21: Cristina

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I stood in the training room, an hour after Clary, Jace, and Isabelle had left. Tessa, Will, and Jem had left again, too. I figured that the three of them wanted to be alone, together, though Tessa had spent a lot of time with James and Lucie, before they had left. I held four knives in my hand, and I set myself up in front of the target.

I still felt very upset about Jaime coming here, and I needed to let it all out. So I decided to do what I always did. Train. I lifted up a knife, aimed, closed my eyes, and threw it. I opened my eyes, to see that it had landed in the very centre of the target. I smiled to myself. I used to practice throwing knives almost everyday with Jaime, back in Mexico.

"Impressive." A voice said from behind me.

My smile disappeared. I knew whose voice that was. I always would.

"What are you doing here?" I asked coldly, not bothering to turn around.

"I wanted to come and talk to you." Diego said. "Jaime wanted to, but I said I would. I thought you would have preferred me."

I almost laughed. "I actually prefer neither of you."

"Cristina, I know you're upset, but--"

"Upset doesn't even cover it." I threw another knife. It hit the middle of the target. "Why would you invite him here?"

"I thought you would want to see him." Diego confessed.

"And what would make you think that? The way I happily embraced you when I saw you here for the first time?" I said sarcastically.

"I just thought that maybe it would bring back memories. From when we were happy." He said.

I stopped midway through throwing another knife, and turned to look at him. Diego was looking at me, affection in his eyes. He still loved me, I knew, but my feelings had gone away. I had Mark.

"You want me to come back to Mexico." I spoke, reading his thoughts. "You brought Jaime here, to remind me of all we had there. The three of us."

"Yes. I did." Diego said. "I'm afraid you won't come back after your year is over, here."

"Why does it matter? You're a Centurion now. You're never even home." I pointed out.

"Next year, I'm coming back home. Around the same time as you." Diego said.

"Maybe I will stay here. There's nothing for me at home." I stated.

"Of course there is. There's me, Jaime, your mother--"

"I love her, but you know how madre is, she'll never let me go anywhere again. And I don't have you or Jaime. I don't want to have you or Jaime." I finished.

"I was telling the truth, Cristina, Jaime didn't mean those things." Diego sighed.

"What about all those girls, Diego?" I questioned.

"Which ones?" He asked, after a few seconds.

I scoffed. "Idiota, don't play dumb. You knew I loved you, and you loved me, and yet you still fooled around with every girl you could find. How can you explain that?"

"I made a mistake, Tina, we all do." He looked sad. "I've made a lot, I know, and I'm so sorry."

"Why couldn't you have told me that in Mexico? Why has it taken all this time?" I glared.

I knew that I was acting very harsh, but Diego had caused me so much pain, and I just couldn't hold back.

"Because now I've finally realized it." He admitted. "And I'm so sorry."

"Why did you become a Centurion?" I asked him suddenly.

"You know that I've always been interested in studies, rather than training." Diego said.

It was true, I did. When I lived in the Mexico Institute, you could almost always find Diego in the library. Jaime and I would always tease him about being a bookworm. Ratón de biblioteca, we would say.

"I became one after you left. There was no reason to stay, anymore." He admitted.

Diego looked at me sadly. "Te extrañe"

I sighed. "I missed you, too, even when I didn't want to."

"Please give me one last chance." Diego pleaded. "I love you, still."

"I don't feel that way about you, anymore, Diego. You have to know that." I told him sadly.

He then looked bitter. "You're dating the Fey boy, aren't you?"

"His name is Mark." I snapped, and then my tone softened. "I love him."

"You know what the Clave will do if they find out, Cristina." Diego warned.

"I don't care." I stated. "I'd rather be with him for as long as I can, rather than never at all."

"You're choosing him over me?" Diego sounded annoyed.

"I'm not choosing him. There was never anything to decide, because I don't love you, anymore." I spoke seriously.

"How did you move on so quickly?" He asked.

"It was all the hurt you caused me. One day, it just became too much, and I had had enough." I said softly.

"And I'm so sorry for that." He moved closer to me. "It kills me to know that I hurt you."

"You knew you were hurting me, Diego." I accused him. "You just didn't care."

"You can't think that." He said.

"You're right. I know it." I shot back.

"You're mother will want you to marry me." Diego said. "What will you do then?"

I shrugged. "I won't go back. It's Mark, Diego, and it always will be. I'm sorry."

Suddenly, in one swift motion, Diego's lips were pressed to mine. He held my waist tightly, and kissed me hard. To my horror, I found myself kissing him back. Stop! I screamed to myself, but I couldn't pull away from him. I then heard the door to the training open, and a voice.

"Cristina, do you want--" The voice was abruptly cut off.

I sprang apart from Diego, and to my horror, saw Mark standing in the doorway. He had gone pale, much more than he usually was. His eyes were wide, and he looked as if someone had punched him in the stomach.

"Mark, it's not what it--" I started frantically.

"It's quite funny." He began with bitter amusement. "Wherever I go, sadness and heartbreak seem to follow. Don't bother, Cristina, I'm used to this by now."

Mark then stormed off, and I watched him go, feeling as if my heart was being torn out of my chest. I stood there numbly. What had I done?

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