I handed in my LA project today so I was able to put in the finishing touches and update. Enjoooy xx

Disclaimer: I don't own the Mortal Instruments series, but I do have unruly red hair and man is it annoying.

Chapter Four

I stood with crossed arms, glaring at myself in the bathroom mirror. Isabelle was behind me, straightening my very curly red hair. I had told her it was useless, but she dismissed me with a wave of her hand and said, "Nothing is impossible when I do it."

I was skeptical at first, but she actually seemed to be doing it. I was… dare I say it… impressed. After she was done, she loaded on the fruity smelling hairspray and combed my hair. It was the first time that I could remember that the hairbrush hadn't been stopped on a knot. Cue the gasp.

Simon had told Isabelle that I wasn't going to try for this date in hopes that Jace wold forget me and go on with his business. So that prompted Isabelle to come and dress me for this date. She had chosen skin-tight jeans from my closet, a white tank-top, and a cropped jacket.

"Do you know how to skate?" Isabelle asked suddenly.

"A little. I took lessons when I was little." I replied. "Why?"

"We're going skating."

"For the date?!" I cried. "Isabelle!"

"Oh, calm down, Clary, public skating times are only for a few hours. You'll be fine."

"But… but…" I spluttered.

Isabelle grabbed my arm and led me out to the living area. Simon looked up and readjusted his glasses.

"Well, its quarter after six, do you want to go?" he offered.

"Yeah, sure," Isabelle agreed. She pulled me to the door. "Don't worry, Clary. You'll love Jace."

I most certainly didn't love Jace. I could tell from the moment I laid eyes on him.

He had worn low-hanging jeans that looked amazing on him, and a long sleeved black shirt with a v-neck. His hair was in a perfect disarray around his chiseled face and the first thing that popped into my head was: I really want to draw him.

I shook my head as if to shake the thought out of my brain. Get a grip, Clary.

"Hello," he said seductively as he approached me. Izzy and Simon were renting skates on the other side of the room. I was trapped. "I assume you're the Clary Izzy keeps on blathering about?"

"Unless she knows another Clary, I guess not," I said in a fake sad voice that I hoped would send the message that I didn't want to be here.

But Jace didn't take the hint. "Well, I'm glad she set us up together. You look like a fallen angel," he smirked, which made my breath catch in my throat. The effect he had on me was disgusting.

"Um," I looked everywhere but him, but I could still feel his stare on me, which made me want to scratch my skin until it fell off.

"You sort of have an accent. Where's it from?"

"England." I had made a resolve to not speak in full sentences for the rest of the time he was talking to me in hopes that he would get my not-so-subtle hint.

"England, eh? Did you know that one of my ancestors lived there?"

"I do now."

Jace rocked back on his heels and looked at me, wearing a confused expression. Wondering why I'm not trying to get into your pants, Goldie? I thought coldly.

"So how do you have an accent? Did you move here?" he asked.

"Yeah," I answered.

"Hey Jace!" Izzy came up and gave a quick hug to Jace before retracting back to Simon's side again. "Did you guys get your skates already?"

"I need to get some," I said.

"Okay, come on, Clary. Let's go." Jace grabbed my hand and led me to the rental booth. As soon as we reached it, I wedged my hand out of his grasp. Jace looked at me as if he were going to say something, but turned back to the short man behind the counter.

"Size 7, please." He told the man.

"How do you know my shoe size?" I asked.

"I guessed," he winked.

"Ugh," I muttered under my breath. Not one of these guys.

Jace handed me the white skates. "Here you go."

"What about you?" I asked, taking the skates and sitting down on one of the available benches.

"I brought my own. I play hockey in my spare time."

"Fantastic," I mumbled.

"Here," Jace took the skate I was about to put on and rested my foot on his knees. "Let me do it."

And so I did. There was really no point in refusing. But then Jace's hand started trickling up my calf. I kicked my foot straight forward, which was unfortunately for him, his groin. Whoopsie. Jace let out a low groan, but didn't fall off the bench or anything.

After he was done, I waited silently for him to put his black hockey skates on before we walked out onto the ice.

"You can hold on to me if you want," he whispered huskily, holding out his arms. He had gotten on the ice first and turned around to face me.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I retorted, side-stepping his out-stretched arms and skating out onto the open ice. I skated fast away from him, but he caught up.

"You're not like other girls, are you?" asked Jace, casually matching my strides across the ice.

"Well, we would have to put all the girls you're familiar with into consideration, but considering your type—"

"My type?" Jace asked incredulously. "You don't even know me, Clary."

"I know you enough to dislike you immensely." Screw one-word answers. I was done with that.

"Bullshit," he growled.

Uncomfortable silence fell between us, but neither skated away from each other. I guess we both decided it wouldn't be very date-like to ditch one another. Plus I kept on looking at Isabelle across the ice, and she was glaring at me, gesturing crazily at me. I shrugged at her, but decided I might as well try to be nice, but that would probably prove to be easier said than done.

Jace POV

Clary was seriously pissing me off. This little red-head just came up to me and started dissing me. She didn't know anything about me.

And all I could think about was how I didn't want her to hate me. She seemed… different than all the other blind dates that Isabelle had set me up with. All the other girls hung off of me and barely had minds of their own. All they really cared about was my modeling career. Clary was somehow different.

"So… England huh?" I said, breaking the silence. "Why'd you move here?"

Clary looked away from me and was silent. "Um…" she said quietly. "I wanted to?" It sounds like a question, the way she says it. Is she not telling me why she wanted to move here? I vow to figure it out before the date ends.

"New York has a certain appeal, I guess. Any reason why you chose here?" I asked again.

"I'm an artist. New York seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Are you regretting it or something?"

Clary gave me a sideways glance, as if evaluating me. "Well, there's this one guy that is just really full of himself and can't take a hint…" she smirked.

"Simon?" I asked, incredulous. I glanced over my shoulder at him and had to supress a grin. Isabelle was practically holding him up. "I didn't think he was that bad." I smirked back at her.

As a result, Clary pushed me away from her, probably hoping I would fall over. I was used to body chucks from my hockey team, so I stayed on my feet. I skated back to her.

"I'm not that bad, am I?" I asked, serious now.

"Depends on who you ask," she replied. "I'm sure Isabelle loves you for who you are, asshole or not. And this gay brother of yours I heard about probably likes you too. But for someone who just met you and had no intention of getting a date really isn't all that impressed with you right now." After a moment, she added, "plus those girls over there keep on staring at you. It's pretty annoying." She nods her head to two girls holding each other in the middle of the rink. It doesn't look like they know how to skate. They're a little wobbly.

"Well of course they're looking at me. I'm incredibly attractive."

"Don't forget modest," Clary added with a laugh. She had a beautiful laugh. I decided that I liked making her laugh.

After skating around in silence for a while, I asked about why she moved here again.

"I just did." She answered immediately. "Can't you just drop it?" she asked sharply.

"Sorry," I mumbled. Why was she being so secretive? When you hide things, it just makes you want to know more. This was driving me insane.

"No, I'm sorry. It's just a sore subject. I don't want to talk about it," she said without looking at me.

Well, that was a nice start, wasn't it? I continued skating, but Clary stopped for some reason, staring off into the distance. I skated back to her.

"Are you all right?"

No reply.

"Clary?" I waved a hand in front of her face but she seemed in a trance. Was her face paling? Was that even possible? "Clary?"

She snapped out of it, her green eyes flitting back to mine in an instant. "What?"

"Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

She glanced back at the spot where she was staring at. I looked over my shoulder to see what she was looking at, but there was nothing there. Just benches.

"Nope," she smiled. "I'm okay." She began skating again.

Well... that was weird.