Izzy POV
Here's the truth: I'm having a really good time, and I'm not completely sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, Simon is cute, and I guess I could have a little fun with him. But on the other hand, Simon is starting to seem like the sort of guy that I couldn't have just a little fun with. On the one hand, I could go home with him and treat this like any other date. But on the other hand… Wow, I'm really starting to sound like that old guy from Fiddler on the Roof.
It isn't lust that I'm feeling right now, it's something else, something that I usually actively tried to avoid. Now, don't freak out, I'm not in love with him or anything, but I do feel… something, and I don't know how to deal with it.
I'm not even fully aware of this feeling until our legs accidentally brush under the table, and I feel the strangest urge to giggle. Not the way I do when I'm drunk and flirting, but a genuine, delighted giggle. But I don't, because that would be totally lame.
Simon makes me feel comfortable, but not in the way my brothers do. He makes me feel safe, even though I hardly know him. We've been talking for more than an hour (which I never do with any of my dates), our food has arrived and I ate my whole burger (something I also never do on dates), and he hasn't made one move on me (yet another thing which has never happened before). It's like I'm Reno Sweeny and he's Billy Crocker.
At the end of the date, we drop him off first, before Clary. He leans in to kiss my cheek as he slides out of the car. I can tell that made him nervous, and to be honest it made me a little nervous too, because no guy has ever been that… gentle with me before. I've made guys nervous, I've made guys blush, but it's usually because they think I'm hot, and they know that I know that they think I'm hot. Simons just seems to genuinely care, which is unsettling.
"Bye Isabelle." He mumbles shyly.
"Call me Izzy."
He smiles so warmly I feel my heart melt, "Bye Izzy."
"Good night Simon." And then he's gone. And then I'm disappointed that the evenings over. I turn my head to see Clary grinning at me knowingly.
"What?
"Nothing." She replies, grinning even wider.
Simon and I only have one class together; theatre. So I don't see him until last block. I do however have classes with Clary, and I surprise myself by sitting with her in social studies. Then, I surprise myself again by sitting with her and Simon at lunch. Jace sits with us too.
It's a little weird because Simon's geeky friends keep gaping at me, but at the same time it's nice, and I do like hanging out with Maya and Clary (and Simon of course). I like having some variety in my life. Is that so bad?
At theatre my eyes keep drifting up to the sound booth, where I can vaguely see the outline of Simon playing drums with pencils on the windowsill. I smile, because it's such a Simon thing to do.
The next day, I sit with him at lunch again. I'm not completely sure why. It's surprisingly more enjoyable than hanging out with the other popular kids. Actually, it's a lot more fun. Jace and Clary can't keep their hands off each other, but other than that, the rest of the people at this have actual conversations at lunch, about stuff like music, and books, and politics. For example, today Simon and Eric actually had an argument about which was the best Smiths song; Eric said There is a Light That Never Goes Out, Simon said Cemetery Gates.
"You're both wrong." I told them, "It's obviously What Difference does it Make."
They both just stared at me, until finally Eric said, "Wow, you really are a manic pixie dream girl." I laughed so hard I almost choked. That has never happened with my popular friends.
My last class of the day is gym, which is the one subject where "sweaty and gross", and "cute" are not mutually exclusive. Which rocks.
Also, growing up with three athletic brothers mean that I can hold my own in most sports against any girl, and a lot of guys. I finish running laps almost a full minute before everyone else, so I have time to rest in the sunlight a bit before Ms. Black lets us out early (which she almost always does).
As expected, at quarter to two, I am happily skipping off to the change room. Some of the other girls stay behind to flirt with the boys' class, but I don't feel like that today. I just put on some proper clothing, and shoes that aren't sneakers, and start wandering the halls, waiting for my brothers to get out of class.
For whatever reason, I end up walking by the music room, where I hear the sounds of a bass guitar, and some familiar lyrics:
"It makes you blind, it does you in
It makes you think you're pretty tough
It makes you prone to crime and sin
It makes you say thing off the cuff"
My breath catches. I know that song. It's one of my favourites, the song that helped me fall asleep, when I would stay up crying, listening to my parents fight.
"It's very small and made of glass
And grossly over-advertised
It turns a genius into an ass
And makes a fool think he is wise"
I creep over to the door of the music room, to see who's singing. As far as I know, the school band doesn't play old alternative rock songs. I don't think they even have an electric bass player.
"It could make you regret your birth
Or turn cartwheels in your best suit
It costs a lot more than it's worth
And yet there is no substitute"
The music room is empty, except for one figure in the center of the room, hunched over guitar. It's dark, so I can't see his face, but he looks strangely familiar.
"They keep it on a higher shelf
The older and more pure it grows
It has no color in itself
But it can make you see rainbows"
I like his voice. It's not "pretty", but then, the singer in the original song doesn't have a "pretty" voice either. It's rough, and unpolished, like Frank Turner or the lead singer of the Violent Femmes.
"You can find it at the Bowery
Or you can find it at Elaine's
It makes your words more flowery
It makes the sun shine, makes it rain"
I lean against the doorframe, and stare at his fingers, moving deftly along the strings, and I smile.
"You just get what they put in
And they never put in enough
Love is like a bottle of gin
But a bottle of gin is not like love."
I start clapping softly and his head shoots up so fast he almost falls out of his chair, "Shit!"
"Simon?"
"Izzy?"
"What are you doing in here?" I ask, gaping. I can't believe that was Simon singing. I walk closer, and watch him putting away the guitar quickly and furtively. He looks up at me, blushing, "You can't tell anyone, OK? I'm not supposed to be in here. It's just that it was empty, and Mr. Dean has such a nice bass and-"
"Oh my god! You stole the band teachers guitar?" I hiss.
"I borrowed it. Secretly." Simon corrects me, looking a little sheepish.
I laugh, "Simon Lewis. You are a rebel." He grins as the bell rings. Then he looks me in the eyes, grabs my hand. I feel a strange tingle go up my spine, but before I can analyze it, he's pulling me out the door, "Quick; choir practice starts in fifteen minutes!"
I laugh and run after him, in a bit of a daze. Maybe it's just because I love that song, because it so perfectly sums up all my deepest fears and all my secret desires, but hearing him sing it had taken my breath away. I never really understood why girls were into musicians before, but now I think I'm starting to get it.
How had he known?
That song wasn't popular, or modern, or catchy, why had Simon decided to play it? How did it happen that the first song I ever heard him play was the song that had been playing on the radio the day my mother had told me about my fathers' affair?
I shake my head. It was just a coincidence. It meant nothing. I'm probably just PMSing or something, that's why I'm feeling this mushy.
I don't even realize I'm outside until the school doors slam behind me. Simon must have held them open for me. Of course he did. I should probably thank him.
I turn to say something to him but he's gone. I whip around to see him sprinting towards the parking lot.
Ok, that was weird.
I follow him with my eyes, you know, to see if there's a particular reason he's running, and that's when I see the girl.
She looks about my height, with dark brown, curly hair. I can never get my hair to curl; it's too damn straight. She's wearing a long coat and scarf, so I can't see what she's wearing, but her boots are really cute. The worst part is, she's leaning back against a car in the parking lot, straight in the path of Simons trajectory.
"Wait. Slow down Izzy. You don't know that he's running towards her, it could just be a coincidence." I tell myself reassuringly. And even if she is the reason Simon's running like an Olympic athlete and grinning like the Cheshire Cat (if the Cheshire Cat was a cute boy), why should I care? Simon and I went on one date, and it was with my brother! I'm sure she's a very nice girl and completely innocent-
No, no, I take it all back; she is evil! An evil whore! An evil whore who is hugging my- I mean, who is hugging Simon. And not just hugging! She is smiling at him, and ruffling his hair and-
"Hey Iz, you okay?" Asks Jace, appearing next to me, arm draped around Clary's shoulders like he'd been doing it his whole life. "I'm fine why?" I snap.
"Sorry, you just looked a little-"
"What?"
"Constipated."
I scowl at him, "Shut up."
"Oh my god!" Squeals Clary, "Becca's back!" She ducks out from under Jace's arm and runs toward Simon and Her. "Who's that?" Jace asks.
"Becca apparently." I sneer. Of course her name's Becca, it's probably short for Rebecca; like that bitch from the Daphne du Maurier book.
"Isabelle Lightwood." Says Jace, a laugh in his voice, "Are you jealous? Because of Simon Lewis?"
"No." Maybe. Jace laughs and starts walking, "What are you doing?" I ask.
"I'm going to meet her." He calls back, "you coming?" I groan, of course I'm coming! I hurry to catch up with him and he sniggers. I flip him the bird.
We reach the little trio and I see that Simon and the girl have their arms around each other. I almost growl. Then I kick myself for being so angry. Jace looks like he's about to piss himself. I shove him with my elbow so hard he almost falls over.
Yes. That's it Izzy. Attack Jace; get your anger out on him. Do NOT let it out on the random girl your about to meet.
"Hi. I'm Isabelle." I say, sticking my hand out. To my delight, she has to take her hand off of Simon in order to shake mine. "I'm Rebecca." She smiles. I knew it!
"Jace." Says Jace."
"It's nice to meet you both." Says Rebecca.
"Jace is my... Boyfriend." Clary tells her, and Jace grins. Rebecca's eyes widen and she punches Simon in the chest, "Simon! You didn't me Clary had a boyfriend!"
"Ow! I'm sorry!" He yells. I laugh, despite myself.
"To be fair, it just happened." Offers Clary, "and it was pretty unexpected."
Rebecca sighs, "Fine. Just don't let it happen again. Just because I move to Canada doesn't mean you get to leave me out of the loop."
"Canada?" Jace asks. Rebecca nods, "Yup, I go to school at Concordia in Montreal." Wow, I grumble to myself, an older woman. Way to go Lewis.
Oh my god, what is wrong with me.
"Did you just get in today?" Simon asks her. Rebecca smiles mischievously, "Nope, I got in last night. I went out for drinks with Tessa and Sophie. Don't tell mom."
"Where did you sleep?"
"At Tessa and Magnus's. They let me sleep on a mattress in the living room. Again don't tell mom."
Simon laughs, "It's good to have you back Becky."
"It's good to be back. I miss New York!"
Honestly, they're like excited little puppies.
"Alright," Simon says, "I just need to run back to get my backpack, and then we can go."
"You forgot your backpack?" Asks Rebecca.
Simon blushes sheepishly, "Yeah, well, I was a little…err… distracted, when I came out of the school." He glances at me and I smile. Then I remember I'm mad at him and change it to a frown. Simon seems confused by this, but he lets it go and runs into the school.
As soon as he's gone, Clary whips around and turns to face Rebecca, "OK. Tell me about the guy."
Wait what?
"Oh my god, he's awesome. He's from Vancouver, and he has great taste in music, and he is so hot!" Rebecca tells her excitedly.
Ok, I am officially confused. I share a look with Jace, who also looks concerned, but more because Clary is discussing the hotness of other guys.
"Wait… what guy?" I ask, trying to keep the edge out of my voice.
"Oh, his name's Jack, he goes to school with me."
"And Simon…" I probe.
"Can't know until it's official. Last time I told him about a guy who wasn't my boyfriend, he totally freaked out. He's so weird like that."
"Well he is your brother." Laughs Clary.
If I was drinking something I would have done a spit take.
"Your-your brother?" I ask.
"Yes, of course, why?" Rebecca asks.
"I-um-nothing." I stutter, "I gotta go." I hurry off. What is the matter with me? Jace follows me, snickering quietly. "Don't say a word." I warn him.
We find Alec, waiting for us by the car, and I storm to the shotgun seat, cutting off Jace completely. Ugh! I can't believe I was such an idiot! And, more than that, I can't believe why I was such an idiot. We spend the ride in silence.
By the time we get home I have reached conclusion: I really have to talk to someone about this. I don't have any sisters, so I decide to use the next best thing, my gay brother.
Apparently, this was not a very good idea.
"You want to talk about what!?" Asks Alec.
"Simon."
"Simon Lewis?"
"Yes."
Alec falls back onto his bed, defeated, moaning something like, "Why me?"
"Because," I tell him, "You're the only one who I can talk to about boys."
"Just because I'm gay, it doesn't mean I want to talk to you about the guys I see, or the guys you see-"
"Wait. The guys you see? Are you seeing guys?" I interrupt him, Simon momentarily forgotten. Alec blushes deeply, "Well, I, err…"
"Alec."
"I went out with Magnus Bane." He spits out. My mouth falls open. "What-but-when?" I ask.
"Um, a couple days ago."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Hey, weren't we talking about you, and your life?" He asks.
I frown, "Fine. We'll talk about you and Magnus later. I need your help. I think I just got jealous of Simon's sister.
Alec snorts.
"Shut up. I didn't know they were related. I just- I saw him with another girl and I got angry. Is that crazy?"
"Yes."
"You're not helping."
"What do you want me to say Isabelle?"
"I don't know! Aren't you gay guys supposed to be full of meaningful advice about stuff like this?"
He sighs, "Fine, I'll ignore momentarily that mindless generalization because' can come up with." He presses on his temples with his index fingers and closes his eyes in mock concentration. I know he's making fun of me, but I can't really bring myself to care.
"You like him." He decides finally, "You like him and you felt jealous today because you like him, and you want him all to yourself."
I swear under my breath, "Yeah. That's what I was afraid of."