Clary woke up with a start. The library slowly came to a focus. She sat up and looked out of the nearby window. The full moon was still shining in the night sky. She looked around. No one was here. Clary had observed very carefully the schedule of the night guard and always darted out of the library through the room where returned books came. There was a back door where she could easily pick through after reading a book about magic tricks in her stay at the library.
Coarse fur touched her ankles. Clary looked down. A cat, dark as midnight was rubbing her leg and purring with pleasure. Clary bent down and tried to pet him but the little rascal ran away. The redhead peered into the darkness but couldn't see the cat anymore. A pair of yellow eyes stared back. This brought up a sudden flashback.
It was a sunny morning in Brooklyn, a rare omen. A fifteen year old girl stood anxiously at a door, a million thoughts racing through her head. Am I in the right place? Did I get the address wrong? What if the girl doesn't like me? Will I have to give up my only chance at a job?
The buzzer crackled to life. The speaker in a disembodied voice asked, "Hello? This is the Lightwood apartment. Please state who you are."
"Clary, uh Clary Fray. The new tutor?" Clary stuttered, coloring up.
The robotic voice disappeared. A business like voice came instead. It was feminine and kind but with a stern spine.
"Clary. We have been expecting you. Please come in." The white door slowly opened. Clary walked in after a hesitant step.
New Yorkers were so classy. It was evident this family was rich. The room was large and modern with cyan grey walls, only an experienced eye of an artist could tell. A great staircase in the middle led to the second floor with mahogany railing. The floor was white marble with tall potted plants along the walls. Two hallways led out of the room, each on the other side of the staircase. Clary was too busy admiring the grand and elegant room to notice the woman much.
A quiet but firm cough invaded her thoughts. The woman was tall with a peachy-pale skin and jet black hair with not a single grey streak. She was rather young looking with almost no wrinkles and a fitting frame. Yet, Clary's trained eyes could detect a wrinkle in her eyes, several spots along the neckline of her striking suit and a single grey hair on the right side of her head.
"Hello, I am Maryse. Welcome to the "Institute", as we call it," Maryse said with a inward smile as if a secret joke. She was the woman speaking on the buzzer.
"I'm Clary Fray. This is um, a very nice house you got." Clary blushed at her lower class slang.
But Maryse didn't wrinkle her nose or stiffen her shoulders like most stuffy stuck-up. She just smiled and turned around. Her jet-black hair was tied in a low bun showing barely enough of her neck. She wore a black blazer and a blouse which had a rather low v-neckline stopping in the middle of her chest. It wasn't skimpy or anything. She wore cropped black dress pants which flared up a bit at the bottom. Her heeled black ankle boots were so classy and perfect Clary felt like bending down and staring at them for the whole day.
Maryse's fashionable suit made Clary aware of her own appearance. Her shirt had graphics on them and her plaid number was dusty. Her best jean jacket on top seemed dirty and out of place in the fancy house. Clary's jeans were torn and frayed with bits of dirt and dust with washed out converse. Her backpack hung limply on her back. Clary felt like a homeless person surrounded by all the modern-ness.
Clary ran after to follow Maryse's steps. Even for a middle-aged woman, she was quick and tall. Taller than Clary, even. Maryse rounded around a corner and stopped at an even more modern kitchen with glass cabinets and marble counters. Next to the counter was a stool and a little girl sitting on it.
She was probably about ten and had very similar features with her mother. The girl was rather tall, up to Clary's shoulder and was skinny. She had olive skin and brown eyes.
"Clary, this is Isabelle. Izzy, this is Clary, your new tutor."
"You mean Jace's new toy," sneered the ten year old. She shuddered at the sight of the dirty and skinny teenager before her. How dare she bring all that filth here thought Isabelle with a sniff.
Maryse seemed extremely embarrassed. Her neck was starting to flush.
"What? It's not like I'm lying. Before you know it, she's gonna be drooling all over for Jace's hand on her c-" Isabelle was cut shortly by Maryse's outburst.
"You will not speak like that in front of a guest!" snapped Maryse.
"You mean a stupid peasant, groveling for your money!" Isabelle shouted back.
Clary stood by uncomfortably. She had disliked Isabelle since she opened her mouth and dreaded tutoring her. Now, she was regretting her decision to come here. Maybe being a waitress at Taki's was better. Obviously a perfect home didn't mean a perfect family. She was just about to sneak slowly out, when she bumped into a boy.
He was possibly over six feet and had yellow blond hair. But that wasn't all. The boy's eyes were a color of a strange yellow. Along with his chiseled features, he looked much like a lion that was watching her with inhuman yellow eyes.
Clary snapped out of her memory. She had vowed long ago to never deal with her past. No way was she going back now.
Clary got off the comfy couch and stretched. Squinting into the darkness, she could make out a lump on the ground. Grabbing her backpack, Clary turned to look at the clock. It said 5:00 am.
Well, she thought, might as well leave anyway. Blindly, the small and skinny teen navigated her way through the children's books. Looking at her from afar, one might think she was one of those girls who were trying to lose weight by not eating since "skinny" was all the fashion. Yet, on a closer look, you could tell her ribs were showing and her cheekbones protruding and not just for weight loss.
Clary knew she was ugly. She had absolutely no curves, her bright red hair was in tangles, her face skinny and pale. She had no stomach and her ankles were bright red from the cold. Her clothes weren't an improvement either. She had a sweatshirt about three times too big and super small jeans. Her shoes were worn and almost in tatters. The library lost and found wasn't that big on clothes.
Silently, the starving girl crept through the giant library and into the return books room. Taking a pin and jiggled with the door knob. Clary almost laughed. She was creeping through abandoned buildings in the middle of the night and using a bobby pin to get out like a top secret spy. Lost in her fantasies, the teen didn't recognize the night guard until the roar of his car was gone. The silence still ringing in her ear, she hastily jiggled the doorknob again and found it stuck. Taking the bobby pin out, Clary stuck it back in and bent it left and right. Suddenly the door swung out on well oiled hinges. The guard's footsteps neared and Clary darted out closing the door silently behind her.
After dashing quietly through the parking lot, and across the street to the coffee store. It was 6:00 by then and Clary quietly slipped in with her key. Shoving her backpack under the counter and donning an apron, she flipped the sign to open.