No memories came back to Clary that night. None at all, and she was left to wonder why-she had gotten a good amount of memories the night before. There was another question, though-why was she only now remembering fragments, why not before this trip? What was oh-so-special about this trip?
Isabelle was still sleeping-snoring loudly, that is-so Clary rolled over, scooting closer to the left side of her bed. And before she could make even a squeak, she was falling to the floor, her head connecting with the corner of the table that sat beside her bed, the sharp, wooden corner scraping down the back of her head, as she fell to the floor. Her head then proceeded to connect with the hard wood, causing Clary to wince in pain. Dark spots danced in front of her eyes, like being temporarily blinded by the bright flash of a camera. Only, this wasn't a camera flash, considering her vision just kept turning black, darker and darker, until there was nothing left to see, and her eyes fell shut.
XXX
Like hazy-yet somehow unbelievably clear, dreams, memories, images, small clips of things here and there, were coming back. Everything flooding Clary's brain, overwhelming her.
Jace walked, out to the woods behind his house, Clary could see him, his head turning back and forth, looking for her. She was sitting on a thick branch of a tall-enough-tree. The bark was digging into her skin, even through the denim of her jeans. It was definitely harder than she thought it would have been to climb a tree in skinny jeans. So much harder.
"Clary!" Jace called into the abyss of trees. She snickered into her hand, as he walked into the woods. She could see the golden hair, through the changing leafs on the trees, see him drifting further away from the tree she sat in. This was going to be entertaining. Clary sat back, watching, waiting. She had made sure to choose a tree with enough coverage so that Jace wouldn't see her. It was easier to camouflage her hair in the fall, what with all the red and orange leafs on the trees.
It was a good twenty minutes, before Clary caught a glimpse of golden hair wandering through the forest. She could hear twigs snapping, and leafs crunching under his shoes, as he called out, "Clary!"
She was going to scare him.
She wasn't the most graceful person ever, so she had had to practice the trick she was going to do, in order to scare him. There was still the chance that she would just fall, and break every bone in her body, but she was more than willing to take that chance-if it meant getting the reaction she wanted out of Jace.
Finally, he was just a little ways away from the branch she'd situated herself in. Clary got into position, so that she would be able to hang upside down from the branch. She gripped the bark as hard as she could, with her legs and hands, before she let go of the branch with her hands, and fell backwards. Jace turned around, and jumped back, letting out a noise of surprise. "Jesus, Clary," he said, holding a hand to his chest, looking her up and down. She probably looked ridiculous, with her hair hanging down and an amused grin plastered on her face. But it was so worth it.
"Hey," she waved, although she was upside down. "How's it going?" Jace laughed at this, and walked closer to her. "You can climb trees?" He asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow at her. "No," Clary deadpanned. "I used a ladder-it's right on the other side of the tree," she pointed to the tree. "Go check."
"I still don't believe you," Jace said, stepping back from her once again. "Alright," Clary said, and prepared to do the trick she'd been practicing. She grabbed the branch with her hands, momentarily disappearing from view. She removed her legs from the branch, and using momentum, swung down, until she was holding onto the branch as if she were about to do pull-ups. Clary wanted to close her eyes for the drop, just in case she did happen to break some bones, but she kept them open.
Clary dropped to the ground, crouching as she did so, so the impact wouldn't come on so strong, but it didn't do much. At all. Her feet stung, and pain shot up through her back. Luckily for her, though, it was gone in a few seconds. Jace looked fairly amused by it all; a smirk rested on his features, his arms crossed over his chest. His golden hair shining in the sun-that was setting, at the moment. The wind had turned cold, almost bitter, blowing the leafs on branches.
"Still don't believe me?" Clary asked, straightening her posture.
"Oh, I believe you," Jace said. "I just-no, I don't believe you. Where's that ladder?" Clary rolled her eyes and walked over to him. "I scared you," she mused.
"You did not," Jace protested. "Just think about how you would feel if you were walking around the woods looking for me, and I swung down from a tree."
"Jace, I'm about five-foot-three, and you're scared of me?"
"Have you met you?" He joked.
The memories came in and out, like a slideshow. It was like watching a movie of someone's life, only, it was her life, parts of it she didn't remember. There were memories of her and Jace, doing almost any activity normal teenagers did with their friends, things that seemed impossible to forget-especially when it was your best friend but, there Clary had been; clueless, oblivious, and not a person willing to tell her what she was missing out on.
"Isabelle!" Clary hissed, "Eyes on the road, damn it. You almost ran into that lamp post." It was a snowy night-no, scratch that. It was blizzard weather, and there Clary and Isabelle were, sitting in Isabelle's car, narrowly avoiding crashing into things as they drove on. They were supposed to meet Jace, at his house-which was all the way across New York-for movie night, but Clary wasn't so sure it was a good idea anymore. "Sorry," Isabelle said, her tone apologetic, her eyes on the road.
It was silent, for a moment, and then Isabelle briefly turned her head to look at Clary, and bit her lip, "You kissed him," she said. Clary raised her eyebrows, paling quite visibly, an unnaturally white colour. "W-what?" Clary choked out, trying to regain her composure. "Jace-you kissed him. Or did Alec just flat out lie to me?" Isabelle's eyes flickered to Clary again, while Clary's nails left crescent indents in her palms, as Isabelle's car started swerving off the road. "Iz!" Clary squeaked. Isabelle cursed loudly, and jerked the wheel, sending her car back into the lane. Though not many people were crazy enough to drive in blizzard weather, there still was a lot of cars, mostly taxi's, driving around. Some honked their horns at Isabelle, but really, they were doing it too.
"Isabelle, if we survive this drive, I'll tell you anything you want to know. But until that happens, please just try to focus, please?" Clary pleaded. Isabelle nodded curtly, her eyes sharpening, her gaze concentrated on the road ahead of her. It was near impossible, though; the blizzard had started, it seemed, because heavy snow blew around in the strong wind, covering the windshield, large snowflakes raining down at a rapid pace. The road was coated in a thick, fresh layer of ice-water that had frozen, from the snow melting only a few days ago. Clary shivered just looking at it.
She didn't think they'd make it, not without crashing. A half hour later-much longer than it would have taken, without the blizzard-Isabelle let out a heavy breath, pulling her BMW onto the side of the road in front of a large house, coated in snow-just like everything else. Lights shone through the windows, giving off a warm, cozy glow.
"He probably thinks we died on the way, we took so long," Isabelle joked, but a hint of seriousness crept into her voice.
"Yeah," Clary said, her hand gripping the latch that would open her door, expose her to the freezing cold winter air.
Isabelle shut off the car, the warm air that had been heating the car, ceased. Isabelle pulled the keys out of the ignition.
Without a word spoken, both girls opened their doors, and got out. The cold air bit viciously at Clary's exposed skin;maybe not wearing snow pants was a bad idea...
And to think, Christmas was still three weeks away.
"Brr," Isabelle laughed, rubbing her hands up and down the arms of her coat, manifestly trying-and failing-to regain the warmth that had escaped her body.
It was a long walk up the driveway, with Clary and Isabelle both slipping on the ice every so often. When they finally reached the few stairs up onto the covered porch, the silence was broken, "I think that might've been harder than driving here," Isabelle muttered. Her cheeks were red from the cold, and Clary could only assume hers looked the same, if not worse.
Clary stepped forward, and knocked on the steel, off-white door. Three loud knocks. The door opened, and a gust of warm air swept over Clary. She relished in the feeling of warmth, before the frosty weather swept it away. "What-I told you guys not to come-the weathers too bad. I texted you, Clary," Jace's voice rang through her head, a soft, sweet, almost melodic sound.
"Sorry, your heiness," Clary responded, the words coming out almost without her permission. "I have no service," Clary dug in her coat pocket, and pulled out her worn cell, shoving it in his face. He pushed her hand back gently, and sighed. "Idiots," he muttered, turning back into the house, walking away. "Don't know why you'd drive all the way here-in his weather," Clary found it funny, the way he was talking to himself.
Clary stumbled over the door way, looking back up to see Isabelle tugging her wrist. "What?" She raised her eyebrows. "You want to stand out there all night?" Clary shook her head, and kicked off her snow-caked boots by the door, Isabelle following suit.
Jace had long disappeared down the polished, warmly lit hallway, without so much as a word. Typical. No matter, though; Clary and Isabelle had been there enough times to know the house like it was their own. It practically was, sometimes. It was the same way Jace and Isabelle and Simon knew Clary's house; the same way they all knew Isabelle and Alec's house.
Agnes, a maid of sorts, walked down the hallway, in her hands she held a pile of blankets. They smelled as if they'd just come out of the dryer. "Hi, Agnes," Clary smiled softly. Agnes returned the smile, "Hello, dears," she stopped mid stride, the small heel of her black shoes clacking against the polished hardwood. "It must be very cold out there. Not very smart of you two to drive all the way out here-you'll be snowed in by morning."
"Blondie doesn't seem to think so, either," Isabelle replied, her gaze shifting down the hall, where it was darker, where there were no lights. Agnes laughed, "He's not been in a very good mood," she remarked. "Can't figure out why-but the boy's been pacing these halls for hours, it seems, waiting for you ladies to get back to him."
Clary almost felt bad, but then again, there hadn't been anything they were able to do, other than not crash. "I never got his text," Clary put it simply. "No service," she tapped her pocket, where the snow was starting to melt, turning to beads of water. Agnes nodded, "I do hope you girls don't plan on leaving tonight. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to the two of you," Agnes had always been so sweet, so kind. She didn't have a mean bone in her body, not that Clary had ever seen or heard of.
"If it will make you happy, Agnes, I don't see why not," Isabelle smiled.
"It's all settled then? You'll stay here until it's not a blizzard out there, no ifs ands or buts about it," Agnes began walking down the hall again, before turning her head back to the two girls. "Would you two like a room, or just the usual?" The usual was what almost always happened; they'd fall asleep on a mound of blankets and pillows, watching horror movies-or just really awful television shows that were on at two in the morning. "The usual," Isabelle said, it wasn't even debatable, because they'd both be too tired to move.
Agnes was off again, Clary and Isabelle walking down the hall, to the last room on the right, that lead to a large room, where they always hung out together. And sure enough, Jace was sitting there, arm draped over the back of the couch, the dull glow of false illumination from the television lighting his golden hair to a pale blonde. "You're stuck with us," Clary announced. Jace looked over at her, his expression blank and bored, almost wanting an explanation. "Agnes' disicison, not ours. Trust us, pretty boy," Isabelle added, patting his shoulder as she walked by the couch, tossing her coat over the back of it. Water splashed up, sprawling Jace in the face. "Sorry," Isabelle bit out sarcastically.
Clary couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. Jace's gaze flickered to her, something she couldn't quite place burned in his aureate eyes. It sent shivers down her body, and back up again. Clary only hoped that neither Isabelle or Jace had caught it; it was one thing for him to look at her, another for it to send shivers through Clary. Things were changing, morphing into unknown things, right before her eyes. She couldn't do anything to change it, nothing to stop it. It was either this, or ruin their friendship forever. What was worse? She kind of liked the idea of the former.
"My God," Isabelle gagged. "You both like each other, just date! Get it over with!" She exclaimed, her arms out wide, and then falling to her thighs, a loud slap resounding through the room as her hands made contact. She looked like she wanted to say more, but held her tongue.
"Yeah, sure, Iz, we'll get right on that," Clary rolled her eyes, peeling off her wet coat, draping it over top of Isabelle's. She subconsciously tugged on the bottom hem of her shirt, her eyes glued to her multi-coloured socks. "Nice socks," Jace teased. Clary glared up at him. "What is your deal?" She demanded.
A simple shrug was all she got in reply, his head turning back to face the television. Isabelle was being oddly silent, standing as if she'd been frozen in time, looking like she'd been mid-stride as she'd been frozen.
And that, was how Clary found herself angrily yanking up her coat from where it lay on the couch, grasping around in Isabelle's coat pocket for the car keys, and leaving the Herondale Mansion. If you had asked her why she was angry, she would have groaned, unable to pin-point the exact reason. Perhaps it was multiple reasons, perhaps it was just that Jace being his typical self had finally gotten on Clary's nerves. Whatever it was, though, she didn't care. The car door swung open, she climbed inside, jamming the keys into the ignition. The car came alive, cold air blowing out of the vents, where warm air was supposed to. Clary slammed the door shut,hastily pulled on her seat belt, and turned on the windshield wipers, big chunks of sticky snow falling to the ground, sliding down the hood of the car.
Clary shifted the car into drive, and stepped on the gas pedal, practically flooring it. The car skidded onto the road, and all Clary could think about was getting home, where no one would know-or ask-about why she was home early, they'd just be happy she'd gotten home alright. She could sit, draw with Jonathan, something she always loved doing.
The drive home was slippery, and scary. Clary's heart stopped nearly a hundred times, but she got home, just as the storm started to pick up. Being back in New York, not just on the outskirts, she had service, and her phone was ringing off the hook. Damn Jace and his amazing cell service. Annoyed, after the twentieth call, she picked up, warm air blowing through the vents, warming her forever-cold skin.
"What?" She demanded, right off the bat.
"Oh, thank God," Jace sighed into the phone.
"Is that all you wanted? I appreciate it, Jace, I do, but I really don't want to talk to you," Clary pulled her phone away from her ear, and clicked END CALL.
Jonathan hadn't asked questions, just nodded, and drawn with her. Their mom or dad weren't home, which Clary was a little glad for; she didn't have to explain, and from what Jonathan told her, they wouldn't be home for a few days with this awful blizzard.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Jonathan looked up from his sketch pad, pencil in hand. Clary shook her head, some hair falling out of the bun she'd made with a pencil. "Not really, no," Clary replied, and looked back at her drawing.
Later that night, Clary found herself watching television, not really paying attention to what was going on in front of her. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, she fished it out, to see Isabelle's face on the screen. She swiped the screen to answer it, "Iz? You do know what time it is, right?" Isabelle scoffed into the phone. "Please, I get a pass-you stole my car."
"I did not steal it!" Clary protested, "I borrowed it..." she trailed off, not wanting to explain to Isabelle the feelings even she didn't understand. "Anyways," Isabelle began. "Jace is asleep, and we're snowed in, so I'm stuck here for however long."
"Uh-huh," Clary said, readjusting her position, so that she was laying on her side, spread out across the couch. "So, why did you call?"
"I wanted-need to tell you something," She sounded as if she were trying to keep quiet. "Hang on-one sec," there was rustling, and then the soft closing of a door. "There." Isabelle sighed.
"It's about Jace-he-" Isabelle cut off. "He likes you, I can tell. And you like him, don't deny it." Clary had no plan to deny it. "But, you know this, somewhere-deep down, just like I do. But neither of us wants to admit it."
Clary gulped, she knew what was coming. "Stop whatever is going on, right now, Clary-you know what he'll do. Another girl will come along, and he'll break your heart. And you know what will happen? You'll be just another notch in his belt, another shattered heart in the long line that followed before. I don't want to see you like that, Clary. Jace would be long gone, leaving Simon, Magnus, Alec and me to pick up the pieces of who you were. I don't want that. Get out-now, while you can." Clary was about to say something-she wasn't sure what-when the phone went dead, Isabelle having hung up.
The following memory, was one she'd forgotten, but had already seen; the crash. It played over in her mind slowly, as Clary realized something; she never had had to "get out" of anything, the crash practically wiped her memory clean of Jace, and whatever he'd meant to her. But, now, everything was coming back-flood gates opening. Pouring emotions back into her she'd never quite felt before.
Then, everything went black. Nothing but static.