Half Truths

Developing Feelings

  Clary shivered and swiped a hand over her face, clearing away the freezing drops of water trailing over her cheeks. Through the haze of sleep, she wondered why her face was wet. Was she crying again? Holy hell, she must be PMSing because she never got that emotional. Drip, drip, drip. Three more chilly drops fell to her cheek, forehead, and eyelid. She wiped her face again and threw her arm over her eyes.

There, that should solve the problem , she thought to herself.

She sighed and tried to fall blissfully back to sleep, when a large plop of freezing wetness landed on her chin and slid down her neck, disappearing under her shirt. "Ahh!" she screeched, and bolted up, her eyes flying open, the bright morning sun making them water.

Everything appeared blurry and out of focus. Clary rubbed her eyes, trying to clear her vision. When she was finally able to see, she spied a goofy-faced Simon, grinning at her like a fool. It took her a moment to realize she was still in the loft, and he stood before her, dressed in a heavy coat, boots, stocking cap. In his hand, he held a large, badly formed snowball.

"Good morning, sunshine!" he exclaimed just before pelting her with the cold, mushy mess.

Freezing slush dripped down her shirt and plopped onto the floor. She looked up and narrowed her eyes. "Simon! I'm gonna kill you!" She stood, swiping the leftover bits from her clothing and pulling on her jacket.

"Gotta catch me first!" He rushed away from her and started down the stairs, slipping twice before reaching the bottom.

Clary chased after him, thrusting her hands through her gloves and taking the ladder two rungs at a time. Simon laughed and bolted through the barn doors, faster than Clary with his long-legged stride, but clumsier too. Just as he reached the snowy drive, he slipped and fell onto his face. Clary took the opportunity to scoop a bunch of snow in her hand, form it into a ball and throw it expertly, hitting Simon on the side of the head.

"Ooof!" he said when Clary jumped on his back, shoveling handfuls of snow down the back of his coat. "Uncle! Uncle!" he cried through laughter.

Clary slid off his back and lay on the ground next to him. He hurriedly shook all of the snow from between his clothing and his body, and plopped down beside her, his breathing ragged. Clary glanced around at the white frosted scenery, remembering the last time she'd been there in the winter. A pang of sadness shot through her when she recalled what she'd found out the night before. Before she could say anything, her eyes fell on Luke's truck in the driveway, and she noticed something wasn't quite right. She sat up, furrowing her brows in its direction, when it finally dawned on her.

"Where's the car?" she asked.

Simon turned in the direction where the car had been parked and shrugged. "I don't know. Jace took it."

Clary frowned and glanced back at him. "What?" She'd noticed he wasn't there when she woke, but figured he'd just gone in the house to use the restroom or get breakfast.

Simon shrugged. "He was gone before I woke up. Isabelle said he left."

"Where did he go?"

"How should I know? He's your boyfriend not mine—not that I'd have a boyfriend, but if I did, he wouldn't be my first choice. No offense."

Swiping the snow off her legs, Clary rolled her eyes and stood, reaching down to help Simon up. He took her hand, and she heaved on it, pulling him onto his feet. Frozen patches clung to his jeans and she helped him wipe them off. Together, they walked back to the house, the winter covering already melting in the morning sun. Drops from icicles on the eaves dripped, and piles of grey slush plopped down from branches.