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love.”
    “They are not like Brangelina,” Simon said. “What would you even call them? Algnus? That sounds like a foot disease.”
    “Obviously you would call them Malec,” said Beatriz. “Are you stupid, Simon?”
    “I will not be distracted!” said Julie. “Does Magnus have piercings? Of course he does; when would he miss an opportunity to shine?”
    “I didn’t notice, and even if I had noticed, I wouldn’t discuss it,” said Simon.
    “Oh, because people in the mundane world never obsess about celebrities and their love lives,” Beatriz said. “See also, Brangelina. And that boy band George is obsessed with. He has all kinds of theories about their romances.”
    “What . . . boy band . . . George is obsessed with?” Simon asked slowly.
    George looked shifty. “I don’t want to talk about it. The band’s going through some hard times lately, and it makes me too sad.”
    Far too many disturbing and upsetting things had happened to Simon today. He decided to stop thinking about George and the boy band.
    “I’m the one who grew up a subway ride from Broadway, I know people get too interested in celebrities,” he said. “But it’s weird for me when you girls obsess over Jace or Magnus. It’s weird when Jon trails after Isabelle with his tongue hanging out.”
    “Is George’s crush on Clary weird too?” asked Beatriz.
    “Is this Betray George Day, Beatriz?” George demanded. “Si, I may have had certain thoughts about certain pocket-size vixens, but I would never tell you about them! I don’t want to make it weird!”
    “Pocket-size vixens?” Simon stared. “Congratulations, you made it weird.”
    George hung his head in shame.
    “It’s weird for me because everybody acts as if they know famous people, but I really do know these people. They’re not images, like posters to hang on the wall. They’re not anything like you think they are. They have a right to privacy. It’s weird because I see everyone acting like they know who my friends are, when they only know a tiny bit of them, and it’s weird to see anyone acting as if they have some sort of claim on my friends and their lives.”
    Beatriz hesitated, then put her pen down. “Okay,” she said. “I can see it’s weird for you, but—it does come from everyone admiring what they’ve done. People act like they know them because they want to know them. And being admired means they have a lot of influence over other people. They can do a lot of good with that. Alec Lightwood is Sunil’s inspiration to be a Shadowhunter. And you, Simon. A lot of people follow you because they admire you. There might be some weirdness mixed in with being admired like that, but I think there’s more good.”
    “Oh, it’s not the same for me,” Simon mumbled. “I mean, I don’t even remember. I meant my friends. Including Alec, who is . . . my friend who doesn’t like me. They’re the special ones.”
    He couldn’t be cool and assured like Magnus or Jace. He didn’t know what Beatriz was talking about. Also he felt suddenly paranoid over whether people were wondering if he had piercings.
    Simon had no piercings. He used to be a musician in Brooklyn. He probably should have piercings.
    Beatriz hesitated another instant, then tore off the page she’d written on and rolled it into a ball. “You’re special too, Simon,” she said, and blushed. “Everybody knows that.”
    Simon looked at her red face and remembered George mentioning someone had a crush on him. He’d thought for a moment it might be Julie, and though it would be both bizarre and bizarrely flattering to have changed the heart of a Shadowhunter ice princess with his manly charms, he supposed Beatriz made more sense. He and Beatriz were really good friends. Beatriz had the best smile in the Academy. Simon would’ve been thrilled to have an attractive girl he was friends with get a crush on him, back in Brooklyn.
    He felt mainly awkward now. He wondered if he was