"Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz."

That's the sound that I wake up to at four in the morning, after working until well after midnight at my shitty job in a diner. My phone is ringing incessantly, vibrating beneath my pillow. I look at the too-bright screen with one eye open, and the other closed. I don't recognize the number.

Answering phone calls from people you don't know is a bad habit, especially in the middle of the night, but I do it anyways just in case it's an emergency. Also, I'm curious. "Hello?"

"Alec? It's Jace," a man's voice comes through. "You sound like a woman."

I sigh and throw one of my many pillows across the room. "I am a woman. I think you have the wrong number. Sorry."

"Alec, I'm really fucked up, don't mess with me."

"My name is Clary," I tell him.

His laugh is musical. "Alec, I can hardly hear you. My phone is going to die, and I need you to pick me up."

"I'm still not Alec," I groan.

"Great, I'll be waiting outside of the bar on Willow Street." Then he just hangs up. I try to call back twice, but it goes straight to voicemail. His phone must be dead, which is really tragic since he's drunk and wandering the streets of New York City at 4 AM.

I groan, and I hear my roommate moving around the living room of our two bedroom apartment. He never goes to sleep before six in the morning. Kicking the blankets off, I go out to find him playing Dance Dance Revolution, which is really embarrassing. When he sees me, he stops, wide eyed, and bows his head in shame. "Don't judge me."

Stifling a laugh, I tell him: "I won't tell anyone, on one condition."

"Go on…"

"Just come with me," I tell him.

Simon cocks his head to the side. "At this hour? Where are we going? On an adventure?"

"I need to pick someone up, and I don't want to drive around by myself in the middle of the night."

"Who are we picking up?" he asks suspiciously.

"We're picking up…Jace."

"Clary, I know literally everyone that you know, and I've never heard that name before."

I take a moment, trying to think of any reasonable explanation, but there is none. "I'll explain on the way. I can't just leave him out there."

Simon keeps glancing suspiciously at me over his shoulder all the way to my car. "Well?" he says as he settles into the passenger seat, obviously waiting for the explanation I promised him.

"Well what?" I deflect.

Simon glares. "Are you going to explain?"

I don't start talking until we're out on the road, so Simon won't be able to back out of our deal. "He dialed the wrong number because he's drunk."

"We're picking up a drunk stranger?!" he yells, looking at me like I'm an idiot. "Why the hell didn't you just tell him it was the wrong number?"

I shrug, momentarily pretending to be consumed in turning left. "I tried to, but he wasn't listening, and then his phone died. I don't feel right about leaving him there, waiting for a ride that's not coming, Simon."

I hear Simon groan, and he rolls his window down halfway so he can vape without clouding up the windshield. "This isn't safe, Clary. You've gone completely insane."

I smile innocently at him. "That's why I brought you—safety in numbers." He isn't convinced, but knowing that it's too late to back out and that he can't let me go alone, he slumps back into his seat, defeated. "Also, there's a gun in the glove box, pepper spray on my keychain, and I know you've got a knife in your pocket. What's the worst that could happen?"

"We could still get murdered."

"I love you because you're always so optimistic and you've got this sunny disposition. It's great!" I over exaggerate my enthusiasm. "We won't get murdered, but he might if we just leave him outside of a bar, drunk and alone, in the middle of the night. We'd both feel like complete and utter shit if we saw that on the news in the morning, knowing we could have done something to help him."

"Ugh. Fine, but if I even think he's shady we are leaving his ass behind, and if he tries anything I'm going to cut him."

"I love it when you pretend to be intimidating," I comment cheerily. "We're here," I say, pointing to the big lit up sign in front of the bar Jace said he was waiting outside of.

We pull into the parking lot and there are people filtering out, stumbling into their respective taxi cabs. "Which one are we picking up?" Simon asks. "What was your plan?"

I shrug and remove the key from the ignition. "I'll find him," I assure him with false confidence.

"How?" he asks, like a total downer. "You've never even seen the guy. Do you have any idea what he even looks like, or where exactly he'll be waiting? This is a bad idea, Clary."

Ignoring him, I get out of the car and hit the lock button until it honks to signify that it's definitely locked. "It'll be fine."

With Simon following hesitantly behind me, I begin to ask people if they are Jace.

"If that's who you want me to be," one answers. Simon steps protectively between us, glaring and emitting a low growl until the guy goes away. It's actually kind of impressive.

I see a guy leaning against the wall, repeatedly trying to turn his cell phone on. The dead phone gives me hope that maybe I've actually found the guy I'm looking for, and he's not hard on the eyes either. I approach him slowly. "Are you Jace?" I ask.

"I am," he answers, his voice slurring a little. "But you are not Alec."

"You dialed the wrong number," I tell him. "Do you need a ride home?"

Jace pushes his mane of golden hair away from his eyes. "Is your friend going to glare at me the entire way there?"

I glance at Simon who is, in fact, giving him a sharp look. "Probably," I answer honestly.

Simon puts his hand on my arm and leans in to whisper in my ear. "I don't like this, Fray. Just let him call his friend from your phone, and let's go back home."

I shake his hand off of my arm. "We're already here." I turn back to Jace, looking up at him. "Come on."

"If you insist," Jace says, and shoves his dead phone into his pocket. "Where did you park?"

"Over there, by the hookers," Simon tells him factually.

"Hey," Jace protests. "They're really nice ladies. The shorter one offered me a blowjob earlier."

Simon looks at him like he's an idiot, but Jace and I burst out laughing. I hit the unlock button on my key fob and we hop into the car, with Jace in the back and Simon in the front seat next to me. "Where do you live?" I ask as we pull out of my parking space.

"Turn left," Jace answers, "then hook a right at the light."

I do as he says, passing by a plethora of drunk people stumbling into their respective cars. Hopefully with a designated driver, like respectable drunkards, but I have doubts.

We pull into an apartment complex and Jace leans forward between the two seats. "Hey, thanks for coming. That was really cool of you. Sorry for calling the wrong number."

I smile and turn in my seat. "We're happy to help. Have a good night, alright? Be safe, and make good choices."

Jace gets out of the car and Simon glares at me the whole way home.

The next time my phone buzzes is, thankfully, in the middle of the day. I don't recognize the number, but I have a bad habit of never ignoring phone calls.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this the cute redhead that I drunk dialed last night?"

"Is this Jace?" I wonder.

I hear him laugh. "It is. I'm looking for Clary."

"Hi, it's me." I smile like an idiot. "Do you need rescuing again?"

"No, this time I'm sober. I called to ask you on a date," he explains.

Don't squeal, Clary. That would be stupid. "Really?"

"Yeah. Maybe without your angry friend, this time."

"I'd love to."