~Clary~

Apparently, "in private" meant out back in the alleyway behind Mal's, next to the dumpsters and hustle and bustle of the city-side. It was cold, even in my winter coat and scarf getup, and I could see my breath like a white smoke cloud. So, not only was I freezing, but standing in the presence of the boy who'd broken my heart no more than a couple weeks ago. Uncomfortable didn't even begin to describe it.

I looked down at my shoes, finding solace and some form of familiarity in them; I'd been wearing the same Chuck's since middle school, and with them I had made it all those years without my mother, depending too-heavily on Jace, and, oh yeah, hopelessly pinning after him. I guess I should hate them, even though most of the memories they'd been apart of were good, because all of the bad memories were too momentous to simply avoid thinking about. In these shoes I had fallen in love, and in these shoes I'd had my heart broken because of it.

I'd feel as if I weren't even in my own skin, though, if I were wearing anything different. I wasn't the type of girl to coordinate my shoes with my outfit of the day, or to "change things up". I appreciated things to remain stagnant and unchanging, which can account for my cowardice when it came to admitting my feelings for Jace—because certainly exploiting my feelings that weren't all-too friendly to my friend would come with some imminent changes.

And now, everything was different.

I could feel Jace staring at me, and it was so unsettling that I had to shift on my feet every couple of seconds to keep myself from blushing or giving headway to all of the emotions that were rippling just underneath the surface of my skin. I hated to think that our friendship, which had been called "inseparable", now has me trying to hide myself from Jace, the one person I was supposed to reveal all to.

And the silence was deafening. I'd thought that when Jace said "talk" that we'd actually, you know, talk, and instead we were standing opposite each other, acting like complete strangers. It got to the point that I had to be the one to break it, albeit with a huff. "So, this isn't going anywhere," I told Jace, finally looking at him and seeming to take him off guard. "Thanks for the 'talk'." The words left my mouth bitterly, and then I was already whirling around to head back inside before I could gauge his reaction.

There was a desperate hand that reached out and gently grabbed my shoulder that made me stop almost against my will, though. "Clary, please," Jace said, and despite me not being able to see his face, I knew he was being sincere. That he was as upset as his tone betrayed. "I'm...trying to think of the right things to say. I don't—I can't have you being mad at me anymore, and I don't want to make things worse by..." he trailed off, as if realizing something in the midst of what I supposed to be the beginning of a long apology. "Look at us," he said, to my surprise. "Just a month ago we were sneaking over to each others houses and watching movies, and laughing, and telling each other everything, and now..."

I sighed, turning back around to face him, trying to ignore the pang of guilt I felt. "This is a real sorry excuse at trying to make amends—if that's even what you're trying to do."

Jace looked taken aback, but his expression returned to its normal state along with his shoulders deflating in agreement. "Yeah," he said, "it is."

I looked at him harshly, as if trying to make all the things I wanted to hear him say just come out and into the open, but Jace, for once, appeared to be at a loss for words, opening and closing his mouth like a gaping, confused fish. "Just spit it out!" I demanded suddenly, unable to help my arms that moved on their own behalf. "We haven't talked in two weeks, and yet I know you've come over to my house begging to do just that. What were you going to say then, if I had allowed you to come in? Nothing?"

"I-I...I'm sorry," he finally managed.

I narrowed my eyes at him, feeling them well up with tears. "You're 'sorry'," I repeated in unconcealed disbelief. "Sorry, Jace? Really? Just forget it. Clearly we're not going to fix things between us and I'd rather not waste my time here with you when I'm cold and hurt, and upset, and tired of thinking about how wonderful our friendship was—because I don't even know if I want it back anymore."

I took a deep breath, letting my words linger in the air as I scrubbed hastily at a miserable tear that I had made the mistake to let fall. I wasn't seeing Jace, I wasn't seeing anything, really, just talking blindly and relying on all of my festering and pent up emotions to just spill out. It was long over-due, and I was tired, and Jace needed to hear it. "I think you knew," I told him shakily. "I think you knew all this time that I liked you—"

"No, Clary, I truly, honestly, from the bottom of my heart didn't. I would've—"

"Shut up!" I interjected sharply. "I gave you the opportunity to talk and you didn't take it. Now it's my turn." I had to take a few moments to take hold of all that I wanted him to know so it didn't just come out as one big garble of words. That was hard to do, seeing as I couldn't even tell whether I was more sad or angry at this point. "How couldn't you have known?" I managed. "There is no possible way that you couldn't have known if Sebastian of all people knew. I think you knew, and I think you would've continued to allow me to have these feelings for you for as long as you could, pretending otherwise, because you obviously don't feel the same way, and you didn't want to 'lose our friendship'. Well, guess what? You lost it."

"Don't say that," Jace said, sounding desperate. He took a step towards me, reaching out his hands, which I, in turn, recoiled away from. The hurt that I registered in his face became one in the same with my own, but I had to push it down despite how hard it was. I felt like crying like a baby and slapping him repeatedly in the face and screaming until my throat was raw, because he'd ruined everything. It was his stupidity and ignorance and unwillingness to confront this blockade between us head-on. Be damned if he broke things off with Emily, because, even if he hadn't, our problems were boiling over even before she came into the picture.

"Don't say that, Clary," he repeated. "Please don't say that. You are one of the most important, if not the most important person in my life. I love you, Clary—"

"Not the same way I do," I said, sounding hopeless. I looked up at the sky, more tears spilling over, before I finally met him with a surely broken gaze. "I thought that I could ignore it, and I thought that I could be any way you wanted me to be if it meant that you were happy, even if that meant pretending I didn't care when you dated other girls who all treated me like crap behind your back. But, it's just not fair...I had to listen to you talk about other girls—how beautiful and exceptional and perfect they all are, and wonder if you'd ever talk about me like that. With every girl you dated, you-you practically dangled them all in my face, and then I'd have to go home and wait until you'd call or come over and act like I liked them just as much as you said you did.

"And that day when you first met Emily, and you were talking about her like she was 'the one', and were describing her with so much amazement and talking like you already loved her, I..." I trailed off, wiping at my eyes and then crossing my arms over my chest as if to comfort myself with a hug. "For just a moment there, I actually thought that you were talking about me...And then I saw who she was, and I couldn't believe it. She threatened me and made fun of me—in front of you—and talked about me like I was some misbehaved dog or something. She broke my glasses, Jace—which may not seem like a big deal, but to someone who can hardly afford cable and eats leftovers most days of the week, it was.

"And then when I told you, you didn't even believe me, and-and you chose her over me, even when I've known you my whole life practically and she just walked into ours, like, two days ago. If you think, for one second, that I'll just forgive you, you're wrong. I'm sick and tired of always 'pretending'; I don't want to have to act like I'm okay around you when I'm not. When you call me 'cute' or 'adorable', or ruffle my hair and talk to me like I'm 'one of the guys', that hurts, okay? A lot. I'm not one of the guys, and it really hurts when you talk to me like I am, or make fun of me because I've never had a real boyfriend or my first kiss—"

I stopped my rant abruptly, my face draining of color when I recounted what had happened earlier today with Sebastian. I have had my first kiss, even though I hadn't wanted it; I'd wanted to save my first kiss for someone who I knew I loved, who was special, for Jace. And then I was angry, because if Jace hadn't been too much of a coward to confront his problems and actually go to school, surely he would've stopped that from happening—but, no. How could he have? It's not like I would've talked to him if I saw him. Most probably I would've given him the most nasty glare I could muster before turning in the other direction. Sebastian kissing me would've happened regardless of Jace or Emily. He was just a sick person, and I couldn't turn that on Jace, even if he'd hurt me just as bad, if not ten times worse.

But I still couldn't help but feel like it still was Jace's fault. If he had only opened his eyes and stood up for me, and, what? Swooped me up in his arms and rode off with me into the sunset...No. I could be mad at Jace for plentiful reasons, but I couldn't be mad that he doesn't feel the same way about me. I couldn't force my feelings onto him, and I wouldn't dream of it, but the fact of the matter was that he'd manipulated and abused our friendship. He'd taken advantage of me, and would've kept stringing me along as long as I would've allowed him to.

He wasn't all to blame, for it had taken me this long to finally gain a backbone, but Jace had still chosen a pretty face over a girl he's known since our days in diapers. I couldn't just forgive that.

He seemed to notice my abrupt silence, and took another step forward. "Clary—"

"I guess I forgot to tell you, what with our whole not speaking to each other for half a month," I said. "But it happened today."

"What happened today?" Jace asked, his eyebrows furrowed. Realization dawned on his face and I don't know how I felt when I saw that he looked somewhat hurt. He didn't have the right. "Who?" he said in a small voice.

"Sebastian," I whispered.

His eyes widened and then Jace looked enraged, as if he thought that I had let him kiss me. "No, Clary. He's bad news—you know this. Why would you let him kiss you?"

"Just like you knew deep down Emily was bad news?"

"Oh, so this is what this is about?" he said in disbelief, slapping his hands against his legs. "You're trying to get back at me. You think that if you go around kissing that prick that you can somehow hurt me like I hurt you whenever I kissed Emily—"

"No, you complete and utter asshole. Sebastian kissed me. I didn't have a choice in the matter because I was pinned up against the boys locker-room wall with his hand yanking out my hair! Is that what kind of person you think I am? You haven't talked to me in two weeks, and you think that all this time I've been plotting to 'get back at you'?" I scoffed in unconcealed anger, shaking my head. "You know, this was a mistake. I shouldn't have even come out here with you because I finally realize that I can't change you; you'll always be self-centered and going after the 'next big thing', willing to turn your back whenever there's a pretty face with high-heels and raccoon-eyes. You still have the nerve to think the worst of me, when, news flash: you're the one who hurt me. Not the other way around—"

"I'm sorry, Clary," Jace suddenly exclaimed. "I am so, so, so sorry. I know you're nothing like that, and I'm a complete idiot for even thinking you'd have your first kiss with someone I know you hate. I'm stupid, okay? You know that, too. Otherwise I wouldn't have treated you so badly and talked about other girls when I have you—the best, most amazing girl there is—"

He was cut off by my hand—acting on its own accord—coming down on his face like a whip. He clutched the cheek that I had, unbelievably, slapped, his eyes wide with shock. "Don't do this," I practically shouted. "Don't talk about me like you finally realize that I'm the one when you very well know that I'm not. Don't say these things to help your apology sound better, because it's only going to hurt me more. You only think of me as a friend, and this topic should've been discussed ages ago, but don't you dare think that by showering me in compliments and telling me everything that I want to hear will make me feel better if you feel wrong saying it."

"But that's just the thing, Clary," Jace said, closing the small gap between us completely. With both of his hands, he clutched my shoulders, desperate to regain my attention and prevent me from turning away. His face, adorned with a new, small, red handprint on his cheek, demanded to be looked at as his impossibly golden eyes looked deeply into my own. "It doesn't feel wrong. It feels right. In fact, it feels like the most natural and right thing to say: I do like you. Hell, I love you—and not as a friend. And I'm not just saying it because I know that you feel a certain way. I'm saying this because I don't want to be stupid anymore and keep pushing away the best thing in my life. You mean the world to me, Clary. And none of those other girls can compare to you.

"I may not have realized that I loved you until after I lost you, but I do now. I love you—and I'm more sure about this than I am about anything. You're my best friend, but you're more than that. You're someone I can't live without, and I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm sorry that I made the biggest mistake of my life and let you go, when I should've realized all along that the reason I was never happy with any of the other girls I was with was because none of them were you.

"I was desperate to feel a connection as deeply as I felt with you with someone else, because, how could I possibly be in love with my best friend?" he laughed breathily, wiping at the tears now freely falling from my cheeks. "The girl who vomited all over Mrs. Clover's classroom in pre-k, and enjoys surprise-attacking me with Nerf guns, and putting away an entire gallon of ice cream during our movie marathons when you're only a pint big. I didn't think that I could love someone who I could, devotedly, tell everything to, who I could reveal myself completely to. I thought that having a relationship was a different type of connection—and I know I'm stupid—and I was looking for something that was impossible to find because I already had it— I sound like such a cheesy douchebag, but, Clary, I love you and I'm sorry."

I shook my head, trying to make sense of the fact that what he was telling me was what I have been waiting for him to tell me for years now. I almost couldn't believe it, and I was such a mess that I even questioned whether I was hearing him correctly, but I was also so hurt that it was hard to just accept that he felt the same way about me. How could someone who broke my heart and manage to belittle me into a pool of tears and second-guessing myself, love me? Then again, how could I love someone who broke my heart and belittle me into tears and anxiety?

Perhaps Jace truly didn't know that I loved him beyond the limit of being just friends, perhaps he did, but all this time he still hadn't known that he felt the same way about me—and now he suddenly does? It was unfathomable, yet so beautifully and erratically delivered that I found myself giving into the words I had been, for so long, desperate to hear with all my vulnerable heart. I didn't want to just give in and suddenly forgive him, turning into silly putty at the prospect of a few promising and powerful words, but I was runny syrup, so worn out and free of elasticity that I wanted to just collapse in his arms. It was exhausting, really.

"And I know what you're thinking: that I'm the biggest jerk known to mankind. That I don't deserve you, because I truly don't," Jace continued when he realized that I was stunned into silence. I found him, right before my eyes, regaining his step and speaking with more resolve; with more force behind his words—enough to threaten my balance. "When that disaster with Emily happened, and I didn't believe you—even though, deep down, I knew that I had every reason to—and you walked away after telling me that you never wanted to speak to me again, you broke my heart. I hated to think that I had hurt you so badly and made you cry, I hated that I couldn't stand up for you, let alone decide between that bitch and you. I knew that she was full of lies Clary, I really think I did, but...I had just been so hopeful that she could be the one I could have that connection with, that I didn't care.

"But she's gone now. I broke up with her the moment you left—and called her a 'bitch' to her face," he laughed, and I couldn't help but smile a little myself, albeit with wobbly lips and tears irritating my contacts. "And you had me so worried because I couldn't get ahold of you and I couldn't talk to you. Your father probably thought it was a banshee outside whenever I came over to see you—and just seeing the way he looked at me, Clary, it was...the worst feeling in the world. He looked at me with all the disappointment I felt with myself, and for a while I wanted to disappear, too. But, you're right: I had hurt you. And I need to fix this, because I can't lose you, okay?

"I'm an idiot and a coward and I can't even think of one good reason as to why you should forgive me—but I love you. And I hate to see you this upset, and I hate that for so long you thought about yourself like this, when, really, you're better than me. You shouldn't have been trying to put up this front that would please me, Clary. I should've been doing it for you. What you've done for me, though, means more to me than anything. I don't know why you stuck around this long, but thank you, because I'd be a whole lot worse without my best friend.

"The next time I see Sebastian, I'm going to send him to the emergency room, because now you have to be kissed against your will for a second time today."

Before I could even register what he said, his lips were on mine. At first, I found myself going rigid in his arms, unfamiliar with the sensation and so beyond comprehension that I didn't know left from right, but it didn't take long for me to realize that Jace was kissing me.

And so I kissed him back.

Sorry I had to end it there, but a new chapter is coming! I mean it this time.

Thank you so much for all of your reviews and private messages; I've read them all and taken them to heart. I have no excuse other than I've been busy and somewhat unmotivated to write lately because of my creative writing class. That teacher is horrible when it comes to homework...

Hopefully this resolve, though, makes up for my absence! You guys are amazing!

Until next time, peace(: