Jace's long fingers dance elegantly over the keys of the piano. Every few seconds, he glances up at the notes sitting in front of him. He hits the wrong key and the music suddenly dies. Jace sighed, about to start the piece over, when the phone starts ringing. He smacked his head on the wood key cover and sat there, listening to the phone ring for a few seconds before getting up to answer it.
"Hello?" He says dryly.
"Java Jones, tonight. You owe me." Sidney sang from the other end.
Jace groaned. "Please don't make me go." He hated poetry, and he hated it even more when the poets sucked.
"Everyone else bailed on him, I feel bad." He could practically hear Sidney scowling. "And he's not really all that bad..."
"Not that bad?" Jace questioned. "His last poem was called orange. Why would you make a poem about a word that doesn't rhyme with anything?!" Jace leaned against a wall, raising his eyebrows even though she couldn't see him. "And besides, my mom is still pretty pissed that I got home after 1 last night."
"It's not your fault that it took forever to get a cab. Plus traffic was horrible."
Jace rolled his eyes, "Okay, well you tell her that then."
Sidney was silent for a minute. "Your mom still kind of scares me."
He let out a hoarse laugh.
"Don't laugh at me! She has those scars on her back and down her arms. Who knows how she got those."
"Sidney," Jace started, "she does not have any scars. I think your weird little writer mind is warping your vision now too."
"Warping my vision? How about yours? Because people normally just disappear right." Her voice was sharp.
Jace was silent. She had a point.
"Exactly." She said. "I'll be by at 6 to walk to the Coffee House." Before Jace could argue she hung up the phone. He groaned.
Jace put the cover on the piano keys and shuffled his way to the kitchen. The linoleum floor was cold against his bare feet while he waited to flip his grilled cheese. Once it was finished, he pulled it off the pan, sliding it gently onto a plate. He had just sat down at the table when the front door lock opened.
Jace looked around himself, panicked. Generally if he were reading a book Jocelyn wouldn't interrupt him, and due to the fact that today she was particularly unpleased with Jace, what a perfect time to keep himself out of trouble.
He spotted a book and grabbed it. Right as the door opened, Jace sat down at the table, book open, reading away. He internally groaned. He hadn't had time to read the title: Twilight. He pushed down his ego and read anyways.
"Twilight?" A very not-Jocelyn voice spoke up from beside the kitchen table.
Jace smiled at Luke, "I'm getting in touch with my inner vampire." He smirked, "just in case the opportunity ever arises."
Luke just shook his head. "Vampires don't sparkle."
Jace frowned. "That's a shame. That definitely would have accentuated my dazzling personality."
Luke rolled his eyes and looked down at the untouched grilled cheese. "Your mother is bringing home food."
He shrugged and shoved half of it in his mouth. "Where is Jocelyn anyways?"
"Jace, what did I say about calling me Jocelyn?" Jace jumped at his mother's voice from behind him. She looked distracted, placing a pizza box on the table.
"Where the hell did you come from?" He raised his eyebrows at Jocelyn. "I didn't hear the door open."
Jocelyn looked down at Jace's half eaten grilled cheese, and back up at him. "That would be because you were too busy reading twilight." She wrinkled her nose at him.
"Hey it's your book." Jace responded. He looked down at the grilled cheese, back up at Jocelyn, then shoved the rest of his sandwich in his mouth. "Listen," he said between bites, "Sidney is making me go to this poetry reading thing tonight, and that's practically like punishment in itself."
"What is he being punished for?" Luke blurted in as he reached across the table for the pizza box.
Jocelyn glared at Jace. "Someone decided to come home after curfew last night, and knows that this means he isn't allowed out for a week." She responded, her eyes never leaving Jace.
Everyone was silent for a minute.
"Either way, Luke and I think that we are going to head out to the farm for the last few weeks of summer." Jocelyn sat down at the table beside Jace. He could tell she was tired. The bags under her eyes seemed especially prominent, her hair was up in a bun of red curls, and he knew it had been awhile since she had painted. His mother was the most talented artists he knew, and he also knew it was the only thing that could relax her. He could vividly remember nights when Jocelyn would begin shaking uncontrollably until she could sit herself down and pick up a paintbrush. Her artwork was all around the house and she sold her pieces to pay for bills and food and other necessities.
Unfortunately, Jace had not inherited this trait from his mother, nor any of her other qualities. She always said he looked mostly like his father (except the eyes), not that he had a clear image of that man either. His mother owned one picture of his father. It was a photograph of a burly man, head shaven, in a army uniform, with the hat and all. He died before Jace was born. Jocelyn claimed he was a war hero, even though he knew she had begun to sell his military medals when they were short on cash. Jace knew she missed his father. He knew that some nights, she would pull out a box with his initials engraved on the front (C.M. for Cale Morningstar she told him), and cry over it.
Jocelyn never got over Cale. So, her friend Luke helped raise Jace. Luke was the closest thing to a boyfriend that Jocelyn ever had, which is why he insisted that Jace stop calling him "Uncle Luke" because he was in fact not his uncle. Jace could tell that Luke was in love with his mother. Hell, everyone could. Unfortunately, however, their relationship was platonic. Jace didn't think his mother would ever move on from that loss, not the he minded the idea of her being with Luke, but he was okay with things staying the way they were.
"Well I hope you two enjoy your trip." Jace smiled, stood up and began to walk out of the room.
"I meant us," Jocelyn began, "as in all of us. Including you." Her voice was stern.
"You can't be serious." Jace said, turning back to the table. "You know I have a wrestling meet next weekend."
"Yes Jace, I know." Jocelyn sighed. "But there will be other tournaments and this is something I really need you to do for me please."
"If this is because you don't trust me here alone, I can go stay with Sidney. You know she won't mind." He examined Jocelyn's face. He could tell she wasn't budging. "Mom, please. It's the end of summer. This isn't fair."
"Jace, please. I just need you there with me okay. I just need to know you're safe."
"Safe from what?!"
"Jocelyn." Luke said sternly. She turned to look at him. Jace did as well, and he could see the looks he was giving her. Jocelyn shook her head. "Jesus christ Jocelyn, he isn't a child." Luke raised his voice once again.
Jace remained silent as his mother glared at Luke. The man let out a frustrated sigh and stormed out of the house, slamming the door on his way behind him. Seconds later, there was a knock on the same door. Jace grabbed his keys off the kitchen counter then walked to the door.
"Jace, don't you dare leave this-" Jocelyn's voice was cut off by Jace closing the front door in a similar fashion to Luke's exit. Jace leaned on the door and closed his eyes for a minute.
"Jace?" He heard a small voice from behind him. He turned and smiled at Sidney. "Is everything okay?" She asked quietly.
Jace shook his head. "Everything is just fine. Now lets go. I'm starving."
As Jace followed Sidney down the narrow stairway to the bottom level of the small, two apartment complex, he saw a man exiting the door from the lower tenant's home. The man turned to look at Jace, he seemed almost completely normal, except for the fact that his eyes looked strangely cat like. Jace forcefully blinked then looked back at the man, who was now grinning at Jace. The man quickly turned and exited the building. Maybe Sidney was right. Maybe Jace needed to just have his eyes checked. Maybe he needed glasses.