In the Hour of Silence

Chapter 5

Clary POV

"You want a drink or something?" Jace asks as he opens the fridge.

I awkwardly shake my head and look at the book I'm reading on my phone again. I'm trying to make it through this rather awkward encounter without "speaking" to Jace anymore than I have to.

I continue reading, when, all of a sudden, the phone is snatched from my hand. I scoff in argument and look up to see Jace smirking, my phone in his hand. "You can have this back when you decide to use it to talk to me." I mouth Fine and he hands the phone back to me. He smirks down at me while I glare at him. "So," he starts, "where ya from?"

I raise my eyebrows at him and type What kind of a question is that?

"Where are you from? Have you always lived in luxurious Brooklyn or were you born somewhere else?"

I was actually born in another country. You've probably never heard of it. Nothing ever happens there. It's just a small country somewhere between France and Germany with one moderately big city. I show him the phone and something in his face lights up.

"You mean Idris?" I raise my eyebrows at him wondering how the hell he knew which country I was talking about. Not even my geography teachers knew what country I was talking about. "My parents were from there. I was almost born there, but my parents moved a few weeks before I was born, ignoring every warning they have for not flying when you're pregnant."

Seriously? Did they live in Alicante or in the countryside?

"Alicante, at first, but they settled down in the countryside, moderately close to the city," he explains. "Then they decided to leave for more excitement. What about your parents? Why move halfway around the world?"

I shrug. Never got the chance to ask them. I shake off the memories starting to seep into my head and type Doesn't matter anyways. My only remaining family lives all the way in Europe and I'm here. Let's talk about something else.

"Okay. Here's a question I've been dying to know. Why be silent? Why not speak and be heard by other people. What possibly could have happened to you where you chose to never speak again?" he pries.

I take a deep breath. It's personal. When he starts to speak again I quickly type Look, I don't talk about what happened to anyone. If you think I'll tell you after knowing you less than twenty four hours, you're crazy. Just drop it.

"Fine. Whatever you want." He moves so he's leaning on the counter directly across from me. From this angle, I can see directly into his golden brown eyes. "So," he starts, "have you reconsidered my invite for coffee?"

I scoff as I lean back and type You think after five minutes of talking I'm ready to go on a date with you?

"Well, this is the hardest I've ever had to try with a girl. You should feel honored I'm trying so hard."

Yeah. Soooooo honored. The text comes with an eye roll by the way. Even if this is the "hardest you've ever tried", I don't go out with people I barely know. Besides, you're not my type.

He scoffs slightly. "You do know me. And, how am I not your type? I'm everyone's type!"

Okay, 1. I literally only know your parents were from the same country as me and that you were adopted after they died and 2. you're far too much jock and not enough nerd. Incase you haven't noticed, I'm a nerd. I'm pulled to my people.

"Have you ever tried liking someone who wasn't a nerd?" Jace asks with an amused look on his face.

I sit there and think about it for a minute. I've never really liked anyone before... I admit, glancing down at my shoes. I don't want to see the amusement on Jace's face as he realizes I've never had even a small relationship before.

"Really? There's not a single person out there that you've had a crush on?" Jace asks in utter disbelief. I look up to him as I shake my head 'no' and am surprised to see there's barely a hint of amusement on his face. "Now, I find that hard to believe."

I shrug and type I don't know what to tell you. I've never really been that interested in anyone--boy or girl. I see the time on my phone and add Shouldn't we get going?

He looks at the clock on the wall and says, "Sure. Let's go then." I grab my backpack while Jace grabs his along with his keys. We head out the door and to his dark red Chevy Malibu and get in. Jace hooks his Spotify up to the car where he starts playing Twenty Øne Pilots--causing me to sigh in relief that it wasn't Fetty Wap or Drake. We ride in silence seeing as we can't talk due to my not wanting to text him while he's driving. As soon as we pull into the school parking lot and park, I start to get out when Jace grabs my hand. "One date. It doesn't have to be anything special, just talking over coffee if you want. Please?"

I think about it and nod, giving in. I'm there long enough to see a smile spread across his face. I start walking to make it to my locker in order to get all my stuff when Principal Penhallow stops me. "Clarissa, may I speak to you for a second?" I nod and step into her office. Once we've both taken a seat, she speaks again. "I received a letter from the state this morning with a form enclosed requiring you to go to therapy."

I start to get unbelievably pissed off as I type. WHAT!? I haven't had to go to therapy for five years. Why would now be any different!?

"The social worker on your case feel like now was the right time to try to help you again. In their eyes, they're preparing you for the world so your job options aren't limited by the fact that you refuse to speak. As someone whose job is to prepare you for the real world, I think this may be the best option for you."

When I was eleven they told me I'd never have to sit in a therapist's office ever again.

"Your case worker at the time felt that was the best choice for you at the time as an eleven year old girl traumatized and grieving the loss of her family. As I'm sure you know, you were assigned a new case worker a few days ago, and she feels it is the right thing for you to do this," she informs me.

And if foster father decides I won't go, or I just don't go?

Principal Penhallow sighs. "The state is requiring it, Clarissa. If your foster father denies a requirement set for one of his charges, you could be taken out of his home and placed in one where you could never see him again."

I let out an annoyed groan. Fine. I'll go.

AN

HELLO FELLOW NERDS.

I just wanted to clarify to an unnamed individual that almost all italicized sentences are what Clary types. And, even though I don't always say she showed it to the person, assume she did seeing as they reply.

See ya.
Bella