Clary's P.O.V

The redbrick building looms over me as I pull one of the main doors open with a resistant creek from the neglected hinges. The light oak reception desk sits over to my right side with piles and piles of paper littering its worn surface. A heavy door positioned behind the desk opens to reveal a short and frazzled middle-aged receptionist bumbling on about permission slips. I approach the desk as the woman rifles through drawers of paperwork with her glasses poised on the bridge of her nose, briefly skimming every page or two's contents from her selected pile. Defeated, her soft blue eyes fall on me and a gentle smile replaces her frown, "Can I help you, dear?" Her sing-song voice is like the tinkling of windchimes as she snatches up a pen from the disorganisation.

I smile politely, "Hi, I'm Clarissa Fairchild – I'm new."

"Oh…well if you give me a few minutes I'll print off your class schedule and arrange for a guide to take you where you need to go." Her manicured fingers blaze across the keys of the computer as she speaks before gliding on the desk chair over towards the printer. "There you are, your first class is in room 107. I'll have Isabelle take you up," She chaps on the door behind her, "If you have any questions at all or need directions to any of your classes I'll be here to point you in the right direction." She folds her arms on the desk and gives me a reassuring look which I answer with a grateful smile.

The door behind the receptionist opens and a tall slender girl looks me over with her curious brown eyes before beaming at me with a set of perfect pearly white teeth, "You must be Clarissa, I'm Isabelle but you can call me Izzy. I'll be showing you around – where are you first period?"

I glance down at the timetable in my shaking hands and will myself to stop being so nervous, "Room 107, English."

"You're in my class with dank breath Danvers, I swear that teacher is never without a cup of coffee close by," she wrinkles her nose at the thought and I chuckle lightly.

After Izzy grabs her bag we climb the stairs to the first floor. Izzy glides down the hallway with her gorgeous long legs and killer high heeled boots whilst I hasten to keep up with her pace, "I love your name by the way – It's so elegant and pretty," She comments turning to smile genuinely at me.

"Thank-you that's really sweet but I always think it's a bit of a mouthful. Most people just call me Clary."

"Well then Clary, how are you feeling about your first day at Evergreen High?"

I mull over her question before answering honestly, "I feel like I want to get it over with and projectile vomit at the same time. I'm not good with attention."

Izzy chortles and nods, "Oh I can imagine but trust me, all those new girl fears can take a backseat because I'm going to be at your side all day, ok?"

After a brief discussion about the play we were studying in English and what books I'd need, we stop outside a classroom where Izzy bounces in dragging me with her to the empty seat at her desk. Half way through the lesson I realise Izzy really wasn't overexaggerating Mr Danvers love for caffeine, as the overwhelmingly stale odour of coffee permeates my nostrils as he introduces himself and goes over the class syllabus. When he finally leaves, I shoot an exhausted look at Izzy who giggles in response, "Hey, we've actually got quite a few classes together. I'll get you from maths and we can eat lunch together if you'd like?" Content with my class schedule she slides it back over to me and starts packing away her pens and books. When she turns to face me I realise I haven't answered her question – Not everyone's like Nina I remind myself. I need to learn to trust people again.

"Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks."

She smiles brightly, "No need to thank me. I think we're going to be great friends Clary."

I feel a small smile tug at the corners of my lips, "Yeah, I think so too."

Jace P.O.V

Dodging past Marissa, the head cheerleader that feels she has a claim on me, I walk towards Biology. It's the one subject where I can just breathe without the expectations of the guys in the team who seem to be convinced I have the intelligence of a rock. In other classes, noising up teachers and getting detention is a regular occurrence but honestly, I hate it - but I have a team who looks to me to fill what they feel is the role of the captain of the football team.

I take my seat at the back of the classroom and begin pulling out the textbooks that were weighing down my bag. I pay no notice to the rest of the class as they filter in. This was an AP class so our numbers were smaller which suited me just fine – It's easier to concentrate that way. Mrs Grover stood at the front of the classroom and had just started going over the notes from yesterday when a small knock came from the other side of the door. "Yes? How can I help you?" Mrs Grover's voice is sweet and reassuring as she surveys the person standing outside the now open door.

"Hi, I'm Clary Fairchild. I think I'm meant to be in this class." I don't recognise the girls voice or name – She must be new.

Mrs Grover skims Clary's timetable before nodding, "Ah Clarissa, we were expecting you. Please, come in. There's only one seat left, it's up the back dear, next to Jace, I'll just sort out your notes and other things you'll need." Mrs Grover's arm swings in my direction, waving Clarissa over to the empty seat beside me. This is not good. I don't need another girl beside me in anymore of my classes. I prefer to sit alone, there's less chance of getting distracted. New or not, I'd found that many girls bumbled over the captain of the football team and I honestly think the title and the lettered jacket are the only reason I can't seem to evade them. Maybe thinking that way was pig-headed of me, but it had been tried and tested enough to know my theory was almost always right.

I finally look up from my highlighted notebook to see the girl I'd be sharing a desk with and felt some of the air in my lungs struggle to escape naturally. She was beautiful. Her flaming red hair cascaded down her shoulders in effortless waves, a stark contrast to her smooth ivory skin. A pair of bright green eyes blazed beneath long dark lashes as they followed Mrs Grover's motions towards the seat beside me. She was short and had all the right curves in the right places, her slender figure moving towards my desk. I swallow quickly and try to regain my composure as my eyes reluctantly find my notebook again – Maybe having a lab partner won't be as taxing when she looks like that.

Nonchalantly, she slides into the seat beside me and removes her pencil case from her bag before turning to face the board. I wait, but she makes no attempt to speak to me. Maybe she's shy? I shake my head, confused, and focus back on the lesson. Mrs Grover returns with Clary's notes and with a grateful smile and a thank-you from her, Mrs Grover goes back to her desk. I can't help but notice how Clary plays with the ends of her hair as she concentrates, twirling strands around her fingers as she studies her notes. When it comes the time to pack up our things, she still hasn't spoken to me never mind acknowledged me. I watch her curiously but she pays me no notice as she removes her schedule from her pocket to see where she should be next. I'm just about to break the ice and introduce myself when the bell goes and I'm surprised to see my sister, Izzy, standing in the doorway waiting for Clary. They disappear down the corridor talking and laughing which only perplexes me more – If she's friends with Izzy then it's unlikely she's shy - My sister was somewhat of a social butterfly and always had been.

The questions I had about Clary Fairchild only seemed to multiply after seeing her with my sister – Who was this beautiful girl and why did she seem oblivious to my existence?