Serendipity - Chapter 7

Oh close up camera two

Cause the hero dies in this scene

Your inspiration is the loss of absolutely everything

And flashback on the girl

As we montage every memory

And we bleed out in the bathroom sink

And we fade out as the soundtrack sings:

You're like a black cat with a black back pack full of fireworks

And you're gonna burn the city down right now

Whoa whoa, yeah

You're like a black cat with a black back pack full of fireworks

And you're gonna burn the city down right now

Whoa whoa

- Black Cat by Mayday Parade

I'm, forcefully, put on bed rest for the next week by my mother. Considering that I now have a cold and that my Snapchat feed is as dry as my throat, there are zero activities for me to partake in, therefore, I am bored out of my mind. Jace has been coming over quite frequently to talk to Jonathan. Evidently, my attempts to ward him off were futile and they've become "best friends", although they won't admit that. Their cover is "We're bros, Clary. You gotta accept that."

Cue eye roll.

Isabelle went to Seattle with her parents, Alec and Magnus. Mr. and Mrs. Lightwood aren't the best parents; they do let their children wander around aimlessly at 3 in the morning and they don't even care. To say the least, they're not incredibly involved in the lives of their children. I wish some people were like that ... not naming any names here (*cough* my parents *cough*).

I know, right.

And, while we're on the topic, there's the increasingly large issue of my parents. My dad, who was home from that business trip for about 3 days, stayed for the rest of the month. My mom won't let me get up, even to grab my laptop which is never under my bed anymore, because she thinks that I'm going to "severely injure myself" or "break my leg". And, on top of all of that, my mom won't let me get my caramel frappe from Starbucks.

I hate my life.

The door to my room swings forwards, a hand pushing the gilded handle. My eyes immediately dart to the door, looking up from my pointless Etsy browsing.

Golden hair is swung back from golden irises as slim, though strong, hands are shoved into the pockets of tight-ish black jeans. Perfect teeth chew absent-mindedly on a full bottom lip, giving me a glance of his slightly chipped incisor.

"Is this a bad time?" Jace asks, looking around my room, his eyes scanning, awestruck, at the ceiling. Then, his gaze finally focus on me and my current demeanor. A smug look crosses his face, while his eyes burn with an unrecognizable emotion, somewhat close to ardency. Again.

"Not at all," I say, my left hand slightly pushing down the cover of my laptop, not fully, so I don't have to unlock it again. I suspect that this will be a brief conversation. "What's up?"

My hands, either side of me, push my feeble frame up so that my back is, solidly, resting on the headboard. Mentally assessing my attire, I realize why Jace looked so complacent a few seconds ago. My hair is tied up in a bun, a purple bandana tied around the front. I threw on my Mayday Parade sweatshirt and a pair of yoga pants. Finally, to complete my look, I have little replicas of Kermit the Frog continuously printed across my white socks.

A scowl, directed in Jace's direction, is thrown and my only response is a mischievous grin, giving my eyes full access to the chipped front tooth.

"Love your outfit, by the way," he snickers.

"You know, Jace, I hope you realize that if I could get up, you could be on the floor with your ass beat. Shut up."

"Relax, sweetheart," the butterflies in my stomach decide to wake up, "I'm joking. You look fabulous. And I love that band, by the way." He finishes his sentence, raising his index finger to point to my sweater.

Using my thumb and index fingers on both hands, I raise up the front of my sweatshirt, lifting both of my eyebrows disbelievingly. "This band? Mayday Parade? Are you for serious?"

"For serious?" A ghost of a smile crosses his features. "Yes, I am completely for serious."

A squeal that I have no recollection of ever hearing before this moment in time escapes my mouth. Grabbing my laptop, I temporarily minimize my Etsy page and open up Spotify. My Mayday Parade playlist blasts through the room, the first song being Black Cat from A Lesson in Romantics, their first album. Moving over, I pat the, now empty, space next to me on my bed.

Smiling, Jace flops down right next to me, jostling my ankle roughly, and slowly places his feet on the foot board. The searing pain hasn't completely diminished so I close my eyes for a couple of seconds. When I finally decide to open them, Jace then focuses his attention on me, staring right into my eyes. I blink slowly, a silent invitation for him to speak.

"How's your ankle, sweetheart?" He asks gently, glancing down at it.

"It's fine, I guess. Doesn't hurt too bad anymore." As I say this, I look down, suddenly blinking rapidly. Jace's face changes, abruptly becoming lighthearted. A deep chuckle that comes from his chest resonates around the room.

"Then why are you still in bed, and your face always scrunches up when it's moved. Like, when I got on the bed a second ago, it shifted your ankle and you winced. You know I'm right, Clare."

"It's not that bad, okay? I'll be fine and out of bed in the next couple of days. Actually, since my parents are out, can we go to your apartment? I really hate it here and, I swear, I'm suffocating in this room."

"Sure thing, sweetheart," Jace hops up, and turns around to face me once again. "Except there's no way to transport you from here to my car without carrying you the whole way."

I wrack my brain for a solution to this problem. And a solution is what I get.

"You're just gonna have to carry me, then."

My seatbelt is strapped across my body by Jace. Since I've been in his Mercedes, I've made a huge list of pros and cons - the list is called "Exploring Crap with Jace".

PROS

- he actually takes care of me

- he tries to make me feel comfortable

- he's really hot

- like really hot

- he likes Mayday Parade so he actually might like other bands too

- he seems to have a mild interest in getting to know me

CONS

- he knows my brother

- he's friends with my brother

- he's best friends with my brother

- he seems like he's into tall, leggy blondes (of which I am not)

- I think I'm being to clingy half of the time I'm around him

- he's really bad at showing emotion

- I never know how he feels

- he's confusing

- he's mysterious

- I really don't know him that well

I'm still creating his huge list of pros and cons in my head when Jace climbs into the driver's side of the car. Generously sparing me a quick glimpse, he turns his eyes to the task at hand: reversing out of his parking spot.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Keeping his eyes on the road, Jace glances at me.

A snort escapes my lips and a disgusted look forms on my face. "A penny? Jace, you and I both know that my thoughts, worthy of the praise of Newton, Graham-Bell, and Einstein, are worth a hell of a lot more than a penny."

Jace's hearty laugh is contagious so we both fall over the dashboard, violently laughing our asses off.

"So what were you thinking about, sweetheart?"

"You."

AN: Decided to give you guys some crap because, well, I'm leaving for like 2 weeks and I won't be coming back. So if I didn't update now, it'd be cruel and harsh. Put away your pitchforks and your torches. Expect an update AS SOON as I get back.

AND COMPLETELY DIFFERENT TOPIC BUT GOOD LORD. IF ANY OF YOU LISTEN OR WANT TO LISTEN TO PIERCE THE VEIL, THEIR NEW SONG JUST CAME OUT (AFTER 3 YEARS). IT'S REALLY GOOD. LIKE, REALLY GOOD.

Follow, favorite, and review.

Love you, babes,

- fucj