Chapter 11

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Clary POV

"I don't want to," I say as Jace as he suggests we go to this insanely fancy restaurant on a date.

"And why not," Jace asks as he lays next to me on my bed.

"Because I don't want those people looking at me with my scars like I'm some suicidal freak. And I don't want you to spend your money like that." I roll so I'm on top of Jace, basically straddling him. "You will find you don't have to try hard with me. As long as I'm happy, I don't care." I play with Jace's hair as I talk.

He grabs my hands and holds them while he looks me in the eye. "I want to. Besides, I've gotta make it up for being a dick."

I sigh and get off him. I sit at my desk and start working on a sketch. "You know, I think the new art supplies, second row tickets to the Halsey concert this summer--and I'm still wondering who the fuck you had to kill to get them--and all 11 seasons of Grey's Anatomy on dvds are enough apology."

"Yeah yeah. Hey, where do you keep your polaroid camera?" Jace asks as I hear him moving stuff around behind me.

"Um, I think it's in the top drawer of my night stand," I say not looking up. Ever since Jace found that old polaroid I bought and fixed up last year, he's been ridiculously interested in it.

"Hey, what's this?"

I turn to see what he means and freeze. I'm sure I'm noticeably paler and my eyes are probably huge. In Jace's hand is the suicide note I wrote six months ago. "N-nothing," I say standing up and trying to grab it. Jace just pulls it away.

"It doesn't sound like nothing," he says as he examines the envelope.

He can't find out about the note. I may have kept it as a reminder to stay strong, but Jace wouldn't see it that way. He'd think I was saving it for my next suicide attempt or was already planning to do it. I have to get that letter back.

"Just give it back, okay?" I say reaching for it once more. Yet again, he moves it, this time holding it up above his head.

"Why? Why is it so important?"

"It just is, okay?"

He smirks down at me slightly and I dread the moments to come. "How about, if I give it back, you have to let me take you to Bartolotta's."

I raise an eyebrow at him challengingly. "You're blackmailing me?"

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. But hey, if you don't want to go to dinner I could just read this--"

"No! Fine! I'll go to dinner! Now give me the note!" He laughs and hands it to me. As soon as it's in my hand I smack the side of his head. "If you ever try using this letter like that again, I'll skin you alive then hang you by the pathetic remains of your big toes," I threaten.

Jace laughs nervously knowing I'm barely kidding. "I'll pick you up at 6:30."

___/\_____/\_____/\_____/\_____/\_____/\___

We walk into the restaurant together with Jace's arm wrapped lightly around my waist. I managed to find a black skater dress with 3/4 sleeves that covers most of my scars. I got nervous about the large and noticeable scars on my wrists from my attempt, so I covered them with silver bracelts. Otherwise, I'm wearing black healed boot pumps, a navy necklace with a silver chain, a black and silver double earing set, my nose stud, and a hoop on my left cartilage. Yes, I got another piercing. But hey! Don't judge me! Anyway, my hair is in a semi messy bun towards the top of my head. Somewhat heavy makeup decorates my face.

"I hope you know I am extremely out of place here," I say to Jace as we hand our coats to the coat check guy.

He just chuckles softly. "You'll be fine Clary. Trust me. It will be worth it." He walks to the concierge podium. "Herondale, party of two," he tells the hostess.

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