With more context we could narrow the answer and perhaps be more specific a little bit... So, if you have more to add to this excerpt it will be of help. Please bring more of it to the table, please.
Eu cortei as partes que não importavam para o entendimento da situação em questão, ficou grande, mas eu realmente espero que com isso você possa ter um melhor compreensão do contexto.
Jocelyn expelled a sigh. “We’re going on vacation.”
Luke’s expression went blank, like a canvas wiped clean of paint.
Clary shook her head. “That’s what this is about? You’re going on
Vacation?” She sank back against the cushions. “I don’t get it. Why the big
“I don’t think you understand. I meant we’re all going on vacation. The
Three of us— you, me, and Luke. We’re going to the farmhouse.”
“Oh.” Clary glanced at Luke, but he had his arms crossed over his chest
And was staring out the window, his jaw pulled tight. She wondered what
Was upsetting him. He loved the old farmhouse in upstate New York—he’d
Bought and restored it himself ten years before, and he went there
Whenever he could. “For how long?”
“For the rest of the summer,” said Jocelyn. “I brought the boxes in case
You want to pack up any books, painting supplies—”
“For the rest of the summer?” Clary sat upright with indignation. “I
Can’t do that, Mom. I have plans—simon and I were going to have a back-
To-school party, and I’ve got a bunch of meetings with my art group, and
Ten more classes at Tisch—”
“I’m sorry about Tisch. But the other things can be canceled. Simon will
Understand, and so will your art group.”
Clary heard the implacability in her mother’s tone and realized she was
Serious. “But I paid for those art classes! I saved up all year! You
Promised.” She whirled, turning to Luke. “Tell her! Tell her it isn’t fair!”
Luke didn’t look away from the window, though a muscle jumped in his
Cheek. “She’s your mother. It’s her decision to make.”
“I don’t get it.” Clary turned back to her mother. “Why?”
“I have to get away, Clary,” Jocelyn said, the corners of her mouth
Trembling. “I need the peace, the quiet, to paint. And money is tight right
“So sell some more of Dad’s stocks,” Clary said angrily. “That’s what
You usually do, isn’t it?”
Jocelyn recoiled. “That’s hardly fair.”
“Look, go if you want to go. I don’t care. I’ll stay here without you. I can work; I can get a job at Starbucks or something. Simon said they’re always
Hiring. I’m old enough to take care of myself—”
“No!” The sharpness in Jocelyn’s voice made Clary jump. “I’ll pay you
Back for the art classes, Clary. But you are coming with us. It isn’t
Optional. You’re too young to stay here on your own. Something could
“Like what? What could happen?” Clary demanded.
There was a crash. She turned in surprise to find that Luke had knocked
Over one of the framed pictures leaning against the wall. Looking distinctly
Upset, he set it back. When he straightened, his mouth was set in a grim
Line. “I’m leaving.”
The door flew open. Jocelyn gave a little scream.
“Jesus!” Luke exclaimed.
“Actually, it’s just me,” said Simon. “Although I’ve been told the
Resemblance is startling.” He waved at Clary from the doorway. “You
Ready?” Jocelyn took her hand away from her mouth. “Simon, were you
Simon blinked. “No, I just got here.” He looked from Jocelyn’s pale face
To Luke’s grim one. “Is something wrong? Should I go?”
“Don’t bother,” Luke said. “I think we’re done here.” He pushed past
Simon, thudding down the stairs at a rapid pace. Downstairs, the front
Door slammed shut.
Simon hovered in the doorway, looking uncertain. “I can come back
Later,” he said. “Really. It wouldn’t be a problem.”
“That might—” Jocelyn began, but Clary was already on her feet.
“Forget it, Simon. We’re leaving,” she said, grabbing her messenger bag
From a hook near the door. She slung it over her shoulder, glaring at her
Mother. “See you later, Mom.”
Jocelyn bit her lip. “Clary, don’t you think we should talk about this?”
“We’ll have plenty of time to talk while we’re on ‘vacation,’” Clary said
Venomously, and had the satisfaction of seeing her mother flinch. “Don’t
Wait up,” she added, and, grabbing Simon’s arm, she half-dragged him out
The front door.
He dug his heels in, looking apologetically over his shoulder at Clary’s
Mother, who stood small and forlorn in the entryway, her hands knitted
Tightly together. “Bye, Mrs. Fray!” he called. “Have a nice evening!”
“Oh, shut up, Simon,” Clary snapped, and slammed the door behind
Them, cutting off her mother’s reply.
“Jesus, woman, don’t rip my arm off,” Simon protested as Clary hauled
Him downstairs after her, her green Skechers slapping against the wooden
Stairs with every angry step. She glanced up, half-expecting to see her
Mother glaring down from the landing, but the apartment door stayed
“Sorry,” Clary muttered, letting go of his wrist. She paused at the foot of
The stairs, her messenger bag banging against her hip.
He slid a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Come on, I’ll buy you
Some food.” “I just can’t believe she’s being like this,” Clary said for the fourth time, chasing a stray bit of guacamole around her plate with the tip
Of a nacho. They were at a neighborhood Mexican joint, a hole in the wall
Called Nacho Mama. “Like grounding me every other week wasn’t bad
Enough. Now I’m going to be exiled for the rest of the summer.”
“Well, you know, your mom gets like this sometimes,” Simon said. “Like
When she breathes in or out.” He grinned at her around his veggie burrito.
“Oh, sure, act like it’s funny,” she said. “You’re not the one getting
Dragged off to the middle of nowhere for God knows how long—”
“Clary.” Simon interrupted her tirade. “I’m not the one you’re mad at.
Besides, it isn’t going to be permanent.”
“How do you know that?”
“Well, because I know your mom,” Simon said, after a pause. “I mean,
You and I have been friends for what, ten years now? I know she gets like
This sometimes. She’ll think better of it.”
Clary picked a hot pepper off her plate and nibbled the edge
Meditatively. “Do you, though?” she said. “Know her, I mean? I sometimes
Wonder if anyone does.”
Simon blinked at her. “You lost me there.”
Clary sucked in air to cool her burning mouth. “I mean, she never talks
About herself. I don’t know anything about her early life, or her family, or
Much about how she met my dad. She doesn’t even have wedding photos.
It’s like her life started when she had
Me. That’s what she always says when I ask her about it.”
"Aw.” Simon made a face at her. "That’s sweet.”
"No, it isn’t. It’s weird. It’s weird that I don’t know anything about my
Grandparents. I mean, I know my dad’s parents weren’t very nice to her,
But could they have been that bad? What kind of people don’t want to
Even meet their granddaughter?”