Heeey, guys! So, this story was meant to be up a long time ago, but life sucks and I had a lot of crap going on, so I waited until now because a) I wanted enough of this story to be read/beta'd so that I don't miss a scheduled update, which would have been the case otherwise due to the craziness that is this year, and b) I was too busy to make this happen faster. Sorry! But, anyway, here it is. My first fic in first person, and the one I've actually loved writing from start to finish. I'm posting the first chapter along with this prologue, so that you actually get a feel of the story. I hope you like it!

Thanks to Katwood5 for beta'ing this for me despite everything that's happening in our crazy lives. I love you. :) Thanks to IWriteNaked and greygirl2358 for being supportive and awesome 24/7.

Without further ado, here's the prologue. :)

Dear Jace,

My school and your school are in some sort of partnership or something, so I guess it's required for us to be "friends" now. Well, the appropriate term is "pals," but I don't really want to sound like a balding old man, so I'll stick with friends, if not acquaintances.

Anyway, I should probably say something about myself. I'm Clary Fray, and I just turned sixteen over the summer. I'm (sadly) a junior in high school. I love art in all forms. I (shockingly) hate school, have a geeky best friend, and live in New York. (Duh. Whatever, Jace. We'll see if you can come up with a creative introduction when it's your turn.)

I really hate this assignment, and I just failed a math test today. Nice to meet you. Sort of.

Dear Clary,

First off: I failed a math test, too, but only because I don't really give a crap about my grades or about math.

Secondly: I will entertain you in a million different ways. I'm going to blow your mind.

Thirdly: I'm glad to inform you that you don't sound like a balding old man, and the term "friends" is fine by me.

I'm Jace Wayland. I, unlike you, don't live in New York, but in Paris (Yes, having an international pen pal was totally an option, though not many people from your school got people from mine, because there are, like, 40 people in my grade). Instead of introducing myself in the way you have done (which was…okay, though slightly overdone), I'm going to ask a couple of people (read: girls) to describe me. I'll use direct quotes, don't worry.

Okay, so I'd saved this as a draft and am back with my quotes. Here we go.

Kaelie Thomas: She says that I'm "delicious" and "to die for" and, uh, claims that our hookup was "like going to heaven." She's kind of creepy, but she approached me, so I thought, "Hell, why not?"

Aline James: One of my good friends (and a lesbian, just so you won't think I'm cheating here) says I "look like a God" and "all girls follow me like my bitches," which is, well, true.

Girl #1 (sorry to say I don't know her name, but she drooled a lot): "Well, um, you have really gorgeous eyes, and your hair's also really good. And, uh, my friend says you have a really nice ass."

Girl #2: "I've been in love with you since the third grade." (I thought she was kind of weird.)

Girl #3: "You have really good taste in music, and I've always thought that guys who play the guitar and dress in black are the ones you should keep." (She was kind of cute. Might ask her out.)

Anyway, girls love me. A couple of my guy friends were gonna say stuff about me, but I decided not to put them in here, 'cause, well, you're a girl. Whatever.

I'm pretty sure—like, 100% sure—I entertained you a lot more than you did me. Though I do think you've got a cool personality, with your "I don't give a shit" sarcasm that is so universally understood. I admire you, Clary.

Can't wait to hear what you think.

Also, if you need corroboration and want a picture of my sexy ass, all you need to do is ask.


You are an asshole.

I have never met a guy who is more infuriating, and I haven't even actually met you. I highly doubt that girls drool over you, and I don't think there is anybody who would praise your ass, especially not someone who has heard you speak, assuming that you speak the way you type.

I don't care what you think about me. I couldn't give a shit if you think that my personality is endearing. I've had a really bad day, and reading an email from a guy who can't seem to get his head out of his ass is really not what I need right now.

If you are the kind of guy to deem people around you so unimportant that you can't even ask for their names, then I really do not wanna talk to you again. That's the worst kind of thing someone can be: an ignorant, arrogant, self-centered asshole.

Have a nice life,



Ouch. I, for one, don't understand why you decided to take out all your anger on me, because I was trying a new, barely-done way of getting your attention. It was also in hopes that you would see how people see me.

I don't want you to think that I'm the kind of guy who doesn't care about other people. Well, actually, I kind of do want you to think that, but it's threatening our assignment and I need a passing grade in English. So. Because of that wonderful fact, I'll try to make peace with you and tell you who I am. A little bit.

My name's Jace. I'm turning 17 in three months. I'm so very sorry that we got off on the wrong foot. I'm the captain of the soccer team, and my grades are actually not that bad. You know what I look like (and have heard about my ass), so I won't get into that. Girls do drool over me, despite your claim that they don't. I do speak the way I type sometimes, but people at my school don't seem to mind. It's refreshing that somebody can see that I speak like an asshole, though the way you phrased it makes me sound like I'm the World's Biggest Douchebag, which I'm not.

Anyway, sorry again. Please don't stop being my pen friend thing. I don't wanna get kicked off my soccer team/fail English (as a senior) and not graduate.


I'm glad that you apologized, even though your apologies are so obviously sarcastic that my eyes might bleed. Anyway, I don't care if they are or aren't, but I'm glad that you semi-acknowledged that you are a total dick. Thanks.

You're a senior? I thought they were pairing us up with people taking our same course. I mean, according to my English teacher, this was supposed to be "a way for people from different schools to talk about literary works and express their opinions with people their own age" or whatever.

I don't really know what to make of your email. I don't know you, and you're asking me to save your ass. I don't know, Jace. This is kind of a huge thing. Too huge for a five-foot nothing redhead with a too-short temper. You have to give me a little bit more than that.


My apologies were sincere. Pfft. Sarcasm? No idea what that is. You're welcome for my self-awareness, by the way. Very welcome.

I'm a senior, yeah. What English class are you taking? Ah, yes. My teacher said the same, and then a guy called Dave yawned so loud that she had to stop class to yell at him for five minutes. I love high school.

I don't know what else you want me to do. Do you want me to tell you the story of my pet falcon's tragic death? It's a sad one.

Seriously, though. I'm not good at talking about myself.


Seriously, dude, shut up.

I'm taking AP English. Also, I think your Dave is our Gabriel, who got detention for three weeks after telling the teacher that the assignment was unnecessary, stupid, and that he would rather die than write to some other teenager who probably didn't give a shit about getting to know him or his interests.

Some people really love to express themselves. I mean, we only have one more month until Christmas break. No one really gives a shit anymore.

As amazing as that story sounds, I'd really rather not hear it.

Um, I don't know. Tell me something about you that most people don't know. What do you like to do? What's your favorite quote? Something besides the facts. I want real things, things I can't just find on your Facebook. (Which I will not look for, because ew, creepy.)

Anyway, I look forward to hearing your answers.


AP English for me, too. I hate it, but my counselor recommended at least one AP course, and I'm not half bad at English. Your Gabriel sounds kind of dumb, though I admire his expressiveness.

Are you sure? Well, his name was Charlie, and he was my best friend. I'll tell you that.

What do I like to do? Soccer, girls, and music. I play the piano (or used to, but I haven't as of late). My favorite quote…I don't think I have a favorite quote. When I was little, my mom used to tell me something that I'm fairly sure was a quote by a dude called Henry something. It goes: "Three things in human life are important: the first is to be kind; the second is to be kind; and the third is to be kind." I haven't really been living up to it, even though that's probably what she meant for me to do, but being kind is hard when you're surrounded by idiots.

What about you, Clary Fray? What's your favorite quote? And your favorite song? What do you like to do?

Wow, that last "you" sounds accusing. It kind of is, to be honest.

Dear Jace,

I'm sorry you hate AP English. I didn't like it at first, because my teacher's kind of a bitch, but now I really, really like it. In fact, I'm kind of in love with it.

Charlie. How original.

Ha. Ha. "Girls." How freakin' original. Not like it was obviously an opening or anything. Idiot.

You played the piano? Why did you stop? I'd love to play piano, but I don't have the patience to learn. I wish I did, though. I think it's a beautiful instrument, and it sounds amazing.

The quote's by Henry James. He died on the last day of February almost one hundred years ago, you know. And it is hard to be kind when you're surrounded by idiots.

Fine. I guess I kind of deserve this. My favorite quote is…well, I have many. My favorite poetry quote is by Pablo Neruda, who's my favorite poet. I've been taking Spanish for three years just so I can understand his original poetry one day. Anyway, this is the quote: "I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul." Yeah, yeah, make fun of me or whatever.

My favorite book quote, though, is from To Kill a Mockingbird. Actually, there are two of 'em, and, for the sake of answering your question properly, I'll write them both down.

Quote #1: "You never really understand a person until you consider things from their point of view…until you climb inside his skin and walk around in it."

Quote #2: "Until I feared I would lose it, I never loved reading. One does not love breathing."

Favorite song right now is "Babel" by Mumford & Sons. ("I've never lived a year better spent in love" is a great lyric, let me tell you, and I sing it in my sleep.)

I like to draw. I like to read, but I don't do so often, and I like to play video games with my best friend, Simon, and listening to his girlfriend (and my friend) Isabelle, talk about whatever she wants to talk about. I like spending time with my mom in the art gallery she owns.

Anyway, there you go. The kind of long, elaborate answer you should have written to me. You're very welcome for the example, Jace Wayland.

Dear Clary,

Holy shit, you are a nerd. Not in a bad way.

Charlie was amazing and will never be forgotten, and he had the most badass name ever.

I'm choosing to ignore your insults from now on, because our conversations will be a lot more productive that way.

I don't really know why I stopped playing. I didn't consciously make the decision to, and sometimes I'll go and play something that I used to practice religiously, and I'll wonder why I ever stopped. I guess life got in the way or something.

I did not know that. Thank you for those enlightening facts. (And no, Fray, I am not being sarcastic.)

It's not cheesy. I don't really like poetry, but that wasn't half bad. I googled the poem, and it was bearable. (And by that I mean it was good.)

I liked To Kill a Mockingbird. Finally, something we can agree on.

Personally, "Little Lion Man" is always stuck in my head, not "Babel," though it's definitely a good song nonetheless.

What do you draw? I mean, do you do portraits, or landscapes, or just whatever? Why don't you read that much? I know it sounds like I'm asking a lot of questions, but I'm trying to keep this thing alive. Like I said, I'm asking you things because I am not good at talking about myself.

Anyway, Clary Fray, thank you for the wonderful example of what my answer should have been. Adieu.

Dear Jace,

I hate getting to know you like this.

I know you're probably going to roll your eyes and say that you don't understand me (because you don't, but that's completely beside the point). I just don't think that hearing what you think about what I do and then getting to know your favorite things says that much about you. I've been trying to figure out why it's bothering me, but then I realize that it's because I don't want to email someone I can't have a conversation with.

It's stupid. I know. So how about we try to just tell each other what's going on in our lives? Like, everyday stuff? Is that stupid?

By the way, you should go back to playing the piano. :)

Dear Clary,

That doesn't sound too bad. Here, I'll start.

Okay, so I woke up at five in the morning, and then I went on my usual morning run. It was cold as fuck, so I ran a little faster, listened to my music a little louder, and maybe sort of made the run a little shorter. But it was freezing, so you can't really blame me for it.

Then I went to my dorm, showered and changed, and met up with my friend, Sebastian, at the cafeteria, where we ate breakfast. This was also where Kaelie twirled her hair and asked if I wanted to take her out. I said no. I went to my classes. In math, the teacher threw an eraser at a guy who fell asleep. In science, someone threw up. It was all wonderful.

Then I had soccer practice, where Sebastian called me a pussy for not having sex with Kaelie (I'm only telling you this so you never ever come near Sebastian, because he is a giant dick and will probably try to have sex with you). I nailed him in the nuts with the ball. He didn't say anything to me after that.

I headed back to my dorm, then had dinner by myself, and am now eating ice cream (after showering) and writing this email to you. Oh, yeah, and I'm completely ignoring my homework. Because who needs homework, anyway?

I hope that was good enough for you.

Dear Jace,

Do your parents fight a lot? Sorry for asking, but…I was curious. Also, I totally forgive you cutting your run early. Exercise + the harsh, unforgiving Paris cold in November = completely an excuse to cut things short.

Ah, yes. A day in the life of Jace Wayland. Getting asked out by a girl. Of. Course.

I think I kind of like Sebastian. Not for trying to get you to have sex with Kaelie, but for calling you a pussy.

What kind of ice cream are/were you eating?

Today was boring for me, too. I woke up at 7, showered quickly, ate quickly, and got to school by 8:15. Isabelle, my friend, stopped by my house so we could walk to the subway together. She kept talking to me about her big date with Simon this weekend, which I totally didn't wanna hear about, because she kept going on about how she thought this was "the weekend." I do not need to know about their sexcapades, but apparently I don't have a choice in the matter, so I'm dragging you, basically a stranger, along for the ride.

Anyway, we went off to US History, which is our first period. The teacher's, like, really pregnant, and her water broke in the middle of class and there were kids crying and screaming and someone started hyperventilating, and the teacher was trying not to fall while someone got a nurse. It all went well, though. She was taken to a hospital (there's one, like, two blocks from my school), and I think she's doing okay.

The rest of my day was pretty uneventful, except a guy slapped Isabelle's butt while we were in line during lunch, and she kneed him in the balls. She has detention now.

I got home to an empty house and ate some leftover pizza, showered, took a one-hour nap, did some homework, and am now emailing you while I eat cookies. So, yeah. That's my day.

Dear Clary,

They fight a lot, yeah. I sometimes wonder why they're together, you know, in the same way I'm wondering why I'm telling you any of this, but I guess none of it makes any sense, so I just roll with it.

I was eating rocky road ice cream, by the way. The best.

Holy shit. I can't believe your teacher's water broke in the middle of class. I don't know whether to laugh or feel sorry for the poor, traumatized bastards in your class. Oh, well. I'm opting for the former.

Ah, that guy completely deserved to be kneed in the balls.

Seeing as I emailed an hour later, the only eventful thing that's happened is that a Full House marathon is on, and I've been watching it since I sent that last email.


It's different, and you know it. People shouldn't be together if all they're going to be is unhappy. I mean, I'm no relationship expert, but I'm fairly sure that suffering isn't part of their charm.

Rocky road ice cream is good, but not the best. Mint chocolate chip is where the good things in life are. Seriously.

Ah, yes. Gotta love high school. It's not every day you get to witness the beginning of a birth. Definitely the former. Half of them were looking forward to the birth (her absence, rather), so it's only fair that they witness it.

She went easy on him, really.

Oh my god, I love Full House! I wish I could watch the marathon, but this five-paragraph essay is calling my name. Yay, school!


There's going to be unhappiness in everything. How will you know what happiness is if it's the only thing you ever feel? It's like something I heard once. Someone said to me that you can't know how good the light is if you don't have the dark to compare it to.

I respect mint choco chip, I really do. But rocky road, Fray. Rocky road is where my money will be until the end of time.

You're kind of gross—and exactly the kind of person I wanted to get for this assignment.

Five-paragraph essay? Right before Thanksgiving? Your teacher has no mercy. Full House is worth failing a class for, anyway.

By the way, it's really, really late here. As in, I'm going to probably die tomorrow morning. But it'll be Friday, so it's okay.


You're getting deep here. Seriously, I'm scared that somebody took the Jace I talked with at first and replaced him with a smarter, more likeable version. I'm not complaining, though.

You "respect" it? That's such bullshit. I think you secretly want to cheat on rocky road with mint choco chip. It's what everyone does in the end, anyway.

I'm glad I meet your (extremely high) expectations.

My teacher needs to get laid. Seriously, seriously laid.

I forget that you live in Paris sometimes. Seriously, that's really cool. I wanna travel all over Europe—Spain, Germany, Italy, France, the whole thing—so I think it's cool that you get to live there.

Anyway, I'll stop rambling now, because, according to the Internet, it's two in the morning over there. Seriously, dude, get some sleep.


I'm up. I didn't go on my morning run (too tired) and now have half an hour to kill after showering and getting ready. I'm seriously considering a nap.

Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny, Clary Fray. You're just jealous of my amazing looks and my wonderful brain.


I never really said that…

I think all single teachers need to get laid.

Traveling isn't really as glamorous as it seems. It's kind of annoying, people waking you up at five in the morning to see a bigger version of something you can see a million pictures of online. Traveling is only as amazing as you think it is if you do it your way. Wake up at 4pm when the day is calm and go walk around and feel the place, and you're really traveling. That's how my stepmom travels, but not how my dad does it, so I've never really liked traveling.


Fifteen minutes have passed. A guy farted outside.

I wish you were awake to give me a witty response to that or something. I'm off to class. Have a nice day, I guess. Try not to infuriate too many people.


Last email until later, I promise. But I just realized that this assignment is ending in three weeks. It's only been less than two weeks since it started, but isn't it a little bit crazy, at least, that we might not really know each other after those three weeks?


Jesus Christ, dude, take a chill pill. (But I like that you've emailed me three times over the course of, like, an hour.)

No morning run?! Gasp.

Oh, yeah, because all I want in life is hear people talk about my sexy ass and lack of world knowledge.

You would, too, cheat on rocky road. Weirdo.

I want to travel that way. I mean, I do travel that way, even though my definition of "traveling" was going to Disney (Florida) for my 16th birthday. Anyway, I want to get a taste of what the place is like on my own, just like you said. I think there's nothing interesting about looking at the places with a person who's feeding you something they've memorized. I think you need to go out and explore things and find out about them by yourself, 'cause that's part of what makes traveling so exciting.

I just woke up, too, so I don't know what to say to the farting guy in the hall. Sorry to you, though, for having to witness that.

I'd rather not think about two or three weeks from now. I like getting to know you, Jace Wayland, and thinking about the future just makes everything seem and feel pointless.


(There are no chill pills in France. I've checked.)

I know. The world is ending.

I think you missed the smart part in that sentence.

Listen, Fray, I don't think you understand my love for rocky road, so I'll let this misunderstanding slide.

I like your definition of traveling. If it were up to me, I'd travel that way, 'cause it doesn't feel right to go to all of these monuments and "special places" and not even know what the place is really all about.

Thank you for your condolences. I'm fairly certain that half of my brain cells died.

That is true. But sometimes you have to think about it, you know. I don't usually, but it's weird for us to be getting along and then to have to face the fact that maybe we won't even talk at all a couple of weeks from now.


I'm assuming you're way done with school now. I'm in Journalism, supposed to be writing an environmental article, but I thought I'd check my email and give you a little bit of entertainment.

I'm sorry 'bout the lack of chill pills. I'd mail you some, but I'm a girl, not a sugar daddy.

Seriously, you're gonna be so out of shape and the girls are going to stop wanting to be with you and then you're gonna die of loneliness. All for missing one day of running.

I decided to disregard it for obvious reasons.

The only misunderstanding is that you think rocky road is better than mint chocolate chip, Wayland.

I agree. It's like when I see tourists in New York, and they waste so much time going to the Statue of Liberty or the Empire State that they forget that there are so many tiny places that make you feel something about the place you're visiting.

I'm pretty sure your brain cells dying is a regular thing.

Okay, okay, yes, the possibility that we'll become strangers after this assignment is over is a little strange. But people who you think are going to be there forever can become strangers in a second. It's a thing I'll never forget, and you shouldn't, either.

Why're we talking about this, anyway?


Your assumptions are correct. Just got back from dinner, where a girl tried to touch my mango, if you know what I mean. It was a thrilling experience.

I'm gonna call you my sugar daddy from now on.

Oh, man. I'll live in misery.

Obvious reasons?

You think you can fight me?

This conversation's going places that are too deep for teenagers to handle. Soon enough, we'll be wondering what life is really all about and eating cheese and wine.

They grow back just as fast, and don't you forget it.

We're talking about this because you, Clary Fray, are actually a pretty cool person to talk to. It also helps that you're many, many miles away and will never damage my reputation, so yeah. But seriously, though, there aren't many people that I can talk to like I talk to you.


By "thrilling experience," do you mean slightly inappropriate and 100% creepy?

I'm torn between making a joke about being a crappy sugar daddy and glaring at you, but I think the latter's winning, which would explain why I'm glaring at my screen right now.

Misery loves company, so I'm sure you'll come across someone desperate enough.

Let's not argue about what makes you dumb.

I can fight you and win before you can protest, jerkface.

As long as it's expensive, rare cheese and good wine… (Just kidding. We aren't fifty.)

Uh-huh. Keep tellin' yourself that, pretty boy.

Your reputation's damaged enough. I could only bring it up. Also, there are plenty of girls you can talk to. You just don't dare because of this whole "reputation" bullshit. Seriously, you don't even know what I look like. I bet that, if you knew me, you wouldn't even say hi to me. It's not that I think I'm the ugliest girl ever, but you clearly think very highly of yourself and of the people you surround yourself with, and I'm not one of them.

The point is, you only find this way of talking non-threatening because you don't know me. You don't like me, but the idea of me, and I'm okay with it either way. You're entertaining to know, but…the only reason you talk to me this way is because you can just stop one day and I won't be there to fight you about it.

Sugar Daddy,

She was attractive, so I'm gonna say it was the opposite.

I'm still just gonna call you my sugar daddy, as you can see.

Wow, your confidence in my future is touching.

I can't believe you think you can take me. I bet it's 'cause you're a ginger.

You're right. We're forty-nine. Fifty's near, though. Very near.

Did you just call me pretty? I usually get called devastatingly handsome, but pretty will do.

If I knew you in real life, I would talk to you. Okay, maybe not if you acted like the girls I know, 'cause they're all over me all the time and it's weird, but if you acted this way in real life then I'd get to know you. Or I'd want to, I think. I don't know. Maybe you're right. Maybe I don't trust people and base my social interactions on looks, and maybe that sucks.


Sorry it took me four days to write back. The power went out for TWO DAYS, and then my mom decided it was a sign, so we went camping because, obviously, that's what you do when the power goes out.

I'm gonna ignore you calling me sugar daddy on account of me being a girl.

You're goin' places. Like maybe Walmart, where you can be assistant manager and find yourself an okay-lookin' girl. :P

I'm a ginger, not invincible. I base that statement completely on facts, because, hell, I could beat anybody who tried to fight me.

Oh, the dreaded fifty!

It was a sarcastic remark, you moron.

"Maybe" it sucks? I think it sucks a lot. There are so many people you're ignoring who could be great. People like me, you know, the kind of people you can talk to and they'll talk back without giving in to your looks and stupid shit. But you ignore 'em, and I think that's the worst thing about you.

It doesn't make you a bad person, though. It just makes you a person.


I accept your apology, but only because I'm three days late replying. My parents were in London, so I traveled there to see them, 'cause it's been four months, and we talked and whatever and…yeah.

How was your Thanksgiving, by the way? Mine consisted of my parents announcing their divorce.

Camping sounds fun, though. Maybe?

Since when do you use your gender to make excuses for anything?

Okay-lookin'? I think I can manage fantastic, actually, so I'm aiming for the stars.

Uh-huh. We'll see, Ginger. We'll see.

We're still looking good for fifty, I think.

Are you using sarcasm to hide your love and admiration?

Okay, okay, you're right. I just suck at approaching people who could give me shit for it, you know?


Nice to hear about your parents visiting, but SO not nice to hear about their divorce. I'm so sorry. :(

My Thanksgiving was…eventful. Simon and Isabelle had a fight, so I was distracted with trying to get them to talk. My mom was out of town, so I was supposed to go over to Simon's, but then Isabelle told me I couldn't because I'd be breaking some friendship bond or whatever, so I ended up going to a restaurant with my brother.

Camping was not fun. I have bug bites all over!

True, true.

Aim all you want, but it's all about whether you're a good shot or not.

I look amazing for fifty. You, on the other hand…have you been running?

Love and admiration are two foreign concepts to me.

I get it. I do. Confrontation and socializing. They suck. I suck at both of 'em, too, but don't make this pen pal thing some special thing in your head, and don't make me the "only girl you can talk to like this" or whatever, because I'm literally just that: a girl.

Sugar Daddy,

It's okay. I didn't think it'd come, because I figured they're old and would stick to their commitment, but I'm glad it did. Maybe they can be happy while they're apart. I don't know.

Did Simon and Isabelle work things out? At least you got to eat. Was it Thanksgiving-y food?

Camping's awesome. Well, I've never actually gone camping, but it sounds awesome.

You're mean, Clary Fray.

I have, indeed, been running. Soccer season starts in two and a half months, and I have to be ready if I wanna be captain.

Foreign? Well, I can kind of believe that you wouldn't know the two. I can teach you them, since I've heard I'm an admirable, loveable guy.

I know you're just a girl. I'm saying you're easy to talk to, and I haven't met a girl I can talk to like this. Can we leave it like that?


Sorry about the not answering. Isabelle's in the costume department for the school play, and she was having a breakdown because she procrastinated making the costumes (she's, like, the head of the department or whatever), so I had to stay after school with her this whole week, and I kept getting home at eight. It was exhausting. So, yeah. And now there's only a week until this project ends, and I haven't talked to you about anything, and I'm sorry.

It sucks to have a broken family, even if you see the brokenness coming.

They did, as per usual. And I did!


I'm 100% mean.

Captain? Wow. Are you that good?

You forgot to mention how absolutely humble you are.

Yeah, okay. I like that you can talk to me, by the way, even if it's because you're in Paris and I'm not.


Yeah, there's only six days until this project ends, and I don't want it to.

Did the whole thing go okay? Did you make the costumes?

That's true, but I can't do anything about it.

I'm glad Isabelle and Simon aren't broken up. Also, I'm glad about the food.

Nope. Never. My parents aren't outdoors-y.

I'm pretty good. But also committed.

It's one of my many qualities, Clary Fray.

Come over to Paris. It's fun.


Four days until this thing is over now. :( Sorry for not replying yesterday. It was the play's opening night, and I HAD to be there (insert eye roll), so I couldn't email back. But now I can! Yay!

We did make the costumes.

I guess you can't.

I'm glad to hear that you aren't going to wish my friends to break up. Also, yay, food!


I hope you get the captain spot, then.

Care to show me the rest of 'em, Jace Wayland?

I wiiiiish.


Technically three days, since it's 6am for me now.

Was it good? The play, I mean. I'm glad that you got to make the costumes and all that.

I would never. Simon and Isabelle seem like perfectly decent people (I think).

Never ever. Not even when I was a kid.

Thanks. :)

Are you flirting with me, Clary Fray?

So do I.

Jace Wayland,

Two days, because I totally forgot to reply? Sorry? School has been absolutely insane. My best friend got detention, which is tragic, because he held a perfect record until a guy insulted Isabelle and Simon punched said guy in the face.

Hence the detention.

As you can see, Simon's a pretty loyal boyfriend. Izzy likes him. A lot.

By the way, the play was good! Thanks for asking!


Do you not know me at all? I a) can't flirt and b) don't flirt.

Pariiiis. It's the perfect city. I am jealous.

Dear SD,

It's okay. I know how hectic school can be. Trust me. That's pretty heroic of Simon. Did he hurt his hand? I have a feeling he hurt his hand. Sucks that he got detention for it, though.

That's good about the play.


I know for a fact that you're the master of seduction.

It's not that great, really. Way overrated.


School sucks. I got an A+ on my history paper, though! Yaaaay!

Definitely heroic of him, but he should've thought it through. And yeah, his hand is all bruised up. How'd you know?


Oh my god.


Dear SD/Clary Fray,

Today's the last day.

Congrats on the A+.

Yeah, well, he just sounds like the kind of guy who would punch another guy thinking it'd be just as badass as it is in the movies, only it's kind of painful. I bet he didn't even know how to make a good fist.


I'm the one who lives here, you know.


It IS the last day. UGH. But we're still keeping in contact, right? I mean, I need to know if you ever take my advice and decide to go camping. Assuming you come back alive from that adventure.


Ugh. I hate how well you know my friends without actually knowing them. Yeah, Simon's an idiot, but I gotta love him.


So? What's your point?

Dear SD,

We're definitely staying in contact. Though I'm not gonna be able to message you until the third week of December (the end of it, anyway) because of finals. I need to be an exemplary student and all. And I would totally kick anyone's ass out in the wild.

Simon does sound like an idiot. But at least he stuck up for Izzy, right?


I know the city better than you do.

(This might be the last email I send you for a while. But I'll be back. Au revoir, for now.)


Good luck with finals! You're gonna kick their ugly butts.
Yeah, he's a good friend and a good boyfriend. I just wish he would think about what he does sometimes, because seriously.


Um, so? I've seen pictures.

(Alright. I'll be waiting. Adios, for now.)


It's been two weeks since that last email. It's the end of the third week of December. Your finals are obviously done. Where are you?


I'm kind of worried. Seriously. What happened to you?


I was right about you. You're an asshole, and a liar, and you suck. Have a nice life.


Sooo, yeah. Let me know what you think! xo