I stared at the pearly white tile, slowly watching it get bleached by a thick crimson liquid. I groaned. Even though my nose was pressed up against the cool stone, it still felt as if it were on fire. I rolled onto my side and touched my fingertips gingerly to my nose.

The moment my fingers made contact, a sharp pain shot up through the cartilage and, judging by the excruciating pain, into my brain. A small scream escaped my closed lips. I heard people chuckle. Someone's foot connected with my side, once, twice, three times. Each time I gave out a small yelp.

"Ok, that's enough for today," I heard a familiar voice say. Someone started to protest but quickly silenced himself and I heard footsteps and the sound of a closing door. I lay on the floor, not moving.

"Clary?" The familiar voice said. I pretended not to hear. "Clary." The voice said again. This time I turned my head up. For a few seconds I only saw a white light but as my eyes started to adjust I started to see the outline of the figure towering over me. He was tall, had pale blond hair and was extremely good looking. I grimaced. My boyfriend.

Sebastian held out his hand. "Get up," he said, not in a rude, pushy way, but not with sympathy either. I lifted my arm and groaned. I must have fallen on it funny when I fell. He sighed and bent over to take my hand to haul me to my feet. The world spun for a second.

"Let me see," He said, putting his fingers under my chin and tilting my head up to look at my nose. "Well…." He said, examining it. He touched it with his fingers and I yelped. "At least it's not broken."

I let out a non-humorous laugh. "'At least it's not broken'?" My voice sounded strangled. "That's all you have to say?" "Well what the hell do you want me to say?" He asked as though what he said was a completely normal thing to say in this kind of situation.

"Well for one it would be nice if just once you could say, 'you know what Clary? I'm gonna go and tell those guys to piss off like a normal boyfriend would because I don't like the way they are treating you.'" I tried to imitate the way he talked and failed. "Actually, you know what I'd prefer? I'd prefer it if you went and beat-up those ass-holes instead."

"I'm not gonna do that." He said, looking at me darkly. "They are my mates." "And what am I then? A dog?" I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to wipe some of the blood off of my face without having to touch my nose.

"Haven't you ever heard the saying: 'Bro's before Hoe's?" He replied, smirking. "What?" I was shocked. "I'm not a hoe!" He ignored me and went into one of the toilet cubicles. He returned with an arm full of toilet paper. "C'mon," he said. "Let's get you cleaned up."

He made me sit on a toilet lid while he knelt in front of me and used the toilet paper to wipe the remaining blood off my face. I stared into his eyes the entire time. It was like looking into a black hole. When he was done, he didn't speak. He simply stood, collected up the now bloody tissues, chucked them in the bin and glided out the door.

I sighed. Why the HELL are you even dating him? A voice in my head said. I mean, what kind of a guy lets their friends beat up their own girlfriend? "Well, they don't know I'm his girlfriend." I said sadly.

That was one of the side effects of dating Sebastian. Because he was the most popular kid at Mountain View High and I was, well, you can imagine how unpopular I was, one of Sebastian's terms when I started dating him was that absolutely NO ONE was to find out about us. To be honest, I don't even know why I started dating him. I mean, he asked me. I could've said no. I guess I though he would offer me some protection from my bullies.

I sighed again. I looked at my watch. All that commotion took all of 3 minutes. I stood up. My books were all strewn across the floor from when they knocked me over. I leant and my back hurt. I walked to the mirror and lifted my shirt. A big purple bruise was already starting to form on my back about the size of my fist. Shit. I had to come up with another excuse for my mom.

Even though my back was screaming at me, I bent over and picked up my books. I put them back in my bag and ran out the door, fighting tears from the pain.