5/6/21

5

Clary's POV

"Come on Clary, just let me come over and we can get this over with." says Jace while blocking my body with his in the parking lot of the boxing gym. We had been assigned project partners for US History, and were inevitably going to have to work together on it. At the moment, Jace is insisting that he comes to mine and we go ahead and get the project out of the way, but personally, I would rather not have to spend time alone with Jace at my home.

"Can't we do this another day?" I respond to him, clamping down on the inside of my cheek, "What's the difference if we do it today or some other time, besides, I have a football game tomorrow." Jace tells me and I sigh, squeezing my eyes shut.

"Fine, fine, just please don't make me regret this." I tell him quietly and a smile creeps onto his lips.

"Good. Don't leave, I'll follow you to your house." He walks away, with a little bit of pep in his step as he goes off to his vehicle.

He is only gone for a moment before he pulls up next to me revving his sleek, black motorcycle, making my jaw clench. At this point, I'm not surprised.

"Come on Red, don't be jealous. If you're nice to me tonight, maybe I'll let you sit on it." Jace says, pulling his helmet off his head and I let out a dry laugh, "Being nice isn't exactly my forte. Plus, who says I even want to sit on it, I'd rather race you to my house." I tell him with a teasing smile.

"Tempting, but I don't know where you live." He points out, and I shrug.

"I guess you'll have to find out." I snap my helmet down into place, speeding out of the parking lot and causing my tires to squeal against the ground. It seems that I catch Jace by surprise, because I get about a five second head start on him. He quickly catches on though, and spins out of the parking lot recklessly.

We drive to my house in a manner that would get us arrested if the cops caught us. I beat Jace, obviously - I didn't give him much of a chance. He pulls his bike in next to mine in a parking spot, and cuts his engine; I do the same.

"Were you trying to kill us?" Jace exclaims with a smile on his face, "Not us, just you." I say, pulling my helmet off, and shaking my hair out. Jace takes his helmet off, and grabs his school bag and mine, and follows me towards the townhouse, "Why are you being a gentleman?" I ask.

"I'm always a gentleman," is his answer, making me shoot him a ridiculous look, "Alright, alright. I'm trying to butter you up so you do most of the work on the project."

I walk up to the front door, unlocking it and shoving it open."You live right in the middle of the city." Jace says to me, his eyes scanning around my house with curiosity,

"Good observation." I shoot back sarcastically.

"What's it like?" He asks, genuinely interested as he glances around at the pictures scattered on the wall.

"Loud, always busy, very different from my old town. I don't mind it though." I tell him, sitting down at my kitchen table, Jace mirrors my actions.

"You like the noise?" He asks, seeming confused, "When life is so busy, you don't have the time to think. You just do. Life is too fast paced to care about my past mistakes." I tell him, and a sour look crosses my face as I pull my laptop out of my backpack.

"Do you want to elaborate?" He asks. I shake my head curtly and we work for a few minutes, tapping on our laptops and writing down notes in an awkward silence. Finally, Jace speaks up, "You have a brother?" he inquires, and my eyes snap up, my hand stilling.

"Technically." Jace's raised eyebrow encourages me to continue, "My dad took off about a year ago, my brother went along with him. I haven't seen or spoken to either of them since," I tell him, clenching my hand roughly around the pencil, "They ditched my mom and I; left in the middle of the night, took all their shit and were gone." The pencil snaps under my grip, making me jump as the wood splinters into my hand.

"Damn it!" I exclaim, yanking my hand back, dropping the pencil and shooting up from the table. Talking about them makes me so angry.

"Clary," Jace stands up from his chair, coming towards me with an outstretched hand, "I knew it was a bad idea having you come over." I spit out, "I knew you would ask questions," I stomp over to the kitchen sink, "And when people ask questions, I have to talk about it, think about it," I start to recklessly pull the wood splinters out of my hand, "Thinking about it makes me mad." Blood is dripping down my hand by the time I get the needle-like wood out of my hand.

"Hey, let me see that." Jace comes up behind me, attempting to take my bleeding hand in his. I sit back, doing my best to avoid his grab, but he doesn't allow me to. He grabs me hard, making me hiss as my hand stings under his grasp. He immediately loosens, "I'm sorry." He turns the faucet on, putting my bleeding hand under the water. I feel tears prick in my eyes, not because of the pain, but because of the anger. No way will I let Jace Wayland see me cry, he doesn't deserve it. My asshole father and nonexistent brother don't deserve to be poisoning my mind like this. I doubt they are losing control over leaving me, why should I?

Jace wraps my hand in a towel, not speaking another word to me, which I'm grateful for. I don't know if I trust my voice to hide my emotions. We don't move, Jace remains in front of me with his back leaning against the counter as he holds my drying hand lightly in his, applying pressure to stop the bleeding.

"I shouldn't have asked," Jace starts, clearing his throat, "I mean, I wouldn't have asked if I knew how upset it makes you. I'm-" I cut in, "Don't apologize. I don't want your sympathy and it's not your fault." I tell him, my eyes finding themselves staring holes in my feet. Jace gives my arm a light tug, and I allow my feet to follow wherever he is bringing me. He sits me down on the couch, putting my hand back on my lap, and he sits on an adjacent couch. My lungs feel like they are going to explode under the pressure that I'm putting on myself right now.

"You must be so tired," Jace says, making my eyes snap to his honey colored ones, "What?" my voice cracks a bit as I speak, "It must be exhausting, being so angry all the time." His words cause the tears I have already bit back to well back up again.

"I'm ok." I'm not ok. Jace stares at me for a moment more, blinking. Finally I let out a loud groan, putting my head in my non-bloody hand.

"I'm past the point of being angry. I'm vengeful." I say, "No, you're hurt." Jace responds quietly, "Fine, I'm vengeful and hurt. If I ever see my dad or brother, I could strangle them with my bare hands for everything they've put my mother and I through." I tell him, clenching my good hand before I can stop myself. Jace jumps from his seat at the sight, "I understand why you box now." Jace tells me, taking his hand and unclenching mine. "You've got a lot of pent up anger to let out." Jace tells me with a stupid smirk on his face, and I let out a miserable laugh.

"All these emotions," I start, looking down at our intertwined hands, "Make me weak. I started to box as an escape from the bullshit with my father and brother, and the living situation with my mother. Turns out, all that boxing did was mask the issue; not solve it."

My head falls back against the couch cushions, "I don't even know why I'm telling you this, we aren't even friends." I let out a loud sigh of frustration, Jace gives my hand a squeeze, "Yes we are; I care about you Clary." His words bounce off the walls in my brain, making my head spin. The idea of someone caring about me and sticking around doesn't seem to make that much sense to me. A tear slips down my face and I clench my jaw, "It's alright," Jace tells me, his voice kinder than I've ever heard before. His hand lets go of mine, and he brings his arm up to circle around me. Rather than fighting his comfort, I give into it, turning my face into his shoulder and letting more tears silently fall from my eyes. I couldn't tell you how long it's been since I've cried. I didn't cry over all the horrible things my mother said to me, I didn't cry over moving to New York, I didn't cry during the nights I've spent without my brother and father, I think the last time I cried was the night Jonathan and my father left.

"At the party," I say, my voice muffled by Jace's body, "My brother, you and him have the same name. When your dad called for you, I felt like my entire body was dropped in an ice bath." I tell Jace, "We don't need to talk about this unless you want to." His hand moves slowly against my back in an attempt to soothe me.

"There's nothing much to say, I just wanted you to understand." Jace nods knowingly. We sit in silence as time ticks by, until finally, my heart rate has slowed and I feel as if I can function normally again, I roll away from Jace with a groan, embarrassment flooding my body.

"If you bring this up ever again, I will castrate you." I say into the couch cushion, causing Jace to laugh, "Don't worry, I won't let any of our friends know you have human emotions." Jace stands up from the couch offering me a hand, "Do you want to get the project done now?" I ignore his outstretched hand, pushing myself up from the couch and rubbing my hand over my tear stained cheeks, "Yeah." I agree, walking over to my kitchen table, and sitting back down in my previous spot.

o;o;o;o;o;o;o;o
o;o;o;o;o;o;o;o

"You never told me what happened to your hand." Simon asks me over the marching band during halftime of the high school football game. I grimace at yesterday's memory, if I could take every moment of it back I would. I am thoroughly embarrassed of the state Jace saw me in.

"I got some splinters, It's alright though now." I tell him with a forced smile on my face. Him, Maia, Isabelle, Magnus, and I are all sitting in the bleachers that line the football stadium as the Idris High Hunters take on the Alicante Angels. At the moment, the Hunters, meaning our school, are winning at halftime. I've never taken much of an interest in football, but Isabelle demanded I come out tonight to support the boys.

"So, how did working on the project with Jace go?" Magnus asks me with a devious glint in his eyes, I don't match his look.

"Fine, we finished that stupid US History project." I tell him, glancing briefly down at my bandaged hand, "Did you guys do anything else?" Isabelle asks, her voice laced with suggestiveness.

"No." I say firmly and dryly, "Oh." Isabelle says with a frown, I brush the conversation off as the game gets back in motion.

I don't pay much attention to it, truthfully. I spend the latter half chatting with Simon, or cheering whenever the rest of the group does. The game ends with us taking the win and we head down to the locker room entrance to meet the boys.

They come charging toward us, smiles beaming on their faces as they celebrate their victory in the first game of the season. Alec is the first to approach me, giving me a high-five, before moving to kiss his boyfriend. Jordan does the same; greeting me with a warm smile and moving off to Maia. Sebastian avoids me like the plague - rightfully so, and Jace goes to pull me into a tight, sweaty hug. I go rigid in his arms, trying to wiggle out of his grasp.

"Oh come on Clary, I thought after yesterday we were past the whole 'no physical contact' rule." Jace says teasingly into my ear, low enough so only I can hear. I would like to say that our interaction from yesterday has brought us relatively close, but I don't know to what extent I trust Jace. Rather than hugging him back, I just relax against him, "Baby steps," Jace pulls away from me, "I'll take it."

"You smell," is all I muster as a response. Before our interaction can get any further, my phone rings, indicating a call from my mother. My eyebrows knit in confusion as I lift the phone to my ear, my mom never calls me.

"Clary," her voice is stern and serious on the other line, my heart thumps against my ribs, "Yes?"

"I need you to get home now," she starts, "We have something to handle." Her cryptic tone sets off alarms in my brain, my body going into slight panic mode.

"I rode here with a friend, can you come get me?" I ask quietly, walking away from my friends so they don't overhear, "No, find a ride home." I hear glass shattering in the background, followed by muffled arguing; my body feels cold, "Get home soon." She hangs up and I purse my lips together, maybe I should just call a taxi.

"Clary, is everything ok?" Isabelle calls to me; I fight the urge to tell her the truth, "Are any of you able to take me home? My mom said she needs me there now." My hand is gripping my phone tightly as anxiety floods my body, "I can take you." Jace tells me, coming to my side, "Don't you have the after party with the team?" Alec asks him, and he shrugs, "It's alright; I'll miss out this once. Can you get my things and bring them home with you." He asks Alec, who nods, "Ok, ready?" Jace looks at me, and I nod at him gratefully.

"Bye." I give my friends a weak wave; allowing Jace to guide me with a hand on my forearm towards the parking lot, "Is everything ok?" He asks me once we get out earshot from the others.

"My mom just called me demanding I come home." My heart is still thumping in my chest; my mom never calls me.

"Is that not normal?" He questions, "No. My mom doesn't care what I'm doing, the only reason she would call me is if something is wrong." It is evident in my voice that I am flustered.

"Don't freak out yet," Jace tells me softly as we reach his bike, "You might just be over thinking it." He climbs on, handing me his helmet. I accept it, pulling it on before stepping on the bike behind him. I feel odd wrapping my arms around him, but my mind is too busy to care.

I press my face into Jace's football jersey as he drives off down the road; using him to block the wind. He drives quickly, weaving in and out of traffic, trying to get me home as quickly as possible, "I can feel your heart beating." Jace yells back to me over his shoulder as we pull up to a stop light near my neighborhood.

"I'm sorry." I say, embarrassed that he can tell how nervous I am, "We are almost at your house, and you need to calm down."

When we arrive at my house, I yank Jace's helmet off, shoving it towards him and running towards my home. I hear Jace cut off his bike and come running after me. I reach my front door, shoving it open with a loud thump, "Mom." I call out, walking into the living room, "I'm home." I say cautiously. Jace follows me into the house, closing the door behind him.

"In the kitchen." Her voice waivers like she has been crying. Even though she is a complete basket case, she rarely cries. This peaks my interest as I hurry to the kitchen, my hands still clenched and my heart still thumping.

When I turn the corner to my kitchen and spot the person standing beside my mother, my blood runs cold, and my anxiety turns into anger very quickly. I scoff at myself for my out of place reaction, before throwing a wild left hook at a silver-blond head.