. Love you guys. *insert heart*
*I do not own TMI*
Jace woke up in Clary's bed once again. He rolled over and, with amusement, found that she was still sleeping. He lay in bed, considering waking her up, but then convincing himself not to. Last night had been a rough night for her. She chased after Izzy, who left the house in a flash. Why had she done that, really? What Simon said made sense, but not too much sense. Isabelle was the kind of girl who didn't let anything get to her, not even the things that would bring down most people. It was a trait that Jace admired about her, though he would never tell her that to her face. He wanted to talk to her, but it was unlike him, and he didn't know how Isabelle would react. He decided to leave it how it was. Clary had talked to her, and his sister probably felt better now.
Clary stirred beside him, and suddenly he snapped out of his reverie and waited for her to turn around. She did so within the minute, and her mouth opened in surprise when she saw that Jace was already awake. She looked adorable, with her red hair sticking to her face and a bit of drool on her cheek. Her eyes looked puffy, and with good excuse. They'd been sleeping for about twelve hours, since the previous day had been exhausting.
"Hey," he told her, a lazy smirk on his face.
"Not funny," she said, burying her head into his chest.
He wrapped his arms around her. "Oh, you're right."
"I am."
"It was borderline hilarious," he said, finish off his thought. Clary smacked his chest and he pulled her on top of him. Suddenly, his thoughts were filled with Clary. It was always like this, but this time it was different. He knew what he wanted, and he knew that it wasn't like this with every girl. When he wanted sex, he got it and then left them. But he wanted it with Clary, and then he wanted to take her out on a date and just stay with her.
Fuck, he thought to himself.
"Jace?" she asked, peering up at him from his chest. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," he said. "I'm fine."
She pushed herself higher and then brought her lips to his. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to him, closing the inch of distance there was between them before. The kiss grew deeper, and her hands were on his bare skin. His hands went under her shirt then, exploring the bare skin of her stomach and her back, until they found her bra, and just when he was about to unclasp it, she stopped the kiss abruptly.
"What is it?" Jace asked, brows furrowed in confusion.
"We're still friends, right?"
It hurt him to hear her say that. Friends? They'd gone out on dates, treated each other as if they had been together for months . . . and she wanted to be friends? Jace didn't know what to say, so he only nodded in response. He was scared that, if he said anything, she'd register hurt in his voice. He hated feeling that way. She was supposed to be another girl he could fuck and have fun with for the summer, right? He only dumped Kaelie because Clary was better—better looking, with a better personality, and better traits overall. He didn't want to feel this way about her, not really. At the beginning, it was okay. But then it got complicated, and it got to him, and he just wanted to go back to when everything was simple and he could do her without having to feel anything.
"Good," she said, doing nothing else for awhile. Then, biting her lip, she said, "You do want to be friends, right?"
"Clary," he said, exasperated. "I want to be whatever you want to be."
"Jace . . ."
"What?"
"Can we just—can we be friends? For now?" she asked him, and he kept telling himself how stupid he was for believing, for once, that Clary would want to be anymore.
He raised his eyebrow, pushing all thoughts aside, and said, "Friends with benefits, Ms. Fray?"
She giggled. "I'd like that."
I wouldn't, he wanted to say, but instead he just kissed her, hard and rough, knowing that it was the last time they'd speak about it. He had to accept that he wasn't going anywhere he wanted to go. He may have gotten his hopes up, but then they were brought down. And now he had to treat her like he treated every other girl.
"Wanna take a shower?" she asked him.
"I'd love to," he said, trying not to include too much sarcasm in his words, "but I have to go. Maryse will freak if she realizes that I, once again, have spent the night out."
"I thought she gave you permission to stay here?"
"She did, but still," he said, and that was the only explanation he gave her as he stood up and walked out the door. He stormed out of the house, rage bubbling up inside him, coursing through his veins. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't blame it on Clary, really. She'd been everything he needed, but was it worth it? Was it worth getting his hopes up to then have reality slap him?
Jace was in front of his house sooner than he'd hoped, and he burst inside, not bothering to close the door. He made his way up the stairs and into his room.
"What's with him?" Alec murmured to Isabelle in the kitchen.
"I have a pretty damn good idea," she replied with a sigh. "I have to go." She grabbed her keys from the table and hopped off a stool. "I'll be back in an hour."
"Izzy, where are you—"
"Clary's house. Can't explain," she said, and she was out the door before her brother could question her any further.
Jace locked himself in his room after hearing that exchange. He didn't want to know what Izzy was telling Clary, or what her reaction would be. He just wanted to stay there, in his room, and have no one find him or worry or care.
Just like it had been all of his life.
###
There was a knock on her bedroom door. Clary turned off her TV and stood up wearily. It couldn't be Jace, since he left in a rush. She frowned at the memory. Why did he? He always liked to stay and shower, make out, eat breakfast, go out, and then go home. What had happened? Did Maryse call him and tell him there was an emergency?
"Clary," a familiar voice called from the other side. "It's Isabelle."
She opened the door and, sure enough, Isabelle stood there, wearing red shorts and a black shirt with some high heels.
"Hey, Izzy." Clary smiled, but her friend didn't smile back. Instead, she shut the door and walked over to Clary's bed, sitting on the edge. Clary locked the door to her room and sat down next to her friend. "What's wrong?" she said, her smile dying out as she saw Izzy's expression. It was serious, like something bad happened.
"It's Jace," Isabelle said. They took him, Clary thought at first. They took Jace. After he left. And he didn't say anything, and he didn't call, but why? What happened? What did I do?
Will I ever see him again?
"No," Isabelle said, rolling her eyes. "They didn't take him."
"Did I say that out loud?"
"No, but your expression gave me the impression that you thought about it," she replied to Clary, shaking her head. "It's not that."
"Then what is it?" Clary asked dreadfully.
"What did you say to him this morning, before he left?" Isabelle said, standing up. Her hands rested on her hips, and she paced around the room. She held the authority in the room, and Clary didn't dare ask why she was asking. She thought about it for a second before answering.
"I told him that I wanted to be friends after we, uh, made out." Clary blushed at the memory of his hands against her skin.
"And?"
"And then he said something about being friends with benefits," she said, a smile tugging on her lips. "And I said yes, because it was what I meant, and then he said he had to go because Maryse needed him home, which is why I assumed he was taken away today."
"He wasn't." Isabelle was shaking her head and staring at Clary as if she were an idiot. "Clary, the boy loves you. He doesn't want to be your friend. He wants to be your boyfriend."
"No he doesn't," Clary said, shaking her head. "This is Jace we're talking about. The day I met him, he fucked some girl in a passage inside your house."
"He did?" Isabelle's eyes widened and she let out a disgusted laugh. "Well, that was Jace."
"Was?"
"Then you came around, and he changed," Isabelle said, matter-of-factly. "He wants to be with you, Clary, and not just as friends."
"I got that the first time you said it." Clary shook her head and fell down on her bed. "Why didn't he tell me? He said he wanted to be friends."
"Because he'd rather be friends with you than lose you altogether, genius." She rolled her eyes at Clary.
Clary didn't know what to think. She thought that being friends was what Jace wanted, which is why she proposed it—well, that, and the fact that she was scared to admit that she wanted to be more than friends. She wanted to be with him like she hadn't wanted to be with anyone before, not even Sebastian. How would she win Jace back? What would she tell him? Would he believe her?
All she wanted it to have something that wasn't complicated or that involved no feelings, but she realized that, in the long run, that wasn't possible. She was always going to be attached to the people she got close to. Jace wasn't supposed to be one of them. From the day she met him, she knew he was trouble, and not the kind of trouble she wanted to mess with. She wanted to stay away from him, and she tried, really, but in the end, she fell for him fast and hard.
"Take me to your house. I need to talk to him," Clary said.
"Not in that outfit," Izzy said, and with a groan, Clary realized that she was still in her pajamas.
"Hold on," she said, and then went inside her closet. Two minutes later, she emerged wearing her typical outfit: black shorts, a black t-shirt, and some combat boots.
"Let's go," Isabelle said, and together they left the house, and begun walking to the Lightwood's residence. They walked mostly in silence, each of the girls lost in their own thoughts. Clary was thinking of what she'd say to Jace. She was embarrassed, and she wanted to yell out to the world something, even though she had no idea what that would be. She wanted to get in a motorcycle and drive away, all the way back to New York, where she'd grown up. But she couldn't. She promised her mother that she'd stay here for the summer—as if she had a choice—and she had to keep that promise. She didn't want to be stuck with her any longer than necessary.
"You know, Clary," said Isabelle, breaking the silence, "I just thought of asking why."
"Why what?" she asked.
"Why'd you tell him that?"
"I thought it was what he wanted," Clary said, shrugging. "I wasn't gonna ruin this by telling him something he didn't wanna hear."
"I say that's bullshit."
"What?" Clary's eyes widened slightly at her friend's sudden outburst.
"Look, Clary, with all due respect, we both know that Sebastian fucked you up. I don't know what happened, but I know it must've been some fucked up shit for you to not want Jace, despite all the effort he's putting into this."
"No, look—"
Isabelle interrupted her by putting a finger up and shutting her up. "I'm not done yet. Whatever Sebastian did to you, you don't wanna see it happen again. Clary, I get that. We all do. But don't shut Jace out because you're scared of your heart being broken into a million pieces, because that's just stupid."
"Shut up," Clary said, growing angry at Isabelle's accusations. What did she know about what'd happened with Sebastian? About what she felt? She knew nothing. "You don't know shit, so don't try and pretend you do. I'm trying, Isabelle!" She threw her hands up in the air, tears welling up in her eyes. "I really am. But it's hard. What about you and Simon? You basically tried to fuck him to get some truth out of him. Guess what's fucked up now?"
Isabelle slapped Clary across the face, leaving her shocked. "Un-fucking-believable, Clary! You're supposed to be my friend!"
"You too," she said, letting the tears fall. She wiped them away abruptly. "You don't know what happened, Izzy, because I don't want you to know yet. Because you're gonna tell me how stupid I am for letting that happen. That's why."
"I wouldn't—"
"Yes you would!"
"No, Clary, I would not. Because I care," Isabelle said, looking hurt.
"Whatever," Clary snapped. "Just take me to Jace."
"I told him you were worth it," she said, her voice smaller than before. "I know you're worth it, but right now, I just want you to get the hell away, Clary."
"You want me to tell you, Isabelle."
"Yeah, I do!" she snapped angrily at Clary. "You're my friend, Clary. Friends tell each other stuff."
"I don't hear you sharing your past boyfriends," Clary retorted.
"You haven't asked!"
"Well, now I am."
"I won't tell you anything until you tell me something."
Clary groaned, throwing her black, large messenger bag on a rock and sitting down on it. The sun burned her face, and a few people stared as she rested her head between her knees. Finally, about a minute later, she raised her head. Her neck and back ached, but she didn't seem to mind.
"Fine," she told Isabelle, taking deep breaths. "After we go get Jace, I'll tell you everything."
"I'm sorry," Izzy blurted out, sitting next to Clary. "I overreacted. It's just—it's been a bad twenty-four hours." She let out a slightly hysterical laugh.
"I know," Clary said, standing up. "Let's go, then."
Isabelle laughed. "Okay. But it's a thirty-minute walk, and we need some music."
It's impossible to stay mad at this girl, Clary thought, as Isabelle looked for songs on her phone to play.
My heart's a stereo,
It beats for you so listen close,
Hear my thoughts in every note.
Make me your radio,
And turn me up when you feel low,
This melody was meant for you,
To sing along to my stereo.
Clary only sang that part, since it was the only part she knew. But Isabelle sang the whole rap part, and people stared at the two girls who were singing "Stereo Hearts" along the beach while trying not to laugh.
The fun, however, lasted very little. They reached Isabelle's house sooner than they thought, and Clary found herself going up the stairs and into Jace's room too fast. She didn't know what to say, how to act, or what to do.
She knocked on his door and got no response. She stood there awkwardly before deciding to knock again, and she still got no response. She knocked harder and more persistently.
"What?" Jace said from inside. "If it's Alec, for the last time, I do not have a condom I can give you, okay?"
"It's, um, not Alec," Clary said, her voice shy as she tried to suppress a laugh. She heard footsteps approaching the door, and then it swung open.
"What are you doing here?" he asked her, and she tried not to be hurt.
"I came to talk to you. Can I come in?" she asked.
He held the door open for her. Wordlessly, she stepped in and closed the door. She told herself it'd be fine. The worst thing that could happen was that Jace told her to get the fuck out. On second thought, she wanted to get the hell out of there. But Jace was staring at her expectantly, and she knew she was stuck.
"Um," she said, clearing her throat and stepping out of the door and pacing around. She looked down at her shoes, her worn-out, beat-up combat boots. She'd had them since she broke up with Sebastian. She told herself to change, and she did.
"Um?" Jace asked. "If that's what you came to say, then . . . nice?"
"I came to say that I don't wanna be friends," she blurted out, her face hot as she said it.
"Oh?" he said, looking at her, waiting for her to explain further.
"I want you to be my boyfriend, Jace," she said, and then she sat beside him on the bed. "I want to be your girlfriend."
"You want to be mine?" A smile formed on his lips.
"Yeah," she said, feeling a bit foolish. "Yeah, I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine."
"I'll most definitely be yours, Ms. Fray. But will you be mine?"
"Absolutely."
###
"Is that all they've been doing?" a deep voice asked by the phone. It'd been so long since the older boy talked to the boss, that he'd forgotten how intimidating he truly was.
"Yes, sir. Just . . . kissing and fighting and singing," the older boy said, feeling pretty idiotic. That was all he had to report, though. Truly. The boss asked for daily reports, and that was what they'd done.
"And Jace?" the boss asked.
"Sulking."
"That's all?"
"Well, he's probably fucking his girlfriend as of right now—"
"I don't need that kind of language from you," the boss said.
"Sorry, sir."
"You better be."
"That's all I have for today," the older boy said, and braced himself for some kind of punishment.
Instead, the boss said, "Keep me posted tomorrow," and the line went dead.
