My name is Clary Fray. I'm sixteen. I have red curly hair that I hate, I'm short, I have no figure, and I'm a good artist.

I also go to Alicante High - it's my Junior year.

Blech.

It's not that I don't like high school - even though I don't. It's not that I don't like my teachers - even though I hate them.

It's that there's a new kid in my class. And boy, is he a dickhead.

His name is Jace Wayland. He moved to Brooklyn from Idris, Washington, wherever that is. He has an adopted brother, Alec, who's a Junior. Alec is okay, even if he is kind of a sociopath. But JACE!

First of all, he's freaking gorgeous. Second of all, he's self-centered, rude, a total smart-ass, and yet ALL THE GIRLS (and a few boys) ARE TOTALLY IN LOVE WITH HIM!

How is this possible?

Sure, his eyes are the color of a sunset. And maybe he has curly golden hair cut just above his jawline that falls into his eyes in a way that makes my fingers itch for my sketchpad and pencil so I can draw him. And maybe he's muscular and tan and tall and has the best smile in the world - but why would you fall for someone like THAT?

Jesus. People these days.

My best friend, Simon, doesn't like Jace either. Probably not for the same reason as me, but still. It's nice to have someone who hates all the same people as you. That's what friends are for, right?

I kid you not, this is how Jace introduced himself in Mr. Starkweather's class.

"Hi. My name is Jace Wayland, but I also answer to "Hot Stuff" and "Sexy Beast". Restrain yourselves, ladies - there's plenty of me to go around."

He smirked at everyone, and was about to say more when our homeroom teacher, Mr. Starkweather, (he told us to call him Hodge, but I just can't get used to calling a teacher by their first name) sighed wearily and said, "That's enough, Mr. Wayland. Please sit down and try to be less self centered from now on."

Jace just snorted in an "as if" kind of way and sat down. I wanted to stand up and yell at him, but I didn't feel like it (NO, I WAS NOT SCARED!) so I just satisfied myself by shooting dark looks at him. Well, at his back. But still.

I was mustering up the courage to throw my eraser at him when the door to the classroom burst open and in walked Isabelle Lightwood. All the guys in the class (except for Jace, which was kind of a surprise) straightened up and started staring at her in awe. Isabelle is kind of gorgeous - scratch that, really gorgeous. I would hate her if she wasn't one of my best friends. But she is, and she's almost as amazing to be around as Simon, so I can't hate her. She's too awesome.

"Sorry I'm late, Hodge." she said breathily, pressing a hand to her, uh, decolletage. I could practically hear all the boys in the class drooling. "Doctor's appointment. I have a note."

She handed Mr. Starkweather a note and slid into the seat next to mine. "Hey," she whispered as Mr. Starkweather resumed the lesson. "Who's the hottie?"

I wrinkled my nose in disgust. "He's new. His name is Jace Wayland, and he's a total douche."

Isabelle pouted. "That's a pity. He's sexy."

I made an ew face. "Yeeeah. And I'm a Victoria's Secret model."

Isabelle snickered and pulled out her phone. "He is, though." she said as she checked her Facebook. "Gross! Sebastian Verlac liked my post."

"I didn't know he even had a Facebook. That's creepy." I replied, peeking over Isabelle's shoulder.

Let me tell you something - Sebastian Verlac is just about the creepiest human being you will ever meet. He's pretty hot, but with his scarred face and his constantly-getting-in-trouble additude, he's someone you want to stay away from. He got kicked out of school last year for unknown reasons - rumor has it that he tried to kill Mr. Starweather.

I shivered as Isabelle said with a disgusted expression. "I'm totally blocking him. He's gross."

Finally class was over, and Isabelle darted out of the room without waiting for me, probably to meet her Boy of the Week on his way to class. I don't remember that one's name - I call them all Bob. It's easier to remember that way. So I grabbed my stuff and headed towards the door, only to be stopped by Mr. Starkweather.

"Miss Fray. Do you have a minute?" he asked.

"Um... sure, I guess." I said, hoping I wasn't in trouble.

He led me over to his desk, where - OH SHIT - Jace Wayland was standing, irritating smirk on his face and his muscular arms folded.

"Miss Fray, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind showing Mr. Wayland around. He's new here, as you know, and your schedules seem to be the same." Mr. Starkweather says, smiling hopefully at me.

All I could think was NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!

But suddenly I heard my stupid mouth go, "Sure."

WHAT HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO?

Trouble, I thought as I stared in horror at Jace's smirking face. I've gotten myself into real big trouble.

a/n: Should I continue? Yes? No? Maybe? Review, please! You will get a cookie! (and perhaps a shoutout in the next chapter, oui?)

For those who don't know what decolletage means, here is some enlightenment straight from our good friend the dictionary:

dé·colle·tage

[dey-kol-tahzh, -kol-uh-, dek-uh-luh-; French dey-kawl-tazh]

noun

1. the neckline cut low in the front or back and often across the shoulders.

So there you have it! Sorry I had to use that term, but I couldn't think of a more tactful word.

Also - if you favorite this, PLEASE REVIEW OR I WILL BE VERY SAD!

Ciao!