Chapter 1:

Apples

At first, I thought that once I'd be in high school, things would be better for me. I was downright wrong to the core. Like, couldn't-be-any-wronger-than-that wrong.

Ninety-nine percent of the student body still had no clue I existed.

Apart from those bullies, and the teachers who barely interact with the small redhead in the very back row. I am an outcast. A loner. Or a loony. I was alone. The last person who I had actually been close enough with to call a "good friend", was Jace Wayland. Last time I've seen him was in third grade. We all need to put the past behind, though.

Now, in high school, being popular was dire. The popularity chart is like an apple tree. The bottom apples end up being picked on (or from) the most, or just end up rotting away, decomposing. I'm probably living on the small thread I call life, or my stem. As you climb higher in the tree, the apples are flourishing, shining, until you reach the perfect ones. Nobody dares to climb that high and mess with them.

That was my life. Being an apple. Or a redhead.

Part of me has always wished I could just sleep on it, and wake up to being Seelie, or even Kaelie. I just had to have my name end with an y when it could be Clarie. Instant popularity. Damn it.

But one part of me has always loved being invisible, just to be able to not get myself in gossip problems. I doubt that will ever last long, until somebody pops my alone bubble and I'll be open to all the diva and jerk world. Let's hope that never happens.

But the moment I walked through the two entrance doors, I knew something was up. People were quiet, a small buzz roaming around the small groups of students. Girls giggling. A new boy, I guessed, irrelevant.

But what I didn't know was how this one boy would change my entire future in less than a second.

How relevant he actually is, until I saw them walking down the hallway, striding with confidence.

Jace Wayland.

I immediately slumped against the closest beige locker. Jace Freaking-Wayland. How I recognized him, frankly, I don't know. But one thing for sure, that golden, light blonde hair could never be mistaken, never.

My heart beated in my chest like a hawk flapping its wings in its small cage, wanting to claw itself out. I turned and kept my head down, quickly hurrying to my locker. For some reason, he couldn't see me. I wouldn't allow it.

Besides, he wouldn't even recognize me... Right? What if he did? What would become of me? Nobody could recognize someone after eight years.

I opened it in a hurry, quickly swiping my hands over all my books, collecting those I needed. I repeated my classes for the first 3 periods so I could get Jace out of my head. Why was this such a big deal anyways? It's just Jace. Thoughts warped through my mind like a Star-Trek shuttle.

When I was done, I almost ran to my homeroom. There was a 50% chance he would be in it, considering the two junior classes.

I sat down in the seat farthest from the board and other occupied desks. I shuddered and quietly slammed all my books on the top. I pulled out a scrap piece of shriveled paper to doodle.

After mindless seconds of dreaming, I had created a small tree, an apple tree I presumed. What struck me though, was the top apple drawn with a light J in it. I glanced down towards it's roots. There lay a rotting apple, where C was scribbled on.

That's probably how it's gonna be, I thought.

I erased the drawing before crumpling the paper in a ball. I walked over to the recycling bin and threw it in. I didn't even earn one glance, even considering the racket I had created as the small blue bin wobbled on its tiny rectangle axis.

As I made my way back to my seat, I shot a look to the door. One minute left until the bell rang. If Jace was hypothetically to be in my class, he would already be here. I settled into my small blue chair, reassuring myself that I wouldn't have any issues for the rest of the year as long as he wasn't in my class.

I looked at the clock, the teacher would be here right now, normally. Just ten seconds before the bell rang, she walked in. But she wasn't alone.

One specific blonde student step into the class, golden hair slightly disheveled, golden eyes sparkling like small suns, and muscular, tattooed arms gripped a couple of books to a black shirt-covered chest.

Oh. Wonderful. Jace Wayland was in my class.

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Chapter one is heere! I hope you like it! I will regularly update & if you find any errors or issues, tell me! See you next time!

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