Breathless • Malec

xxiii. Alec

So, as most of you probably read in the little author's note last chapter, I've entered this story in the Wattys! So, if you happen to like this story, as always, please vote, comment and share! And, just a reminder that if any of you happen to like the songs in the beginning of the chapters, they are all listed at the very beginning of the book in the playlist. Thank you all so much for reading! 

xxiii. Alec

Magnus didn't seem alright.

In fact, he seemed to even be worse off than me, and that was saying a lot. As I turned to close the door, we locked eyes and for a moment, I didn't think I was going to be able to move. I thought I would be stuck.

After a week of being heartbroken, I had finally found the willpower to get up and do something, only to have all of that progress melt away as soon as I saw him. I hated that Magnus had that kind of power over me, and I didn't think that the power would ever fade away.

It had only been a week, but I was still nowhere even close to being slightly okay.

I guess I was hoping that this date with Clarkson would fix things, but after seeing him and knowing that I would have to try and be romantic and witty with someone who, well, wasn't Magnus made me feel sick to my stomach.

A million thoughts cascaded through my head as I kept looking, waiting, and hoping that he would do something.

Clarkson grabbed my hand, pulling me away as I closed the door.

"So, Alec," he smiled, still holding my hand. "Ready to embark on an adventure this evening?" He squeezed my hand, waiting for a response.

I desperately wanted to feel something. Anything. But as Clarkson held my hand, it became more and more apparent that what Magnus and I had was different. When Magnus held my hand, there were electric currents. When he looked at me, I felt like my heart cease to beat, because when I was with Magnus, I completely lost control of it. Nothing in my body worked for me when he was near.

I snapped myself out of it, digging my nails into my free palm. I needed this date to go well, no matter what I felt like. I had to dig myself out of the hole Magnus had buried me in.

Thinking back to the last voicemail I had left him, I tried to let the energy of those words flow through me. "Fuck him," I thought to myself. I needed to do this for me.

"Yes," I smiled back at Clarkson. "Let's go."

~~~~~~~

"So, where are we going again?" I asked, shivering slightly as we walked down the sidewalk towards the center of town. It was getting warmer out as the end of the school year came near, but it was still chilly at night.

"My favorite restaurant," Clarkson said, swinging our hands as we headed towards the crosswalk.

"And where would that be?"

He turned to me, running his hand through his springy blond curls. "Well, I heard about it online, so I guess it's not my favorite, yet, but my idol recommended it, and I want to check it out."

I raised an eyebrow. "Who's your idol?"

Clarkson adjusted his glasses quickly, pushing them up the bridge of his nose and then shoved his hand into his jeans pocket. "Oh, uh, it's probably no one you would know," he said nervously.

I almost pressed further, but was acting weird about it, so I decided not to. I shrugged. "So, you're studying French?" I asked him. "Do you want to teach it?"

He scoffed. "Oh, Alec. I'm not just learning French. I'm immersing myself in French culture. Nobody would really understand it," he rambled. "And I doubt you would, but I'm sophisticated," he smiled at me like I was a ten year old trying to understand quantum physics. "I just really identify with their culture. It's so much more profound and deep than the way you Americans live."

I tilted my head, not knowing if he was joking or if he was really this much of a pretentious asshole.

"So you're not going to do anything with your degree?" I asked him. "What kind of job do you want after college?"

He shrugged. "I want to move to France, but I'll probably just move back to my hometown and write poetry. My parents just wanted me to go to college for something and they agreed to pay for my four years."

I stared at him. "Oh," I said, freeing my hand from his and itching my other arm. "That's... nice."

I began to draft a text to Jace asking for him to rescue me from this situation. Maybe he could call and say the dorm was flooded.

"Ready to eat?" he asked me, gesturing to the building in front of us. It was brick and an old, red neon sign spelled out "Chesterman's Cafe". It was possibly one of the most hipster style places I had ever seen.

I nodded, taking a deep breath. I just had to get through this date, and then I would never have to talk to him again.

He led me through the doors into a small, dingy room. The walls were chipped with beige paint and I could smell the grease from the kitchen. It was packed with guys who looked similar to Clarson. Vintage clothes, curled, purposely messed up hair and glasses. There were groups of tall, wooden tables scattered across the dining room.

We sat across from each other at a table near the back, right next to a window. "This is a nice place," I sat leaning forward. Although it lacked a nice coat of paint and could possibly use a little cleanup in the kitchen, it had a very cozy feel to it.

Instead of replying, he held his hand high in the air and snapped. "We need a waitress," he yelled.

I furrowed my eyebrows together. "It's okay," I said. "We just got here and besides, it looks like it's busy."

"This is shitty service," he grumbled, narrowing his eyes at a waitress who was scurrying over.

"Hi," she smiled. "Would you like a menu?" she asked us, pulling some out of her apron.

"No," Clarkson responded sarcastically. "We came here to eat and we don't want a menu."

I glared at him. "Chill out," I said. "I'm sorry," I told the waitress as I sat up.

"Where are you going?" Clarkson asked me as I began walking towards the exit.

I turned to face him. "I don't go on dates with people like you. Sorry that we didn't work out. Maybe next time, try and find a fellow asshole to date."

"No!" he yelled, standing up to chase me down. "Alec, please, I'm sorry."

"Well, I don't really care that you're sorry."

"Alec," he said, this time calmer. "I know you're friends with Magnus Bane. Why don't we talk about him? Actually, when I was talking about my idol earlier," he paused, grinning. "I was talking about Magnus. He used to come here sometimes. I absolutely love his instagram feed."

"You have got to be kidding me," I whispered to myself exasperatedly. "Really?" I asked him. "Was that the only reason you asked me on this date?"

He shook his head. "I mean, it was a factor," he admitted. "But you're very hot!"

"I'm done," I said. "Please, for the love of God, do not follow me. Either in real life, or online."

I walked out of the restaurant. As I emerged from the doors, I leaned against the brick wall, pulling on my hair.

So stupid, I thought. Even when I was trying to get away from Magnus, he still found a way to get to me.

I wasn't ready to go home yet when my phone began buzzing. Without looking at the caller I.D., I picked up.

"Hello?" I said.

"Alexander," he said. "It's me, Magnus."

I didn't say anything, almost too stunned to function. I had imagined him calling me back so many times in the span of the week, but this was when I had least expected it.

"Can we talk?"