CHAPTER 4
Shadowhunter Academy. Clary's first day.
Her mind was whirling.
And a bony shoulder was slamming into hers, causing her to stumble forward into her brother, who caught her biceps before she could pancake against his chest.
"OW- Hey, watch where you're-" the guy began, whipping around to glare at Clary.
She instantly recognized him as the hispanic-looking one from the courtyard yesterday, and the entire world decided in that moment to come to an immediate stop.
He was cut off short when Jonathan looked over his shoulder to presumably meet the boy's gaze.
The surprise and regret that blossomed on his face had her wishing she could see her brother's expression. If she wanted results like that, she needed to copy it.
"Jonathan," the boy breathed, looking at her brother as if he had just appeared out of nowhere. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bump your sister like that." His tone had that I just got caught with my hand in the cookie jar ring to it, as he stared, wide-eyed, at Jonathan. He sounded just like a child defending himself to his parents so he wouldn't get grounded.
It was slightly unnerving.
Still holding onto her, Jonathan made no effort to move an inch.
Clary's own muscles tensed. She found that her lungs suddenly forgot how to function.
With an expression she still couldn't see, Jonathan replied, in the most musical of tones, "Oh, I'm sure you didn't." His words were frozen honey, slowly dripping from his lips. Even his tone was icy-hot, but his hands on her were perfectly neutral. She kept looking from the boy's concerned expression to the back of her brother's head, wondering if that was tension that seemed to be building in the air.
When neither boy said anything for a (strangely) prolonged amount of time, Clary thought (unwillingly) that she was going to have to.
But then the other boy gave a nervous, twitchy smile, and nodded his head. Just once.
His chocolate-brown eyes met Clary's, looking strained. "I'm sorry, Clarissa. I didn't mean to hurt you."
Hurt?
Well, that was certainly a . . . stretch. More like mildly inconvenienced. And made extremely uncomfortable.
Her smile was probably just as awkward as his. "It's fine," she assured, wondering why it felt like a lie. Lies seemed to be piling on her lips in an astonishing quantity these days.
The nervousness in his face relaxed a little, but he still looked as if half a weight resided on his shoulders.
"Ah," he breathed, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. "Thank goodness." A chuckle that almost sounded like a mistake escaped his lips. "Well, I'll catch you guys around, then." Was it just her, or was there a slight tremble to his voice that hadn't been there before? His smile didn't even reach his eyes as he turned and walked, rather stiffly, Clary thought, away.
Jonathan's smile when he looked back at her, however, was dazzling.
"Sorry about that," he apologized, shaking his fair head and meeting her gaze with one filled with warmth. "It appears I'm going to have to retrain this lot to behave." He looked around then, at the slowly thinning hallway, as students scurried on by, attempting to beat the bell. "My influence has clearly worn off." His voice was playful.
"Your influence?" she inquired, raising a single brow. Or at least, she hoped it was a single brow. She'd never been very good at that.
His smile broadened.
He cupped her face between his soft hands before she could protest, or even consider if she wanted to. "Yes, dear sister. It is quite vast." Then his brows furrowed, and a slight pout tugged at his lips. "Though waning, it seems." He shook his head slightly. "I must remedy this situation immediately." Now he sounded serious.
His expression genuinely could have made her laugh, under less morbid circumstances. Under current circumstances, however, her lips just twitched with an oncoming smile. "I think you just gave that guy a lethal dose."
Jonathan looked smug. "I hope so," he sighed, eyes sleepily half-lidded. "Because that was about all I had for today."
This time, she did actually laugh. Or, what could have, in a very particular and niche light, passed for it. And it felt nice, albeit short.
Jonathan looked at her like he just discovered gold, and she realized this was probably the first time he was seeing her express any sort of positive emotion.
Damn.
Her life still sucked, was all that told her.
Her brother sighed again, heavier this time. His warm palms fell away from her cheeks, and she felt the absence of them more than she thought she should. "I should probably get to my own class before I'm late." He sounded as if someone had just been told him play-time was over, resigned in a way that was palpable.
Clary's mood plummeted with his hands as reality took that moment to finally set in.
How was she going to survive without him for four whole hours?
Also, what kind of demented school had single class periods that were four hours long? She was pretty sure that could be classified as child abuse or something.
Not to mention the fact that she knew, approximately, let's see . . . zero people in this entire building. She'd never been the 'new kid' before. She'd gone to the same school district her entire life, and grown up with those same kids her entire life. Which, granted, wasn't very long, but still.
Everything was new, foreign, and unpredictable. So needless to say, she was positively dreading this Jonathan-less period of time.
Clearly, she benefited greatly from his presence, and would probably suffer in the lack thereof.
She must have been pouting, because his expression softened in that please-don't-give-me-those-puppy-dog-eyes sort of way.
Double damn. So he was immune, just like her mother.
My mother.
Clary's stomach twisted.
Jonathan smiled, close-lipped, taking her hands in his. "I know it's a little impossible," he began softly, "but try not to worry so much. Nobody here is out to get you. And if they are, all you have to do is tell me first, and I'll take care of it."
She wanted to ask what exactly he meant by take care of it, but he was also so inexplicably comforting, and she was in such a massive drought of that particular peace, and she didn't want to ruin the moment, and, and, and-
She just looked up at him and nodded. His smile broadened, and he gave her cheek one final pat of encouragement. "I'll come right back here as soon as this period's over, so just wait for me, okay?"
"Okay," she agreed immediately, trying not to feel like a child.
"Oh, and," he added, as an afterthought. "One more thing. It's definitely impossible, but just try not to fall asleep. Silverwood is notorious for whipping out the paddle."
Clary felt her face mortify.
Jonathan's eyes sparkled, as if he had just stumbled upon a great delight. "Good luck," he whispered, leaving her with a wink and a mischievous grin before turning and disappearing down an adjacent, cavernous hallway.
Clary had to refrain from planting her head in the wall.
Instead, she just shook it incredulously, curls tickling her pouting cheeks.
Boys, was all her mind could come up with.
Making no effort to hide the fact that she was dragging her feet, she forced herself to enter Professor Silverwood's Religious History Class.
Okay, she was sorry and all, but when your class's title was as sleep-inducing as that, it was no wonder her brother had given her the warning that he had. How could anyone have a single iota of interest in the topic of religious history? She didn't even believe in God, and was, in fact, almost positive that it was illegal to push religion on students in public school.
But, of course, this school was far from public. She'd already figured out that much. Regardless, pretending to care about this class was going to deserve its own performance award.
When she entered, it was to Clary's surprise that the room was huge, and resembled more of a library than a simply squared classroom. Which was magical. It hadn't appeared this large from the outside.
Towering bookshelves lined every inch of wall space, overflowing with books in every stage of mint condition to practically falling apart. There was no natural light; instead, chandeliers dangled precariously from the intricately decorated arched ceiling, spilling a comfortable golden-glow over every sleek surface. It was more full than any class Clary had ever attended, even in overpopulated New York. There must have been at least fifty kids teeming about, caught up in the bustle of school life.
No one noticed her enter. Everyone seemed either engrossed in conversation, or filling out what could be the assignment that was most likely due today, considering the vehemency with which they were scribbling.
With her head down, she quietly walked to the back of the room where there were a few empty couches spotted with equally lonely 'desks.'
It was quite the comfortable-looking setup, to her greater surprise. Perhaps that was why Jonathan had warned her not to fall asleep - the ambiance seemed to demand it.
Belatedly, Clary realized she wasn't alone in this little alcove. There was a girl sitting back here, looking like a studious vampire with her short, silky black hair against navy blue uniform, a twin to Clary's, to every student's. Her head snapped up when Clary approached, their eyes locking.
She was startlingly pretty.
Before any other thought, Clary remarked how she would have loved to draw that face, elegant and Asian.
After that thought, jealousy reared in and stole the breath from her lungs, forcing her to look away as she now, unwillingly, took the empty seat next to the girl. Compared to her, Clary was sure she looked about twelve.
She bet blond boy would think this girl was attractive, because he clearly had thought Clary was nothing more than a nuisance yesterday.
Wait.
Why was she thinking about him?
Clary shook her head violently, attempting to dispel the images of him looking at her.
She didn't even know the guy, so why was he such a dominating force in her mind? He just kept popping up against her will, and she felt as if she were playing whack-a-mole with the images, hammering them down every time they appeared. Only, they never stopped appearing, and her arms were getting tired.
A muffled giggle lilted into Clary's eardrums.
She looked over to find the Asian girl staring at her, one hand hovering over her mouth. "This class that bad?"
Clary felt her brows furrow.
"What?" she asked stupidly.
The girl giggled again. "It's just the look on your face. Is this class really that bad?"
Clary blinked. She wondered what sort of expression her face was making to warrant such a comment. Probably something along the lines of miserable, if she had to guess.
"Oh . . . uh . . ."
Oh, for the love of God, must she always be so stiff? She forcefully shoved all thoughts of jealousy and beautiful blond boys out of her skull, making room for the current situation at hand. "Honestly," she sighed, feeling exhausted from her internal turmoil already, "I couldn't tell you. This is my first day here."
The girl cocked her head to the side and raised a single black brow. "You too, huh?"
Clary just looked at her.
Was she being mocked? "Me too, what?"
The girl's smile deepened. It matured her features, which had Clary's muscles twitching, for some reason. "It's my first day here, too. I just transferred in this morning."
Clary physically felt her heart skip several beats.
She blinked. Rapidly.
No.
No way.
No way, no way, no way.
No way it was that easy.
The telltale command of a deeply unnerving voice rung the bell of Clary's memory.
There's going to be another student transferring in today.
Her lips parted. No sound came out.
Befriend them.
Words started bubbling up to her constricted throat.
I shall be awaiting for your reports on the matter later this evening.
"Is there something on my face?" the girl asked, eyeing Clary.
"What?" she blurted.
The girl's tone sharpened. "You're looking at me like there is."
Then her eyes bulged, as if Clary had just told her that a frog was resting atop her brow-bone. "Oh, crap, is my mascara smudging?" She immediately bent down to pull a compact mirror from a pristine and expensive-looking leather bag, flipping it open to inspect the nonexistent damage. "I'm not used to the air around here. I knew I should have packed a different tube." She began dabbing the corners of her eyes with delicate and pale fingers.
"What?" Clary asked, genuinely bewildered. "No - no, there's nothing on your face," she stammered. "I-"
The girl looked back over at her out of the corners of her slit eyes. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," she breathed, trying to find some sense of relief. "I'm sure. I'm sorry. I'm just . . . surprised," she amended, trying (and most likely failing) to remedy her recent lack of social skills. The two hadn't even exchanged names and already Clary was blowing her 'cover.'
Why had her father burdened her with such a task? Going 'undercover' wasn't necessarily her strong suit - probably because she didn't know how.
The girl's eyes briefly drifted around the room before returning to Clary's. "So, what, then, have you never seen an asian before? I know we're not exactly the dominating race around here, but-"
"God - what? - no, it's not that," Clary interrupted, flippantly grasping for strings. "I'm - I just . . ." Think, think, think. C'mon, Fray, for just two seconds of your life, stop being a bumbling idiot. Her head seemed to be shaking of its own accord. She said, "I . . . was scared. To be the 'new girl' around here. So I guess I'm just . . . happy. That I'm not alone."
Clary almost laughed at loud.
You'd have to be blind and deaf to believe those words, she thought. Because even as the crafter of the lie, she certainly didn't.
When the girl just looked at her, Clary felt all of the heat seep from her limbs and pool into her face.
After a few beats of silence, she added, "You know?" hoping that would alleviate the awkwardness she just dumped all over the conversation. If you could call it that.
The girl blinked.
Clary blinked back.
He's going to kill me, she thought morbidly. Valentine is so going to kill me-
The girl's face erupted into a beaming smile, showing off her perfect pearly whites. "Ohmygosh, I am so happy you just said that!" She bounced in her chair, unable to contain her seemingly newfound excitement.
Clary's eyes flicked back and forth. Confusion dawned on her face. "You . . . are?"
The girl leaned towards Clary, practically falling out of her chair, so close that Clary actually leaned back an inch. "Yes! I've never been, like, the new girl, you know? So I was so worried because I heard this place is pretty clique-y, so I knew everyone would already have all their own friends and I was thinking, well, maybe I won't be the only one, and, ta-da! I was right! Because here you are, and you seem just as nervous as me - not that that's an insult or anything, because it's definitely not, but, you know, it's only to be expected, really, because, well, yeah, either everybody hates the new girl, or wants to make a spectacle out of them - at least, that's what I've heard, anyways, because, like, I wouldn't know, as I said, but that just means that you have no friends and I have no friends so, maybe, we could, like, be each other's friend!"
Clary felt winded.
She wasn't even the one talking, but it suddenly felt like all of the breath had fled her lungs.
The girl cocked her head again, the action reminding Clary of a pigeon. Her were eyes bright, expectant. "You know?" she finished.
Clary swallowed.
What the hell?
Befriend them.
Swallowing again, this time her hesitance, Clary started forcing words out before another awkward silence could capture the moment.
"Yes," she said. "Yes!" With more excitement. "You just . . . you just spoke my mind." Liar, liar, pants on fire. "I would love to be your friend." She topped it off with a tentative smile, praying to God it didn't look as forced as it felt.
The girl clapped her hands together, jolting Clary's body. "Terrific!" She then grabbed Clary's, drawing their clasped hands in between them both. "That's wonderful. Yay!"
Excitement and happiness must have been in this girl's second nature. (Judgement was clearly in her first.) Otherwise, Clary had a hard time believing that anyone would be so instantly stoked to be friends with someone such as herself. It wasn't like she was anything special. If anything, she figured her new aura would repel people, not draw them closer.
But, she had a job to do.
A job that she suspected would either land her inside of or completely away from her father's good graces, which she preferred to be in, considering the alternative was probably . . . not something she wanted to think about. So, with all of the preppy-girl energy she could muster, (not enough, not enough, not enough she feared) she leaned towards the girl, and let the facade take over.
"I'm Clarissa, but my friends call me Clary. And, since we're friends, you can just call me Clary." She presented her teeth this time when she smiled.
The girl followed suit. "Right. Nice to meet you, Clary," she enunciated, winking. "I'm Aline. But my friends . . . well, they can call me whatever they'd like." Her giggle made Clary wonder what kinds of nicknames this girl had accrued. She chose not to press, but instead create a mental folder titled Aline and start filing away all information she gathered hereafter inside of it.
"Good to know." Clary winked back, but it felt spectacularly uncomfortable, even to her. She pressed on. "So, Aline, where are you from?"
That was probably a smart question to ask, right?
Aline retreated her hands then and folded them in her own lap, all the while not breaking eye contact, the smile still on her face. "Paris."
"Paris?" Clary asked, now genuinely intrigued. She was surprised to find she didn't need to force her next words out. They flung to her throat the way they had dozens of times before. "I've always dreamed of going to Paris." She even laughed, a memory budding. "I always use to beg my mom to-"
She inhaled so sharply she almost choked.
Aline looked at her in forming concern.
When Clary didn't continue, the girl asked, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
I used to beg my mom to take me every year. She told me that for my graduation present, we could go. Simon could even come if he wanted to. Of course he wanted to.
Clary's whole chest tightened.
Why, oh why, had her brain had to conjure up the thought of her mother right now? That was the most antagonistic thing it could have been doing to her. And not just her mother, but Simon, too, who she'd been ashamedly neglecting to think about on the occasion of spontaneous and traumatizing familial death.
"Clary?" asked Aline.
"Yes," she lied. "I'm fine. I'm sorry." She chuckled, but it was all breathy, all discomfort. "I just . . . " miss my mom more than any words could possibly begin to describe, and I'm dying, I think I'm physically dying on the inside, can't anyone see that? "Have always really wanted to go," she finished lamely, defeated by her own uncontrollable train of thought.
Aline was looking at her with all of the patience and understanding of a bonafied therapist. She perked up then, realizing Clary was done, her dark eyes widening, brightening.
"Well, we can fix that!"
Clary thought fix was an odd word for it, but all she said was, "We can?"
"Yeah!" Aline laughed, completely carefree. "That's simple, silly. I could take you with me this weekend, if you really want to go."
. . .
Um . . . what?
Clary wasn't sure whether to feel like the luckiest person ever, or like this girl was possibly the biggest creep she'd ever met.
She'd never met someone brazen enough to just invite her on a magical trip to a foreign country after only knowing her for five minutes. Which was most likely due to the fact that that was an incredibly weird thing to do.
Clary just shook her head. "You know, it's cruel to play with people's emotions like that," she said, more sincerely than she wanted to, than the conversation warranted.
"What?" Aline looked like her emotions had just spilled onto the floor. "No - seriously, Clary. I'm actually inviting you to go with me this weekend."
Clary blinked. "You are?"
"Um, yes." Aline laughed again, shaking her head. Her short hair danced with the movement. "My cousin and I need to pick up a few things that we forgot, so we were already planning on going back this weekend anyways. And the plane ride is only like an hour, if even. It would be so fun!" She clasped her hands, holding them in front of her chest as if making a wish. "Please, won't you come?" Her eyes were pleading. "Sebastian is so boring, I swear. It's like hanging out with a gas station toilet, except the toilet would actually have more interesting things to say than him."
"Oh," Clary replied, mildly disgusted. "Sounds . . . interesting." Though she imagined that talking to herself probably wasn't much different.
Aline leaned forward in her chair, almost spilling out of it. "So? You wanna go with me?"
The girl was looking at her with such hopeful, pleading intensity. Clary found the word no was suddenly absent from her vocabulary.
Though she was positive it was all too present in her father's.
There wasn't a single chance in Hell Valentine would actually agree to this. It had been a battle just letting her come here, a thirty minute walk from his intimidating residence. No amount of hopeful-eyed girls was going to change his nature, she imagined.
But even so, Aline didn't know that, and Clary didn't want to shatter the girl's dreams right now. She could shatter them tomorrow, after her father did the same to her, and her feelings were still fresh and raw, and she wasn't lying through her teeth when she told the girl "Sorry, my father said absolutely the hell not."
Clary swallowed the rest of the hesitation in her mouth and met Aline's eyes.
"Okay."
Aline froze.
She didn't say anything for a moment, just stared at Clary. Which made her want to squirm.
Then, "Wait, really?" As if she hadn't thought her performance had gotten her anywhere.
Knowing it was a lie, she said, "Yes, really. You're right, that does sound fun. Why not?" Um, because of your horribly overprotective, he-who-must-not-be-named, controlling kind of father. But let's not mention that. "I'll ask my dad," she said, hoping the wobbly way dad came out of her mouth didn't give away her flowering animosity towards him, "tonight." She tried smiling. It may or may not have worked.
Aline beamed, that grin growing impossibly wider.
"Ohmygosh, yay! I can't believe you said yes!" She squealed, fracturing Clary's eardrums. "I'm so excited! Ohmygosh, this is going to be so much fun. We can go to the Eiffel Tower, The Louvre - and there's a gazillion cafes that I'll show you - do you like coffee? There's absolutely nothing like a good french cappuccino, let me tell you-"
A throat cleared, loud enough that it was obvious it was meant to overpower Aline's million-miles-an-hour dialogue.
Clary and Aline looked up simultaneously to discover an old man as dusty as the books surrounding them. His face was rigid as he glared at the two girls, arms crossed over his broad chest, one wiry white eyebrow raised in question.
This, Clary guessed, was probably the one-and-only Professor Notorious-for-Whipping-Out-the-Paddle Silverwood.
And this, what was about to happen next, was probably him demanding that they both shut their blabbering cake holes before he whipped out said paddle.
"Oh?" he inquired in the ensuing silence. His voice was as gravelly as the alley behind Clary's old apartment. "By all means, don't let me stop you ladies from having such an invigorating conversation. It's not as if I have a class to teach."
A muffled laugh had Clary looking past him to realize that almost every single person in this room was staring at them, backs practically breaking to twist around in their seats and get a view of the new class clowns. Most were smiling and failing to hide it, while others weren't trying at all, blatantly snickering.
Clary gulped, thoroughly embarrassed.
Aline's head dropped, her face hidden under the curtain of her raven-black hair.
How about I just never speak again? Clary thought.
XXX
Tonight, Jace thought, lounging against an iron pillar supporting the balcony of the courtyard and staring up at the always-beautiful, deep-blue sky. No clouds marred its perfection, and the sun baked the atmosphere to a delicious warmth. I think I'll just kill myself tonight, and that'll solve everything.
He smiled, blissful in his delusional solitude.
"What the hell?" piped Isabelle's voice, sounding appalled.
The precious bliss of Jace's solitude popped like a blister, every drop of joy slowly seeping out.
"I don't even want to know what you're thinking about right now."
Jace closed his eyes, imagining that if he just couldn't see her, she wasn't really there.
"You know, closing your eyes doesn't make me go away, douche-hole."
Jesus. Why, oh why had God cursed him with such a sister? It was unfair, truly.
"And stop wishing you hadn't gotten stuck with me, because your butt would be toast by now if it weren't for mine."
"Good Lord, woman, can you read minds?" Jace finally asked, eyes popping open in astonishment.
Isabelle kicked his shin as he unfurled himself from his position to face her, begrudgingly accepting the moment as ruined.
"No, but I do have those things called eyes, and your little feelings are written all over your face."
Jace crossed his arms over his chest and bent down to meet her at eye-level. "So stop looking," he jibed, smiling at her in that superior way he knew she hated.
To the surprise of absolutely no one, she slapped him across the face.
Jace was - he didn't even know.
"Lady- hey, watch the goods, okay?" he demanded, straightening his spine to point furiously at his face. "It's still healing from yesterday, when everyone and their mother - literally," he accused, looking right at Isabelle, "decided to turn it into their personal punching bag. Is a little delicacy too much to ask for?"
Isabelle just stared at him blankly, unblinking, unresponsive.
Jace huffed.
She cocked her head to the side. "You want to know what I have to say to that?"
"Not really," he admitted.
Isabelle slapped him. Again.
"Do your ears not work-" Jace began, rife for murder.
"Hey! Jace! Izzy!" Alec called.
Jace and Isabelle froze in their descent upon one another to look over, revealing their brother emerging from a throng of starving bodies. His hair was windblown, as if he'd been through a storm, and an expression somewhere between excited-impatience and concern was plastered on his face as he awkwardly jogged over to them.
Only Alec, Jace found himself thinking yet again, could look like that.
He was out of breath by the time he reached them. "Hey, what did I miss?" he asked, panting. There was even a withering attempt to stand upright without clutching his knees involved. Cute.
"Well, Alec, if you must know," he said casually. "I was thinking that I should kill our sister, and then myself."
Alec, in response, looked horrified.
"You're welcome to kill yourself too, if you wish," he went on. "We could all do it together, like one big miserable family."
His brother's eyes shot to Isabelle, worry engraving his unlined face.
Isabelle rolled her smoky, way-too-glittery eyes. "He's being over dramatic."
Jace's jaw dropped open. He looked away, crossing his arms again, far more petulantly this time. "This family has no respect for me."
Alec, looking more confused by the second, shook his head. "You know what?" He breathed in deeply. "I don't even want to know."
"That's what I said," Isabelle grumbled.
"Right. Well. If the Jace-Hating part of the afternoon is over, I think I'm going to go eat my feelings now," Jace announced, intentionally bumping his siblings shoulders as he shoved past them. They each grunted in annoyed response.
Despite his jibes, Jace wasn't particularly in the mood for friendly banter.
Feel free to go ahead and mark that on your calendar, ladies and gents, because that, was positively a first.
But alas. His mind was occupied with other annoyances; the largest of which including a brand-new student with the personality of a child, and the demeanor of a villain.
Jace was only slightly ashamed to admit that after his fight with Sebastian, all he had wanted to do was stand up and walk straight out of that training room - and that the only reason he hadn't, was because he didn't want the, as Isabelle would so generously put it, douche-hole to think that he had actually struck a nerve.
Which he totally, one-hundred percent, without the shadow of a doubt, had.
Jace, as it turned out, was still a sore loser.
Still.
Of course, everything was made worse by the fact that he had even more unresolved issues to tackle. With unresolved definitely being the most appropriate label for it.
Even so, after spending four hours with a guy who spoke little more than nonsense, Jace's brain was melted, the steam clouding up his mind. He wasn't really thinking clearly at the moment, and in a drugged-sort-of way, he kind of liked that. He wanted to float in this delirious state a little longer, ignoring the pressing demands of the outside world. And the degrading comments of his brother and sister.
"Jace, wait!" Alec shouted, his footsteps growing louder as he approached. Jace didn't bother to slow his stride, which Alec undoubtedly noticed, considering his huff of annoyance when he caught up with him.
"What's going on with you?" his brother asked seriously. "Are you really still upset about that thing with Sebas-"
Jace halted so abruptly and turned so sharply that the movement could have cut marble. Alec stopped too. Jace braced forward, sucking in a breath as he balled his fists to muster some severely-lacking patience. "Alec-"
A feminine laugh bubbled loudly into the atmosphere, cutting him off. His head whipped toward the noise, almost unintentionally.
"Ohmygosh," it gushed, before his eyes honed in on its origin. "Did you hear when he was like, 'Statues that refuse to be shaped remain nothing but blank, purposeless slabs!'" the girl imitated, though, judging by her performance, not very well. She burst into more obnoxious laughter then, the noise drowning out everything but his vision.
His vision, that was now in purview of the girl walking next to her, their arms entwined.
The girl with bright red hair and an apparent knack for finding herself in compromising situations. The girl he had seen for the very first time only yesterday. And very, very, very briefly, met.
Clarissa.
Jace sucked in a breath.
She was smiling, clearly amused. But her head was bent down, as if she didn't want anyone to see the amusement. She was walking almost in the shadow of the other girl, who Jace was just now concluding he'd never seen before. All he knew was that she had short, jet-black hair and a boisterous personality that he didn't think he'd be able to handle for very long, if ever forced to.
Hopefully he was never forced to.
But the parade was over too soon, as they walked right on by, heading in the direction of the cafeteria. Neither of them even glanced in Jace and Alec's direction, as if they were little more than part of the meaningless background.
Isabelle's voice once again shoved him back into reality. "Why don't you just go up and talk to her? It would be less creepy."
Jace had to take an actual moment to gather himself. Then he turned towards her, arriving at the unfortunate realization that he had craned his neck severely just to watch the girls walk away. Definitely not creepy at all. "I wasn't trying to be creepy."
Isabelle barked out a sad laugh. "Then that's even worse."
Jace shook his head, a defensive retort on the rise.
"Couldn't be worse than the absolutely remarkable display of inadequacy that Jace decided to show us this morning."
Jace's body tightened on instinct, every muscle roping with unusually high tension.
It wasn't even just the fact that it was Meliorn, opening his mouth to spew more stupidity at him.
No.
It was more of a certain . . . impatience with everything.
With the day so far. With the week so far.
With his life so far.
And the fact that certain people kept bringing that up.
Jace turned towards and faced Meliorn with an expression more tight and unimpressed than he thought he truly had the energy to feel. "Approaching me without your sidekick?" he inquired aloud, sounding bored. "Color me impressed."
Meliorn smirked, the expression transforming his face from awful to turbo-awful. "Ho-ho. Well well, would you look. At. That. Someone's feeling a little cocky after their pitiful defeat."
"Oh, for the love of God, Meliorn," Isabelle cut in irritably. "Could you please get over my brother? Your obsession is starting to impose on the rest of us."
"Brother," Meliorn spat, surprising Jace with his sudden savageness. If it was possible, his body tensed up even tighter. "You keep calling him that, but he's not really your brother, is he?" Even the boy's stance had become more relaxed somehow; more languid. As if the more he pushed, the more comfortable he felt, watching them all squirm underneath the discomfort of his ridiculous taunts.
"Does a bear shit in the woods?" Isabelle, as usual, was undeterred. But something in Meliorn's tone had Jace's muscles coiling further. Or maybe it was everything.
Meliorn's voice darkened. "You just proved my point."
"And you're missing the point," she shot back. "Does it look like I give a shit about your crappy opinion? Hm?"
Why was Jace's heart beating so fast?
"It looks like you and your 'brother' enjoy fondling each other when no one's looking."
Jace's intestines viciously twisted in on themselves.
Isabelle. Sweet and sour, adoring Isabelle. She was possibly the loveliest girl Jace had ever laid eyes on.
But the thought of so much as embracing her romantically made him want to upchuck the nonexistent contents of his grumbling stomach.
Isabelle, he already knew, felt similarly, and was most likely experiencing the same rush of disgust, as represented by the look of repulsion on her face.
"Do- do you even have any brain cells inside that dark head of yours?" she stammered uncharacteristically. "Is that some kind of fantasy you have or something? Because it's just plain gross. Like you."
Meliorn just laughed aloud, but the sound was lacking any and all true-sounding elation. "Is it a fantasy of yours?"
"Meliorn," Jace addressed him, more done than one human being could possibly be with another. He had to speak slowly, to keep his body from exploding into unplanned yet desired action. "I'm going to give you approximately five seconds to walk away before this turns in a different direction." Which was kinder than the asshole deserved. Kinder than Jace should have been being.
He just really, really, really did not want to do this right now.
"Yeah? You mean before you get your ass handed to you again on a golden saucer-"
Jace already had the collar of the other boy's uniform in his grasp, their faces now inches apart. Close enough that Jace could smell Meliorn's putrid breath, and realize that the faint scent of alcohol lingered on it.
Well, that certainly explained a lot.
But not enough.
Meliorn, now compromised, grinned deeper, lazily throwing his hands up in mock surrender.
Jace, now beyond pissed off, shook him for it, finding that perhaps he did want to do this, after all.
"Time's up," Jace whispered, lips curled back, in a voice so low only Meliorn would be able to hear. "Now tell me what the hell your problem is before I decide to put you on the menu."
Meliorn managed to breathe out a few chuckles that only grated against Jace's nerves. "By the look on your face earlier, I would have assumed you were harboring a craving for redhead."
Jace's body hitched. The sudden introduction of Clarissa in this conversation had ice crystallizing over the fire in his blood.
And Meliorn? He just looked like that's exactly what he'd been counting on. "Or perhaps you're just looking for some head in general," he sneered at Jace. "We all know you can't survive even ten minutes without-"
Jace was glad he didn't have to hear Meliorn finish.
He was even more glad with the sensation of pain enveloping his knuckles after having used them to acquaint the boy with the grass beneath their feet.
Jace processed little more than Isabelle's gasp of shock before he was on top of Meliorn, crushing the boy's collar in his right hand, and repeatedly punching him in the face with his left.
Someone shrieked.
Punch, reset.
Punch, reset.
The movements felt robotic, yet simultaneously, uncontrollable. It felt as if his whole world had boiled down to one point; this one, obnoxiously idiotic point.
Punch, reset. Punch, reset.
Blood bloomed from multiple tears in both of their skin, smearing Jace's hand and Meliorn's face. Jace didn't feel the need to pay that much mind.
The only thing he felt the need to pay was Meliorn back for what he did to him yesterday.
For what he would've done to him this morning.
For what he had just been doing to him.
Tenfold.
Punch, reset. Punch, reset. Punch, reset.
As if he'd done this a thousand times.
As if he'd never done it.
Punch, reset. Punch, reset-
He thought he heard a gasp. Or perhaps it was a gurgle. Perhaps it was nothing at all. Perhaps the world was ending and Meliorn's life was ending and perhaps that was a good thing for everyone-
Punch, reset, punch, reset, punch, punch, punch, punch, punch-
A strange noise slithered into Jace's eardrums, penetrating the encompassing silence of this altercation.
Which was strange, came the thought from the back of his head. Usually there was more commotion than this. A little more involvement from the always-gathered audience. A little more gusto.
It was then that Jace's brain finally registered the sound as something comprehensible.
"Jace. Jace - Jace," Alec's voice was frantically repeating, like a broken record. Jace looked over.
Alec knelt down beside him, looking like a travesty had just struck, like the world really had ended, and it was only when Jace saw his brothers hand on his shoulder that he realized he felt it, too.
The pressure of a tidal-wave crashed over him.
He felt like he was struggling for air, overwhelmed by that mighty weight, thrown left and right and up and down and completely into darkness-
And then it receded, just as swiftly as it had come, thrusting Jace above water he felt like he'd been drowning in for years.
Jace blinked. Several times.
Slowly, he looked around.
The courtyard was silent.
Probably because everyone present was staring at him, all with varying degrees of what he could only describe as horror mixed with distaste. A complete contrast to the usually-amused masks students slipped on when someone decided to bravely switch up the Academy's monotonous routine. An academy that Jace had spent so much of his life in, he could basically call it home.
Now, however, all of these familiar faces were staring at Jace as if he were a stranger. An intruder on their promised peace.
Not a friendly face they could entrust with the task of keeping them entertained. Of keeping them safe.
Sickness roiled in his gut, threatening to win him over.
Jace practically flung himself off of Meliorn in his haste to distance himself from the sudden feeling strangling him like a viper.
He stumbled back, nearly drunk with the realization of what he'd done. Meliorn lay, sprawled on the ground, his head slowly rocking from side to side. He was barely conscious, blood painting the scene like a crime. Even Isabelle stared on in wide-eyed astonishment, providing further evidence of Jace's villainy.
Across the yard, facing Jace directly, he now saw, stood Clarissa. Still linked with her concert-speaker of a companion.
Even from this distance, she managed to catch his eye.
Even from this distance, he managed to catch the dismay, the fright, of her expression. Clear as this spectacularly fine day.
Shame.
It was a hot, boiling soup, rapidly metastasizing in the pit of his stomach.
I - I - I can't-
Jace was sure he was going to feel the shame of this later, but he didn't care. It couldn't be worse than the deadly dose of it he had just injected.
Jace turned on his heel and bee-lined straight for the nearest hallway exit.
He refused eye contact, with anyone, laser-focused on the singular goal of simply disappearing. The once pleasant warmth of the sun now felt only scorching, burning him alive at his own self-made stake. It actually made him appreciate the wintry chill of the Academy's glacial hallways.
If only it were cold enough to freeze him solid, incapacitating his body completely, so he couldn't continue to make more reckless, barely-thought-out decisions.
More shame-inducing, pride-shattering decisions.
I have to get out of here.
At some point, he probably did hear the frantic rush of footsteps behind him. The shout or two of his name.
But he was already halfway to the Academy's front gates by the time that sorry soul even made it to building's exit.
XXX
Clary stared at the mouth of the hallway, visible from her position in the courtyard.
Students gathered around it, curiously and cautiously peering down its shadowy length as if the boy who had just disappeared right through it would be spat back out, too vicious for even the darkness to handle. Even Aline was silent, unable to transform the leftovers of what just occurred into a laughable joke.
Clary's heart was pounding. She didn't even realize how badly until a voice startled her back into the present, increasing the organ's tempo even more, until it beat against her chest like a pair of panicked wings.
"Whoa. What'd we miss?" it asked in wonder.
Clary only had half a mind to recognize it as unfamiliar. She probably wouldn't have even thought it was addressing her, if Aline didn't turn-towards and promptly-reply to it.
"I have no, freaking, clue," she stamped out. "All I know is, that guy has some serious anger issues."
Clary looked over to see who Aline was talking to, and found her brother standing there, startling her further.
His eyes were fixed on the location Clary had just torn her own gaze from, a look she couldn't name fixing his features into intense concentration. She had no idea how much he'd witnessed, if any of it.
Clary certainly wished she hadn't.
Next to him was the stranger in question. A boy as tall as Jonathan, but with hair as dark as Aline's. Standing next to her brother like that, they created the picture-perfect portrait of yin and yang, she thought strangely.
In turn, he looked at her, too.
Their eyes locked, black on green.
Then he smiled. A warm, open smile, seemingly crafted just for her.
He's quite handsome, she thought startlingly.
"Why, hello there, beautiful," he said, in a voice that if she could have tasted, would have reminded her of sugar.
Her breath caught in her throat.
I think I'm going to have a heart attack, she found herself thinking, as the gallop of her heart thumped impossibly faster.
"Oh no you don't," Aline threatened, tightening her hold on Clary's arm. She stepped in front of her, partially blocking Clary from the boy's view. "I found her first. She's mine."
One of the boy's black eyebrows arched. His smile transformed into an incredulous grin as he held his hands up, surrendering to Aline's demands. "I was only introducing myself to the fair lady. No need to get so possessive, dear cousin."
Dear cousin.
In the back of Clary's head, Aline's voice complained: Sebastian is so boring. I swear, it's like hanging out with a gas station toilet, except the toilet would actually have more interesting things to say than him.
So this was him.
Sebastian.
Aline had clearly failed to mention the fact that Sebastian looked like a knight straight out of a fairytale, bathroom comments aside. With features that strong and charming, she doubted it mattered much what came out of his mouth, when most girls were probably too engrossed in simply staring at it.
Realizing too late that she was currently being one of those girls, another glaringly belated thought struck her, hard as lightning. It left her wondering how her slow little brain hadn't come up with it earlier.
There will be a new student transferring in today.
Befriend them.
Aline and Sebastian were cousins. Aline had said: My cousin and I need to pick up a few things that we forgot, so we were planning on going back this weekend anyways.
Clary hadn't even bothered to wonder whether her cousin had also just transferred in today; or, if he had previously been attending this academy already. But, thinking about it now, that didn't make any sense. If Sebastian had to go back with Aline to retrieve forgotten effects, then that would imply he had moved here along with her, and had therefore also just enrolled, making them both a 'new' student.
She wondered if her father knew that.
And she wondered, if he didn't, which student it was that he had intended for his children to single out and get to know. Or, if it simply didn't matter.
Though this was, of course, all based on the assumption that Sebastian was Aline's cousin, as the girl had never outright stated that fact. And, whether or not this person was truly him. Clary had just impatiently assumed.
Only one way to find out.
"Hi," Clary said, shyly. She smiled at the boy. Which was surprisingly not hard to do. "I'm Clary. It's nice to meet you. What's your name?" The amount of effort it took to space out each word and not just vomit it all in one breath was also surprising.
The boy looked at her triumphantly, as if he had just won some unknown battle. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Clary. I'm Sebastian. But you can call me tonight if you'd like."
Clary's breath hitched, yet again.
Aline scoffed before she could contemplate his words. "Here we go again. Were you even listening to me? She's mine. You can't have her."
But Clary wasn't really paying attention anymore. All she was thinking about was the fact that she had been right.
And now, she didn't know what to do.
"Need I inform you all that that is my sister you're talking about, thank you very much," Jonathan interrupted. He was no longer looking across the courtyard, where the gathered students had disbanded, no longer concerned with the boy who was obviously not coming back. Or perhaps they were, having gone off to gossip about the gruesome events that had just unfolded. Clary wouldn't know.
"Sister?" asked Aline. She turned to Clary. "You didn't mention you had a brother."
Clary felt cornered. "I-"
Okay, she didn't really have a good excuse for that. She guessed that was probably something you mentioned when getting to know someone, but then again, she'd never had to. She hadn't really had a brother until a couple of days ago. Also, bringing anything up about her personal life felt like a herculean task that she didn't even want to try and attempt right now.
"And you didn't mention that she was your sister," Sebastian accused, throwing a look at Jonathan. "I swear, if I'd have known, I still would have done it all exactly the same."
This seemed to amuse Jonathan, who shook his head at Sebastian. "Good to know," he said smoothly. "I'll keep that in mind the next time I suddenly acquire a sibling."
Sebastian looked put-off by that. "For your information, that attitude only extends toward women. I'm afraid you'll have to find someone else to court your brothers."
Jonathan laughed. The sound had Clary's nerves unexpectedly tingling.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the tangled mesh of bodies all flocking around the boy she had confronted in the courtyard yesterday. She had to crane her neck to get a better view.
The boy seemed to be unresponsive, with students poking and prodding his arms and legs in an attempt to wake him from his beaten slumber. She wouldn't be surprised if he was concussed, the way that blond boy had been laying into him.
Clearly, something was up between the two of them. Something unsettled and explosive in nature.
She wondered desperately what it was, and who was really in the right here. If either of them. She wondered why it seemed she kept running into the blond in the first place. She wondered a lot of things, actually. She had tried so hard to rid her mind of the thought of him, yet the universe threw those efforts back in her face by throwing him back in hers.
"Well what a happy coincidence that you two just so happened to manage and find each other," Aline mocked tartly.
"You could call it that," Jonathan replied, almost playfully. Which had Clary once again returning to the conversation. "Or, you could call it a problem of memory."
Clary threw her brother an odd look. A problem of whose memory?
The answer to that came all too late.
I'll come right back here as soon as this period's over, so just wait for me, okay?
Oh, shit.
"Oh my God," she gasped aloud. "I am so sorry."
She wanted to slap herself. It didn't matter that he'd told her that four whole hours ago; it should have been easy to remember, even in her mind-cluttered state. She didn't know what she was doing without him. "I completely-"
"And Aline," Sebastian interrupted, which - well, didn't feel too good, honestly- "Must have forgotten that we were supposed to meet with the Headmaster during lunch."
Aline's jaw dropped open. Hastily, she screwed it back shut. Were her cheeks reddening?
"Okay, I might have actually forgotten about that," she admitted, in a voice rising in pitch.
Sebastian rolled his midnight eyes, but somehow, he still made even such a petulant act appear princely. "Yes, well, that's when this sorry fellow-" He gestured toward Jonathan with a flick of his chin, "-and I ran into each other, realizing that both of our family members had seemingly left us in the dust. So, we came looking for you. And, well, would you look at that." Another smile had strings tugging at the corners of his lips. "Here you both are."
Goosebumps erupted over Clary's skin.
She had to fight the urge to shiver, though she wasn't even sure why. It wasn't exactly cold out here.
Aline, unconcerned with Sebastian's sob-story, just whined. "But, I wanted to talk to Clary about all of the things we were going to do this weekend!" she protested, stomping her feet like a child. Clary had to resist the urge to pull her arm away.
Sebastian just looked incredulous. "Planning a slumber party already?"
"No," Aline shot back. "Well, sort of. I invited her to go with us to Paris this weekend. Oh, yeah, by the way. I invited Clary to come with us to Paris this weekend."
Sebastian's face was suddenly blank. "Yes, I see that." His tone held no emotion, but it seemed to be carrying a lot of weight.
"Well, after telling her what a deplorable travel companion you are, she said she felt bad for me, and offered to keep me entertained. Isn't that sweet of her?"
"Did she?" Jonathan asked, raising a brow. He didn't look at Clary as he asked it.
Clary gulped.
Double shit.
She hadn't even thought about Jonathan. But of course he would have found out eventually. They were in this freaky little thing together. Not that that meant she had suddenly acquired a grasp on the meaning of teamwork-
"Oh, and I suppose you're invited, too," Aline told Jonathan, shattering her reverie. "It would be pretty rude to exclude you. You and Sebastian can keep each other company, doing whatever mundane activity it is that boys do, and Clary and I will go adventure around the city, having the time of our lives. It works out, actually."
Clary was glad that Aline was such a blabber mouth. It saved her from having to explain her poorly-thought-out promises.
Sebastian looked to be grappling for control over an oncoming smirk. "Well, it sounds like you don't even need me. I might as well just go screw myself."
Jonathan chuckled, bemused. "What, are you saying I wouldn't make an entertaining sidekick? I'm always down for a little adventure," he said, a little devilishly, she thought.
Sebastian perked up at this. "Really? Well, in that case, I suppose now would be a good time to inform you that I am as well." He adorned a hand upon his uniform-clad hip. "How about you and I go partake in a little mundane activity this weekend, far away from female judgement?" Aline rolled her eyes. "What say you?"
"I say, my good man," Jonathan replied, clapping Sebastian on the shoulder. "It's as if we operate on the same intellect."
Clary found herself wanting to roll her eyes. Boys and their silly role-playing. Not even Simon was immune to it. Him, least of all, actually.
Pain bloomed in her lungs.
Stop.
Stop thinking about him.
She couldn't afford another emotional plunge right now. Too much seemed to be happening, and she was barely keeping up as it was.
"Great, I'm glad we're all on the same page," Aline deadpanned. She turned to Clary then, releasing her hold of Clary's arm to replace it with one on both of her freckled hands. "How about we just meet up after school, and we can talk more game-plan, then?"
She looked so serious about it, Clary thought oddly. As if this trip with her budding best friend was deathly important to her.
She supposed, in a way, it was deathly important to herself, as well. It was an opportunity to get closer to both Aline and Sebastian, if everything went down accordingly. Meaning, if her father allowed it. Despite it seeming like a reasonable course of action for what he had demanded of his children.
Clary's eyes shot to Jonathan. Valentine had ruled that they return straight to the manor once classes were over, no teenage dilly-dallying allowed. But, what if that dilly-dallying pertained to a request directly from his own mouth?
Jonathan, ever so slightly, nodded. She would have missed the sign completely had her eyes not been begging for it.
Roping her gaze back at Aline, she said, "Yeah," in the cheeriest, most normal tone she could muster. "Sounds perfect. We'll talk more later," she promised. "See you after class, then?"
Clary only caught the beginnings of Aline's grin before the girl had her wrapped in a fierce bear-hug.
"Yay! Yes, of course. Thank you thank you thank you! I'll totally see you, then!" She detached herself, leaving Clary breathless.
Sebastian chuckled in amusement. "And that, my friend, is what you're going to be stuck with all weekend. Rethinking your decision yet?"
Clary felt an inexplicable blush burn into her face. Sebastian, as it turned out, was a very hard person to read. She could keep up with him the least of all.
Which was unfortunate.
Clary was saved from responding to him by the brutal shove of Aline, causing him to snicker harder as he stumbled back a few steps. "Can't be worse than being stuck with the likes of you," she griped.
Sebastian ruffled her hair with affection, causing her almond eyes to slit as she bat his hand away. "C'mon, Aline, I know you love me. Sometimes."
"Unfortunately," she mumbled, flattening her frizzy scalp.
At least Clary knew that Aline's bubbly personality only extended towards her, not some fake persona she presented to everyone. Though how she was supposed to take that, she wasn't exactly sure.
"Guess I'll be seeing you later, then," Jonathan addressed, nodding towards Sebastian.
"Guess you will," Sebastian agreed, nodding back.
Boys were such simple creatures. Never requiring more words than necessary to understand the thought process of another.
The image of the blond boy beating the holy hell out of the still-unconscious one flashed behind her eyes.
Maybe they weren't all so simple, after all.
The two boys smiled at each other, and then Aline was pushing Sebastian back, trying to get through the circle they had all inadvertently gathered in. "Let's get this over with. I'm starving."
"Well maybe if you actually ate food in the morning, instead of just drinking iced coffee," Sebastian retorted, turning away from her and her brother to follow Aline. Who was apparently the worlds fastest walker.
"I have to. I get too bloated if I eat before eleven AM," she informed him.
"Of course you do."
"Of course you do."
"Stop mimicking me."
"Stop mimicking me."
"Aline-"
Their banter dissolved into the background of chatter, which had picked up at some point between the earlier commotion and those two's departure.
Clary's head was shaking, just slightly.
Aline and Sebastian gave her more of an older-brother-younger-sister vibe rather than that of more distant cousins.
Though, again, seeing as how she'd never had a brother in her physical proximity before, she supposed she wasn't really one to speak on it.
Regardless, she figured she'd have to get used to them at some point.
It seemed that pretty soon, the four of them were going to be spending an interminable amount of time together.
Whatever that entailed.
"Well," Jonathan said, straightening the blazer of his unwrinkled uniform. He took a short breath, and smiled. Like it was just another predictable Tuesday. "Who's hungry?"
Sooo . . . I know it's been a while, but . . . hello?
I'm so sorry about the (completely) unplanned hiatus. I won't bore anyone with excuses. How about I just update more frequently, like a good little author? ;_;
This chapter was originally supposed to be much longer, but I didn't want to end up switching scenes, like, 6 times in a single chapter, and forcing you to read 20,000 words. That's a little excessive, even for me. Regardless, I hope this one doesn't feel rushed. I was excited to just post something and get it out into the universe after over a year of crickets ;_;
Anyways, new chapters coming soon~ very soon . . . stay tuned.