I went back to reread this story and realized that I really hate reading things that are in the first person, and every other thing I've written in my life has been in the third person. So I really wanted to update this, and try to breathe new life into this story, and to hopefully make it more enjoyable for my readers. Admittedly, not much changed except typos and POV in this chapter, but that won't necessarily be true for further chapters. Also, the chapters are now named and follow the style of 'Proffesor Wayland and..."

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

The sun shines brightly through her curtains, a ray of light piercing her last moments of sleep. Rolling over, Clary grabs for her phone to check the time. 8:15am. Late. She is already late.

As quickly as she can, she pulls on her jeans and tosses on a t-shirt that had been laying on the rumpled bed. With no time for much else she throws her hair into a bun and runs to the front door. Feeling as if she's forgetting something, she rushes to the bathroom to brush her teeth. 'God, I'm a mess,' she thinks to herself as she glances in the mirror.

15 minutes and almost a mile later, Clary is pulling open the door to room 331C with just a moment to spare. She breathes a quick sigh of relief that she's not late and notes that there are very few students in the room and no professor in sight. However, sitting in the front row is a disgruntled Simon, her best friend, glowering menacingly in her direction. She can only pray he hadn't waited very long for her this morning at the coffee shop, where she hadn't shown.

Making her way towards him, she nonchalantly smiles and says hello.

"Well, at least you came to class." His voice is hard, but his face has relaxed. She gives him a light punch in the shoulder and takes the seat next to him. And they are both hoping their professor won't make them move into assigned seating.

"I'm sorry I missed our date at Taki's this morning. I was so late waking up," she glances at Simon apologetically, hoping to earn his forgiveness and maybe even a smile. "It's not a big deal," he waves it off. "I know you were out late last night at your moms gallery opening." It was true, her mom had been working for months on an exhibit and last night she finally was able to have her debut. Last night had been exhausting for the both of them, and to make matters worse they hadn't arrived home until well after midnight. At least her showing had been a success, she sold all put one painting. That painting though, hadn't been for sale.

"Speaking of last night, where were you?" Clary questions. Simon was supposed to come and support her mom, but had never shown up. His face colors with a blush and he ducks his head. Before she can question him further on the matter the door to the classroom swings open and a veritable god steps into the room. He is gorgeous. Clary's pulse quickens and, in her haste to sit up straight, almost falls out of her chair. Simon grasps her arm, "Are you okay?"

Embarrassed, she nods slightly and turns her attention back to the man in the doorway. With a quick smile he addresses the class with a wave and moves to the desk in the far corner of the room. He picks up a stack of papers and passes them down the front row.

"My name is Professor Wayland and what I am passing out is a quiz to test your knowledge of World History." He pointedly ignores the groans and the eye rolls and continues, "When everyone has their quiz please direct your attention to the projector and follow the prompts on the screen. After you've finished bring it to me and I'll grade it" The sound of the projector whirring to life fills the otherwise silent room and Clary tries to focus solely on the sheet of paper in front of her. However, her gaze continues to wander to the god, who is now sitting quietly behind his desk.

Every nerve ending in her body is affected by his presence. Clary quickly finishes the quiz and basically runs it to him. As she turns to go he holds up his hand, "Stay. I'll grade it right now." She nervously twists the ring on her thumb as his eyes scan the paper. He takes a swig of water, and she watches, mesmerized, as his Adam's apple bobs. His eyes, she notices immediately, appear to be bright swirls of gold. She blinks as they rise to meet her own and a grin spreads across his face. "Nicely done," he says, handing her back the paper that now has a stark red 'Perfect' across the top. A feeling of accomplishment flows through her as she turns to go back to her seat, noting that she was still the only one done.

She watches the golden professor as he watches the other students with concern. His brow furrows and he runs a hand through his long, blonde locks. All of a sudden, his eyes jerk and met hers, again, across the room. Her body suddenly feels overly warm and by the time she regains her thoughts he has already looked away. Slowly students begin to rise from their chairs to turn in their papers. After what seems like an eternity everyone is finally done.

"Now that everyone has completed the quiz I would like to split you into groups." Annoyed, she twists towards Simon who, in turn, rolls his eyes. They hate working in groups. Every group that they'd ever been a part of had been terrible, as they always ended up doing all the work. "I am not going to split you up based on anything except where you are seated. So the first five people in each row are in a group and the the next five people are in group number two and so on. Please figure it out."

Everyone seems to scramble into their groups to talk quietly amongst themselves. Professor Wayland then goes on to explain the project that they will be working on for the rest of the semester.

When Professor Wayland dismisses class Simon and Clary decide to head back to her mom's apartment until their next class. She planned on grilling him on where he had been last night, but not before she got some food in her system. Skipping breakfast, while not by choice, had been a big mistake. Walking in to the apartment she sees that her mom is still asleep in a chair. And Clary thought she slept in late, but her mom definitely has a leg up on her. Clary quietly ushers Simon to the kitchen to make a bagel and egg sandwich.

"Can I please get some coffee?" Simon asks almost silently. "Professor 'What's-his-face' nearly put me to sleep this morning."

"I can't believe the difference between him and his sister," he mutters it almost as an afterthought, but Clary still catches it. "His sister?" She raises an eyebrow. Much like earlier in class, his face turns bright red.

Now, however, there is no hot professor to stop Clary's line of questioning. "Simon, who is his sister?"

"No one. I just met her briefly, she was in the Brusar's Office when I went to try and drop her brothers class. She… talked me out of it." He stands up smiling to himself. Clary's mind is whirring, Simon might be into this girl who, coincidentally, has the hottest brother on the planet.

"Do you like her?"

"I barely even know her!" He retorts, "I'd like to get to know her though. She was smokin'. That's who I was with last night actually. I really am sorry I missed the showing."

Clary has never heard him say that about someone before. Normally, Simon is so, well, awkward and doesn't really pay attention to girls. Except for her, but thankfully she had prevented that infatuation before it had gotten ugly. She supposes it's a good thing, he's never really connected with anyone. In the back of her mind she decide that she is, somehow, going to get them together. But, she doesn't even know this girls name, and she can only hope that she's not out of his league.

"No, it's okay. I guess we're equal now that I stood you up this morning. Although, in my defense, I was completely exhausted."