20The earrings were a little heavy, and the dress was sold to her by the devil's children. But, they were always that way, and it wasn't like Clary looked unpleasant. She was wearing a black dress that had the deepest V-neck she had ever encountered in her twenty-six-year-old lifespan, and it clung to her skin for dear life. Her hair was constrained into some fancy ponytail she saw on Pinterest and decided to try out.
"Baby, are you a parking ticket? Because you've got fine written all over you," Camille's voice sprouted from thin air, pulling knots of laughter out of Clary. The blonde silently shuffled over to Clary's bed, which was a collection of too-thick comforters and a few colonies of throw pillows, and plopped herself onto it none too graciously. Reminiscent of a distressed whale.
And Camille was calling Clary fine.
"Hey shitlord, I'm already taken," Clary claimed proudly. "This ho is no longer single and ready to mingle."
Incredulity bubbled in her friend's face. "Oh? And who is this unfortunate civilian?"
Their gazes melded together, the intensity reaching an unhealthy level as each second tirelessly drifted by. "If you must know, god and I are in a pretty committed relationship." Clary crossed her arms defensively. "I have faith that it's going to work out this time."
"It would be too sinful to be near you while you're wearing that dress. It's not going to work out with god," Camille teased, winking. "Are you a library book, Clary? Because, I want to check you out."
Clary was mortified. Cold air stung her eyes as she propped them wide open. "You're disgusting," she deadpanned. "Dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow." Her feet were carrying her out of the room, to the kitchen. She had about twenty minutes until Isabelle came and picked her up. She could get out a bag of chips in that time, for sure.
"I don't have a cow, dumbass!" yelled Camille from Clary's bedroom. "I have you."
"But I have chips, so I'm superior and you're not." Clary made sure her crunching was nastily loud. Expectedly, Camille slid out of the bedroom and stuck her hand in the bag of chips.
The packet was stripped of those glorious sour-cream-and-onion chips in five minutes flat, and nothing but the sound of chewing passed between them. When Clary was discarding the bag in the trash, she asked, "You're sure you don't want to come with me? If we hustle, we can get you ready in the fifteen-ish minutes we have left."
"Nah," Camille drawled. "I thought I'd go to Alec's place in a few hours, and go to work with him in the morning, too." Then, after the smallest of pauses, she added, with her devious smile, "If I run into Magnus in the morning, I might just stay a while to bond with him about what a pain in the ass you are."
Clary's eyes crinkled as a warm smile graced her face, her hand going to her chest in endearment. "You guys would talk about me for that long? I'm so lucky to have you—bring it in." She opened her arms, wide and welcoming, and waited for Camille to give her the fattest hug.
Camille did no such thing.
-()-
"It's so fucking dim in here. I bet you, Clary, mom's probably trying to hide something," commented Isabelle suspiciously at the drab atmosphere of the hall, and indeed, the lights gave a tired glow.
"They probably just want people to make mistakes easier," Clary added, stare dawdling all around, taking in the grand tables scattered generously, her co-workers dressed in the loveliest of clothes. Half of them acted as if they were being filmed, so polished. A lavishly decorated bar stood temptingly at the other end of vast room, and when she also spotted a cluster of her friends chatting animatedly with each other, tonight was beginning to turn a bit brighter.
"Oh shit—Clary hide me," the words scampered out of Isabelle in a hurry, and the girl was stationing herself behind Clary, bending so they were both essentially the same height. "Mayday, mayday; mom's in the crowd. I repeat, Maryse Trueblood has let herself loose into the crowd."
Awkwardly, the two of them shifted towards where Clary saw Maia, Magnus, and Raphael. "And your mother looking at you is the worst thing, why?"
It was a mistake that Clary laughed, because she could feel the skin of her back being assaulted by Isabelle's venomous glare. "I'll have to spend the rest of my time with her, talking to people I'd never known existed until now. This is dire."
"Your mom's hosting this party, Iz. You'll see her at some point. Why don't you go finish up with her now, so you don't have to hide the entire time?"
"Clary, I am this close to beating your fuck."
"You're—you're going to beat my fuck?"
"I will beat your fuck."
Clary sighed, tucking a strand of her apple-red hair behind her ear and wondering why it wasn't in her ponytail. "This is ridiculous."
"No, Clary," Isabelle started, in a voice that was calm, like the soft flap of wings, "you, are ridiculous."
The offended look on the redhead's face wiped away in a matter of seconds, replaced by a warm, pleading smile, as she stopped in front of the group of her friends. "Isabelle's hiding," she stated.
Magnus raised his eyebrows, eyes shining in the greatest amusement. But it was Maia who asked, "From what? Wait, no—let me guess. This atom of nitrogen flirted with her three years ago, but Isabelle rejected it, because it was still living in its mother's basement. But now it's back, looking for the long-lost love of its life and proposing marriage." She had an impressed, proud element in her features. And everyone was silent, clearly holding back laughter, because that was the lamest shit ever.
"Dang, Maia, you're so fucking close, it's scary," Clary said, mock-regret slathered all over her tone. "She's hiding from Ms. Trueblood, though."
Raphael laughed, staring at Maia to look at her reaction and the others followed, but the noise was drowned under the chattering of everyone else in the hall. "Shut your traitor mouths, assholes," Isabelle hissed, yet there was a humorous edge it. "She might hear us."
Magnus cast his gaze around, then dragged it back to Isabelle. "From across the room? Isabelle, sweetie, have you hit your head somewhere?"
The lot of them snickered, though lovingly, and Isabelle scowled. She was going to threaten to give all of them food poisoning, because apparently it was her superpower and she would own it, but then a voice, smooth and rough all at once, sliced right into their conversation, "so as it turns out, the bar's a hoax, and we're all so fucked."
"I think I'm going to have a heart attack," Raphael said, a frown melded into his face. He seemed a bit more at ease, however, after Jace stepped beside him. Clary knew Raphael just well enough that she could ask a favor of him and keep the guilt at bay.
"Have it elsewhere," Magnus suggested with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "You might make a scene."
"Ever the considerate one," said Clary, slinging an arm over Isabelle's shoulder. A warmth clung to her skin, then, sinking and sinking until she was staring at myriad shades of lovely honey, and a pink flush flooded her.
In Jace's gaze lay curiosity, and beneath that flowed a slow current of sorrow. She looked away, noticed everyone laughing, and joined in. Jace did, too.
A web of conversation and laughter tangled around them, getting thicker as time raced. Somewhere in the middle, Mrs. Trueblood's glare cut through their web and straight to Isabelle, and with Isabelle stolen away, Clary felt odd with one of her arms just dangling now.
But that feeling vanished, since her phone started ringing, and now her arm had something to do. The caller ID read: Celine.
Wet marble floors, cold food, Camille's quivering sobs—my mom's been lying to me, Clary. She lied to me. There was an intense betrayal coating her blood, but she remembered the frivolous feeling going to Camille's house when she started middle school, Celine shielding them from all the harsh bullets of the world, and she picked up the phone.
A stretched sob from the phone jolted Clary out of her reality, into something much worse. Terror blotted the dim lights out, blotted the rationality in her out.
"Celine—Celine, what happened?" she tried, but she felt so quiet, so helpless.
Clary head a loud inhale, Celine blurting distorted, cracked words, "Camille, Clary. I was working, because I'm always working and every day it's the same and nothing happens." She made a noise of the greatest pain, and the tears in Clary's eyes made everything so blurry. "And today, I get a phone call from the hospital telling me Camille—my daughter, was about to die today because of some fucker texting on the highway. I didn't know I was her emergency contact; I always thought it would be you." Clary couldn't see and she couldn't speak and her body stopped. "She would want you here, Clary. When she wakes up."
"Text me the hospital's address," she said, and only because Celine's voice seemed to debilitate her, she hung up.
A/N: aaaah, it's so short but it was the best I could manage :/ I really fucking suck at updating, but my life has been so stupidly busy, I'm barely getting time to write :( Thank you for all the support nonetheless, it makes me all happy on the inside when everything around me gets pretty shit. I've got a competition in three days and I'm sick of preparing for it but wHaT cAn I dO ;-; I hate myself soo much bc I'm developing an anime craze aND I CAN'T GET OVER IT. I'm scaring myself tbh.
Lana Del Rey released an album today, and Clary's birthday was a week ago, and I keep reading TMI and TDA over and over, so :))))
I love you all, so much,
-RWMS