chapter 3

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I rummage through my bag to locate the keys to my apartment. I quickly unlock the door and step through the doorway.

"Tessa! You're back." Clary exclaims. She's sitting at the kitchen table, her laptop open and surrounded by books. "I thought you would come back earlier."

"I guess I lost track of time." At the memory of Will, my expression immediately scrunches up.

"What's wrong?"

I sigh, throwing my stuff down on the couch and washing my hands to make a sandwich. "The CEO, Will, I mean Mr. Herondale, he's the most arrogant son of a-"

"Okay calm down," Clary says wide eyed. "What happened?"

So I told her what had happened at the interview and how rude and entitled he was. She whistled when I was done. "I guess the money and power really got to his head, huh."

"He thinks he's hot shit," I say, surprising myself with my cussing. I never cussed. "He thought I wanted him." I shook my head. He really needed to be humbled.

"Was he?"

"Was he what?"

"Was he hot?" Clary asked. I almost choked on my sandwich.

"God, no!" I exclaimed. "He's absolutely terrible and vile and-"

"I didn't ask if he was nice, I asked if he was hot," she smirks.

I bite my lip. "He is a little hot," I relent. "But his personality completely ruins it."

"A little?" Clary reaches for her laptop and types something in. Her mouth drops.

"Tessa, he's ridiculously hot." She turned her laptop to me. It was a Google image of Will with two older figures. They both had extremely black hair; I assumed they were his parents. To the left of the picture was a girl, who looked to be about my age. She also had black hair and blue eyes that were the exact shade of Will's. She must be his sister. My eyes went to the blonde haired figure to Will's right.

"Hey I saw him! At the office," I say while pointing at the blonde.

"That's Mr. Herondale's cousin, Jace Herondale," Clary says, reading the description. "He's so dreamy."

"No ones family should be this attractive, it's not fair," I mutter while examining Will in this picture. He was dressed in black shirt and jeans. He looked collected and arrogant, standing side by side with his cousin. The shirt strained against his build. His hair was messy. His eyes were so blue, like the blue of the sky on a sunny day.

I sit upright and shut Clary's laptop closed. "I'm going to start writing the paper," I announce.

"Okay, and when you're done let's study for finals together," Clary chirps.

I give her a small smile. "That sounds great."

Much to my relief, we don't mention Will again that evening. I sit at the dining table with Clary and, while she studies for exams, I work on my article on the interview from today.

By the time I email my final draft to the London University's newspaper editor, it's midnight, and Clary has long since gone to bed. I make my way to my room, exhausted, but proud of myself that I've accomplished so much for a Monday.

I curl up in my bed, wrapping my blanket around me. I close my eyes and I'm instantly asleep. That night I dream of cold granite floors and blue eyes.

.

For the rest of the week, I dedicate myself to my studies and my job at Hatchard's bookshop. Clary is busy too, compiling her collection of artwork for a spread she's doing while also cramming for her finals.

On Wednesday, I call my Aunt Harriet in New York to check on her. I had also missed the sound of her voice and needed to be wished good luck for my finals.

"How are things, dear?" Her motherly voice is full of endearment. I miss her so much sometimes that my heart aches.

"I'm great." I tell her about school and work, and Clary and Jem. Jem was one of my dearest friends, and Aunt Harriet adored him. She loved Clary as well.

"Tessa, have you met someone yet?" she asks me eagerly.

I sigh. "No, Aunt Harriet. You'll be the first to know if I do."

"You really need to get out more. You're an adult! You need to meet new people."

"I'm fine as is. How's Nate?" I try and switch gears. I didn't feel like having my non existent dating life scrutinized by Aunt Harriet. I also was genuinely curious about Nate, who was my older brother.

"He's at school now. I'll let him know you called," she tells me.

"Is he still seeing that girl?" I ask out of curiousity.

"Jessamine? Yes, she's a lovely girl. I've had the pleasure of meeting her a few times. I really like her, and I think Nate does too," Aunt Harriet chuckles.

I nod, happy to hear that my brother is happy. We chat for a few more minutes and we bid each other goodbye. I hang up the phone.

.

Friday night approaches, and Clary and I are debating what to do with our evening— Clary wants to go out clubbing and I just want to stay in to watch a movie—when the doorbell rings.

Standing on our doorstep is my good friend Jem, holding three coffees in his hand.

"Hey Jem! Great to see you!" I give him a quick hug. "Come in."

Jem is the first new friend I made when I arrived to London. We had many classes together, and I noticed that he would always sit at the front of the room, like me. One day he asked me out to get coffee as friends. We've been friends ever since and we worked at Hatchard's together.

Jem was kind and compassionate. He tended to be soft spoken but very observant and intelligent. Jem is studying medicine and is the first in his family to make it to college. He moved from Beijing to London when he was twelve to pursue an education here. He's one of the smartest people I know, as well as the most talented. He's extremely good at playing the violin.

"I've got news," he announces while grinning.

"What is it?" I ask interestedly.

"I'm playing a solo in a concert in the fall, at the Thames Auditorium."

"That's amazing Jem!" I give him a hug.

"Congratulations!" Clary beams.

"Both of you have to come." He looks at us both eagerly.

"Of course," I smile back at him.

Jem is like my second brother. There was a time when both of us had the potential to be more than just friends, but that simply hadn't worked out. But that was a long time ago, and we're both extremely good friends now.

Clary often teases me that I "let him get away from me" but I just don't think he's the right person for me. He was sweet and funny, but something about us just wouldn't work out.

I watch Jem sit down on the couch with Clary. He's tall, and in his jeans and t-shirt he's all lean shoulders and muscles, dark hair and kind dark eyes.

Shaking my thoughts away, I join them, throwing a bag of popcorn at Clary as she finds a movie for the three of us to watch.

When the movie finishes two hours later, it is dark out and Clary has fallen asleep on my chest. Jem gets up.

"That was fun," he smiles at me. I smile back.

"Goodnight. Thanks for coming by," I tell him and he heads out the door.

Not wanting to wake up Clary, I fall fast asleep on the couch.

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