This is the product of staying up past midnight on a school night. Also, it's based on a Tumblr post. Shoutout to IWriteNaked for beta'ing and also for coming up with the title and promising me a picture of her crying tears of joy because I chose it. Anyway, yeah. This is a one-shot, as stated in the description, so it won't be continued. Hope you like it!

I'm awkward by nature.

But I'm even more awkward when I'm on the phone.

Of course, my best friend knows this. Both of them do, actually. Which is why they hand me the phone and tell me it's my turn to order the pizza.

I despise them.

I call Domino's and wait as the phone rings twice before a male voice answers. "This is Domino's Pizza. How may I help you?"

"Hi. Yeah, I'd like to order some pizza." I try to block the sound of my best friends snickering, but it's sort of impossible.

"Delivery or carry-out?"

"Delivery."

"What's the address?"

Isabelle and Simon's snickers turn into full-blown laughter as I stumble through my address. I glare at them as I read the order they wrote down for me.

"I'd like two medium pizzas. One would be pepperoni, and the other chicken and bacon."

"Would you like breadsticks and soda?"

I flip my friends off and leave the room. Would it kill them to be quiet? "Yes, please." I'm fidgeting, not really thinking by this point. It's Friday, and school was hell, and I'm exhausted.

He gives me the total and says, "Your pizzas should be there in approximately half an hour."

"Thanks." And then, for some unknown reason I can't quite fathom, I blurt out, "I love you."

Oh. My. God.

It's like when you call your teacher your mom, or when you say "thank you" to someone who has already said it, or when you say something completely dumb/redundant/repetitive to someone and then you walk away fast with your head down in shame and your cheeks burning. That is what's happening.

But, for some reason, I keep my phone glued to my ear.

"I love you too," he says flippantly. "But this doesn't mean you get a discount."

"Oh my God."

"Have a nice day, lover."

"Um, you too."

I hang up on him and try not to think about the bizarre experience. Oh my god. Of course, when I come into the room, Isabelle and Simon are looking at me with a questioning look on their faces. They're expectant. Fuck.

"So, I told the pizza guy I love him," I tell them, my tone casual.

"Oh my God," Isabelle says.

"You did what?" Simon asks.

"And then he said he loves me back. And no, Isabelle, I didn't get a discount."

"I'm telling you, it usually works."

"That's…" I shake my head. "Listen, it was too awkward. I'm never ordering pizza on the phone. Ever. Again."

"You just need to practice," Simon says gently. "Besides, it's fine. You'll never see the pizza dude again."

When the pizza arrives thirty-five minutes later, I'm glad to see it is a woman making the delivery.

I pay for the pizzas and take them up to the apartment. My friends are in the kitchen, anxiously waiting for the pizzas—and for any news on whether the delivery person was the boy I professed my undying love for.

I open the pizzas, surprised to see writing all over the top part of the inside of the cardboard box. I try to read it, but grease is stuck to some parts of it. It is, however, legible.

Hi,

So, I'm your new eternal lover. I just wanted to tell you that it's okay that you confessed your love to me. It was pretty cool. You don't get confessions like that when you work at a pizza place. (Most people call to complain.)

Also, you sound adorable when you're flustered.

-Your new lover

P.S.: My name is Jace

P.P.S.: Come find me sometime

"What is it?" Isabelle is trying to get a glance at the writing, but I shut the cardboard box immediately.

"They delivered cheese instead of chicken and bacon," I lie. "I'm gonna go over there and file a complaint or whatever. It's only, like, two blocks down."

"O-kaaaay, Clary." Isabelle clearly knows that I'm lying, because she saw the pizza, but she doesn't say anything as I put on some shoes and throw a coat on. Probably because it means she gets to make out with Simon, but still.

"I'll be right back."

"Don't you need the pizza, Clary?" Simon looks genuinely puzzled.

"Nah. I can eat cheese. I just wanna file the complaint."

"You're so weird."

I grab my phone and keys from the counter, because I have this part of me that's telling me that, if I don't do this now, I'll never do it. And that would suck, because he sounded like a babe, and he wrote me a note. And he has nice handwriting, unlike me.

I realize that all I know about him is his name and where he works and a couple of dots with a few possibly connecting lines, but I need to see his face. I have to thank him, at least.

The air is cold and harsh. The first days of winter always make my bones freeze up and my eyes water against the harsh air, but I keep going. In ten minutes, I'm in front of the Domino's, suddenly fighting with myself. I mean, if I go in, how will he know it's me? What will I even say? I'm acting on some stupid impulse I can't even name or justify.

Which is why it's an impulse. Duh, Clary.

I have a ten-dollar bill tucked in my back pocket, so I decide to come up with a lame excuse. My friends want chocolate-covered breadsticks, I picture myself saying to him. I say it enough times in my head so it sounds convincing and then make my way inside.

All of my bones feel like they're defrosting after being stuck in a freezer for too long. I walk up to the counter, feeling way too nervous. Why am I doing this? I want to leave, but a part of me—a very dominant part of me—is anchored here, begging me to stay and not taking no for an answer.

Before I know it, I've made it to the front of the line and am facing a guy whose nametag says Jace. My heart is beating like crazy, and I wonder if he'll recognize me when I speak.

"Welcome to Domino's Pizza. May I take your order?"

He's gorgeous. Like, he could be a model. I never understood why some girls referred to boys as simply "pretty" until right now, because he's every positive adjective ever—pretty (because of his angelic features, since he has glorious blond hair and honey-colored eyes that melt me), hot, gorgeous, attractive, handsome. He's pretty much everything I could've hoped for and more, basically.

And I'm even more embarrassed now.

"Um, yeah. I want some chocolate-covered breadsticks, please."

"Sure thing," he says, and then leans over to whisper something. "Lover."

I bury my face in my hands. "Oh my God." I sneak a peak at him by separating two fingers. "How did you know it was me?"

"I heard your voice over the phone. And you look as flustered as I pictured right now."

"Jesus Christ."

"Do you really want those breadsticks?"

"I told my friends I would get them, so I probably should." I hand him the ten-dollar bill. I lied, technically, but I probably shouldn't go back empty-handed.

"They'll be ready in about five minutes." Jace gives me my change, and, seeing as there's no one else in line, continues talking to me. "I meant what I said, you know. It's no big deal."

"This is so embarrassing."

"Don't be embarrassed. Honestly. I thought it was cute. And, hey," he adds, "I said it back, didn't I?"

I make a dying sound and close my eyes. "I'm Clary, by the way."

He laughs from behind the counter. "You're okay, Clary."

"I'm so awkward."

"Do you wanna go out sometime?"

Talk about random. "What?"

"Well," he says, "I think you're cute. And we've already gotten ahead of ourselves by spouting out the L word. So, really, I think it's about time we go out for a cup of coffee."

"Coffee." I nod appreciatively. "Good choice."

"Is that a yes?"

I'm sure that my cheeks are the color of the tomatoes painted on Domino's Pizza's "Fresh Ingredients" advertisements. "Definitely. Hand me a napkin."

"Bossing me around already."

I roll my eyes and ignore his comment. When he hands me a napkin, I write down my phone number and hand it over. "Because if I have to contact you one more time," I explain, "I might have a heart attack."

His smile is seriously the best thing in the world. He shows his teeth and shakes his head, handing me my breadsticks. "I'll be seein' you around, lover."

"I really wish you'd stop saying that."

"Oh, but my heart burns for you."

"You couldn't have gone for aches, could you?"

"Not big enough."

"Oh my god."

"I'll call you as soon as I'm out of work."

"Really," I say to him. "I'd prefer texting."

"But why would I do that when I could take the chance of you professing your love toward me once more?"

I roll my eyes. "Okay. But I'll be waiting for that phone call."

"My shift's over in an hour."

"Until then, Jace."

"Bye, lover." Amusement gives a spark to his eyes, and I shake my head at his ridiculousness as I make my way out of Domino's Pizza with a smile on my face.

Let me know what you think!