~Clary~

I wasn't able to get too far, however, because suddenly a hand was firmly clasped over my mouth and another was yanking my arm towards the body of another. My back was then met with the cold brick of a locker room wall, and, after my body had gotten over the initial fear still present just beneath the surface, it took me all but a second to process the offender looming over me.

Sebastian.

"Well," he smirked, his dark and calculating eyes grazing over my body and lingering over my lips momentarily before they brought themselves to meet mine. "I can't say that I don't appreciate this," he said, using one of the hands on either side of my head, caging me in between him and the wall, to twirl a strand of my straightened hair between his fingers. "It's a nice look for you...And, after, what was it? Two weeks, it's a nice surprise—even though I know it's not for me." He smiled knowingly, in an near mocking-way, his warm breath fanning over the side of my face as a laugh escaped him.

I huffed and straightened up, shoving against him harshly—when my back was slammed against the wall once again, leaving me out of breath and staring up at Sebastian incredulously. "What do you think you're doing?" I demanded. Did he really just do that? "I knew you were a creep, but I didn't think you'd go as far as to pounce on your victims unsuspectingly. In the boy's locker room no less."

Sebastian's noticeable overdose on cologne, no matter how overbearing it was, did nothing to mask the horrible smell around us. It was almost sickening how awful it was—like the end result of Jace's worn football gear soaking in sweat after having been concealed inside a bag for the entire weekend. And I thought the girl's locker room was bad.

He scoffed. "My 'victims'. Is that what you call them?"

I stared at him hotly, eyes narrowing accusingly. "It's not exactly a secret that you've been with more girls than hardly believable. And not all of them were as interested in you as you were them—"

Sebastian's once-gentle hold on my hair turned into a full-on handful matting and pulling painfully on my roots. He used his leverage over me to pull my face closer to his, to press his lips nearly over my own. My breath caught in my throat. "What exactly are you implying?" He somewhat pulled away, enough to fix me with an intent and threatening look, one that set me more on edge than when he'd first pulled me into the locker room. "I'd be careful if I were you...You're not in the most secure of situations." A warning. A definite warning.

I tried to maintain eye-contact, and to keep my voice steady, but my instincts were gnawing at my insides like crazy. Get out of here. Get away from him. Now. It's never really occurred to me until now that Sebastian could really hurt me; he was bigger—so much bigger than me, and stronger, and faster, and undoubtedly more desensitized. The guy didn't even care that he was holding me against my will, or that he was nearly ripping the hair from my scalp. He didn't care that I'd told him 'no' before, or that I wasn't at all interested. This whole time, while I've been worried about possibly encountering Jace or Emily, I hadn't even given a thought about Sebastian. The guy was unpredictable. There was no telling what he could do—and I was alone with him. With no one around to intervene.

"You need to let me go," I said levelly. "I-I have friends—they're waiting for me at my locker. If I'm not there soon, they'll start looking for me."

This didn't faze him, if anything it seemed to give him a bad of confidence. "What is it, exactly, that you think I'm going to do to you?" he chuckled.

"It's obvious that I don't want to be here with you," I said hastily. "I've been avoiding you if you couldn't tell. But that obviously doesn't matter—not to you, at least." I found his unwavering and daring gaze to be a challenge in itself to match, and yet I couldn't bring myself to just shut up; I wasn't doing myself any good by provoking him further.

"And..." he drawled, not necessarily inquiringly. "This scares you about me."

I didn't answer to that. I didn't have to.

He laughed, slowly loosening the hold he had in my hair to bring the pad of his thumb to my bottom lip and maneuver it down to my chin. I tried to stay perfectly still, hyperaware of his every movement. "Can you blame me, though?" he breathed, bringing his eyes down to where his thumb lingered and gradually applying pressure until I noticeably flinched. Only then did he move his attention elsewhere, sliding not only his thumb, but the entirety of its connected hand down to my throat to curl around it. My heartbeat was deafening. "It's not every day that you find a girl such as yourself. So many others, unfortunately for you, are too...What's the word? Easy to get. Sure, they're all prettier than you. It's noted. And they're sure as hell more confident," he laughed breathily, meeting my eyes once again. "—Sometimes that whole shy-thing you've got going on gets a little...irritating."

After a drawn out sigh that might as well have said oh well, he continued on easily. "And those 'other girls', they're definitely more experienced. They're not helplessly pinning after the same guy—" I looked down, ashamed at this "—and they know there's more fish in the sea. They know they can get them, too. But...sometimes not knowing is more interesting. At least to me, when my whole life I've been around girls that know too much. You're a cute girl, Clary, and...I appreciate that, but you need to move on—"

My eyes flashed, disbelieving. "To you? That will never happen—"

His hand contracted around my throat, silencing me at once. He clenched his jaw and squeezed a little harder before releasing the pressure altogether. "Here you are," he scoffed, "telling me to beat it, practically, when you're telling the guy that chose a slut he'd known for not even for a week over you, that you'll drop anything to run to his arms when they're finally open."

I shook my head in denial. "No. I'm done with Jace. I cut off all ties to him. You don't know what you're talking about."

"But don't I? You say this now, but it's only been two weeks. Who's to say that you won't change your mind the second you see him again."

"I won't," I gritted out.

"Did you know," Sebastian persisted, "that your golden boy is still with her?"

My eyes widened. Of course, somewhere deep down, I had accepted that Jace was with Emily. He'd chosen her over me, after all. But, after weeks of not seeing him, but hearing him pleading to my father to let him see me, of him constantly calling and emailing and texting, and never giving up, I'd held onto this false sense of hope that he'd changed his mind. It was stupid, now that everything was put into perspective. I'd told him that I never wanted to speak to him again, so why on earth would he give up Emily if he already lost me? The mere thought of him still being with her, though, after everything that had happened, was a slap in the face. He still chose her. And he still wanted me in his life sitting on the sidelines.

Sebastian smiled at the noticeable effect his words had over me. "He hardly comes to school anymore, but I hear that he practically lives over at her house."

"Stop."

"Do you think it's fair to put yourself through that? To still want to have anything to do with him when he's always putting you second?"

"I said stop, Sebastian."

"Just don't forget that while you're heartbroken and lost without him, no matter how many times he says sorry he'll never mean because he has nothing to be sorry for. He's still with her. With Emily. He doesn't care about what a bitch she is. He's not sorry."

"Shut up!" I demanded, seeing now as a fit time to start struggling in his hold and clawing at his hand.

Everything happened at once then: Sebastian yanking at my chin, me stilling in his arms, and his lips pressing against mine forcefully to forever consummate my first kiss. I violently pushed out at him, and when that didn't work, and his lips remained unmoving, I brought my knee up and kicked him as hard as my frustration and anger allowed me to. As soon as he lost his step and went slack around me, I bolted out of there.

It was that same night when I got home that my father decided it'd be a good idea to go out to dinner. It was something we hadn't done in seemingly years, with the exception of birthdays and sometimes certain holidays, and going over to Jace's to eat with his family occasionally, but I was grateful. Ever since my falling out with Jace, I had regained my footing with my father and we'd grown closer. It was small things, like simply choosing to watch a movie with him rather than watch one myself in my room, and eating with him at the table, and talking to him on a more regular, casual basis. For a long time, ever since my mom died, there had been this uncertainty between us, one that Jace had kept my mind off of for so long now, and it was finally gone.

Anyways, he let me choose where we were to eat, like always, and I couldn't think of anything better to help get my mind off of things than to sink my teeth into Mal's oversized, endlessly cheesy and gooey and fattening pizza. I hadn't been there in forever, and though my last time at Mal's happened to be with Jace, I loved it unconditionally.

However, I changed my mind as soon as we got there.

What are the odds that Jace and his family would be there, too?

It was Celine, Jace's mother, that saw us first. A dazzling smile graced her beautifully elegant features and she wasted no time to ditch her husband and son to come greet both me and my father. "Clary," she exclaimed, gasping animately. "Would you look at you. No glasses?" Her freshly-done nails were then reaching for my hair, threading between my smooth strands endearingly. "Your hair looks beautiful. I don't think I've seen you with straight hair since, what? Elementary school?" She laughed and pulled me into a hug.

It was easy to love Mrs. Herondale. She'd always been like a second mother to me and had nothing but kind words and ambiance to offer me, even now, after Jace had undoubtedly informed her of our falling out. I couldn't help but look at her and think of all the things she'd done for me; it was effortless the way she'd pay for my dinner or lunch if I was ever with the them on a day out, how her charm—uncannily similar to that of Jace's—always brought me warmth like a blanket, how she'd simply reach out and take my hand to give it a reassuring squeeze or kiss my cheek in a greeting. Having lost my mother all those years ago, Celine hadn't taken her place, no, but she'd made it somewhat more bearable with the knowledge that I had her looking out for me.

Not to mention, Celine had been there when I first got my period. Without her, Jace would've been able to blackmail into doing anything. Let's just leave it at that.

She pulled away with a warming smile, pinching my cheek ever so slightly before wrapping one her arms around my narrow shoulders to give Jace and Mr. Herondale a perfect view of me. "Isn't our Clary just lovely." Stephen, Jace's father, was quick to pull me into a back-breaking hug, kissing the top of my head. I was yanked from Celine's embrace and into his. Like Jace, Mr. Herondale was just big, and so, naturally, he was quite strong too. He forgot this sometimes. "Like father like son" had never had such freakishly literal meaning before Jace and Stephen; they were mirror images of each other. Standing side-by-side, they were practically the same height, though Mr. Herondale still had a few inches over his son, and, if I didn't know any better, and if Mr. Herondale wasn't growing his beard out, I would've the two could be brothers.

"She's beautiful," he said, lifting me off of the floor momentarily before setting me down and clasping my shoulder as he would to another guy around his size. Yeah, it was a little too rough for me and I had to take a moment to balance myself outright again, but I didn't do anything but smile in return. Celine, however, hit his arm.

"You can't go around doing that to people, Stephen," she chastised. "Do you want her arm to fall off?"

"Come on, Celine," Mr. Herondale laughed, his voice as guttural and friendly as always. "The girl can take it."

Celine placed her hands over her hips, arching an eyebrow—a look Jace had inherited and used himself on a daily basis. "You forget that you're over six-feet tall and two-hundred pounds—"

"It's a-hundred-ninety-eight—"

She huffed at the interruption. "Oh, is it now? Is that why I'm apparently fifteen pounds lighter than I was yesterday?"

Mr. Herondale blushed. "That's great, honey—"

Celine turned towards me, rolling her eyes as if to say men. "He's supposed to be on a diet, and he thinks that I'll get off of his case if he loses some weight. So, naturally, he reset our scale and didn't think I'd notice."

I widened my eyes engagingly, laughing breathily. "Did he now?

"He did," she nodded, shaking her head exasperatingly. "He thinks he's so clever, but I know what he's up to." She shot her husband a look, one that held warning but that was distinctly loving.

"I am still on my diet," Mr. Herondale coughed. "I had a salad—"

"And six slices of pizza."

I allowed myself to become overly-engaged in their couples' not-so-serious banter, hoping that if I kept looking at them when they looked at me, smiling, and nodding occasionally, that I wouldn't have to face Jace—whose eyes never stopped pleading for mine since we got to Mal's. I could feel him and his ever-present gaze like an unwanted neon light blinking in my peripheral vision.

Celine rolled her eyes as her husband grinned cheekily at all of us. "Well, anyways, Clary, we haven't seen you around in a while," she said, looking me over again. "I've missed having another girl in the house."

My heart contracted painfully in my chest, but I smiled anyways. I was thankful for my father, then, who came to the rescue and put a comforting hand along my lower back. "Clary hasn't been feeling well for the past couple of weeks. I think she's doing better now, though."

As Celine and Stephen nodded understandingly and carried on their conversation with my father, I couldn't help but want to see Jace's reaction. And so I did the stupidest thing I'd ever done and...I looked at him. He stood a little ways behind Stephen, but his aureate eyes were so bright, even from the distance he stood at, that I instinctively wanted to break the connection and stare down at my shoes. I didn't, though. I knew Jace better than I cared to admit, and I knew that right now he was clearly upset. It was all in the way that he carried himself; how he leaned against his chair like he needed some type of support, how he stood upright but not as straight as usual, how his shoulders slumped forward ever so slightly when he usually held himself with them squared. He looked exhausted, and I felt a pang of guilt hit me tenfold.

"Jace hasn't been feeling all that well himself," Stephen commented, looking over his shoulder at his son momentarily, who then avoided his father's gaze by looking down at the tiled-floor.

"Maybe these two just need to hangout," Celine said, looking genuinely troubled as she smiled tight-lipped. "They've always been inseparable."

Yeah, before Jace started to get the hots for Emily.

"I'm sure Jace is busy," I found myself saying, fueled by my resurfacing hurt and frustration and anger over the entire situation. "Now that he has a girlfriend and all." I deliberately avoided Jace's eyes then, staring solely at Celine and Stephen.

Both of their eyes went wide with shock. "What?" Celine exclaimed, whirling around to face her son. "You have a girlfriend—?"

"No," Jace said, but he wasn't looking at his mom when he said this. He took a step towards me, and, if it weren't for my father's hand on my back, I would've stumbled backwards in surprise. "Clary. I don't have a girlfriend. I'm telling you, Emily and I are done. I broke things off with her as soon as you left that day. I was stupid—"

"Well this is all news to me," Mr. Herondale mused, looking between us.

Jace, suddenly conscience of all the other eyes in the room on us, including the pizzeria-dudes in the kitchen, flushed and swallowed a little uneasily. "Clary," he then said, holding my gaze. "Can we...talk? In private?"

I looked up at my father as if he had the answer for me, but then, before I knew it, I found myself nodding, coming to my own decision. "Okay."

Sorry I didn't update on Wednesday like what my new schedule promised, buuuut...It's getting down to the last week until finals and things are just crazy. As soon as I'm on break, though, things should be getting back to normal! Hope you guys liked this chapter!

Please review and tell me your thoughts(:

Until next time, peace

Will edit soon.