Clary tugged at the ribbons in her hair. She hated them, but Jocelyn said that they brought out the green in her eyes. Clary wanted to go home. The other children had been giving her mean looks. She had only been at St. Francis's Kindergarten for 10 minutes and she already hated it. She wanted it to be over, and go home.
"Okay, kids. My name is Miss Heartley, and I'm going to be your teacher. I've met some of you before, but I see some new faces as well. We're going to go around the room, and everyone will say their name and their favorite color." Clary tried to relax and pay attention to what the other kids' names were, but as it got closer and closer to her turn, anxiety crept up on her.
"And you are?" Miss Heartley said, pointing at Clary.
"Oh.. I'm C-Clary. I like dark green," she finished with a mumble. She was too embarrassed and flustered to pay attention to the other kids' introductions. How could she have acted so stupid? She would go to school with these kids for the next -she did the math in her head- 13 years! She listened to Miss Heartley's next instructions and tried to focus on the building blocks, but her mind continuously wandered to her looks. Everyone at this school seemed to have blond hair and blue eyes. Her artist's eyes picked up that there were different combinations of blond and blue, but there seemed to be no other combinations. She stuck out with the bright freckles that were splattered over her cheeks and shoulders. She was sure that they could see her fiery red hair from space ships. Besides for the lack of diversity, Clary noticed that problematically everyone seemed to already have their own group of friends. She hadn't realized that not having gone to preschool here would have such a big effect on the friendships she would make. She closed her eyes and tried to remember her mother's words. "Make the best of it. I just have to make the best of it,"she told herself.
"We are going to do some artwork now. Some of you will be better than others, but please be nice. We don't have enough crayons for everyone, but you are a very nice group. I know you'll be able to share well," Miss Heartley announced with a smile. Finally! Something that I'm good at! Clary had been longing for her sketchpad and beautiful set of colored pencils. She tried to contain her excitement, but ended up sprinting to the table where Miss Heartley was laying out the crayons and paper. Clary looked down at the few remaining crayons with scorn. They were certainly not the quality she was used to. She grabbed a piece of paper and dug through the crayons until she found at least one that looked usable. She sat and began to draw. She usually drew in silence or listening to her mother's music. Trying hard to concentrate on her drawing, she found her hand moving without her control. Clary let her hand be controlled by whatever force was giving it instruction.
"I'm sorry, class. I have to take a phone call. Please try to stay quiet while I'm gone," said Miss Heartley breaking Clary's concentration. Clary wanted to finish her masterpiece, but knew exactly color would make it look perfect. She scanned the room for the perfect color. She spotted in another boy's hand. He was furiously scribbling with it.
"What are you doing?! You're going to destroy that crayon!" Clary yelled. She knew that she shouldn't raise her voice, but the only color she could use to complete her masterpiece was lying in that boy's hand.
"What do you know? You weren't even here last year. Plus, you have weird marks all over your face!" he yelled back at her. Clary felt her cheeks heat up and her throat start to clench. She wanted to say something back, but she knew that the tears that she was holding back would spill onto her cheeks.
"Hey! That's not nice! Leave her alone," a small, scrawny boy said. Clary hadn't noticed him before. He had dark brown hair and matching eyes. She blinked away her tears and gave him a small smile.
"Is everything all right in here?" Miss Heartly asked, walking into the classroom. Clary nodded her head. The small smile didn't leave her face for the rest of the day.
"Clary! Wait up!" Clary heard a small voice call. She had been in a rush to walk back to she and her mother's apartment, and recount the events of the day to her best friend. Well, Jocelyn was her only friend.
"Thank you! I don't remember what your name is, but you helped me and I was thinking maybe we could be friends..." Clary said. She had meant to start out slow, but the words tumbled out of her mouth.
"No one should be treated like that. And my name is Simon. I don't have any friends at this school, but I would love to be your friend. I walk this way too. Maybe we could walk together?"
"I would like that," Clary said with a small smile. She grabbed Simon's hand, and they began walking through the streets of New York, talking about everything and nothing.
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