I wake up to the irritating sound of my alarm. My hand automatically goes to the wooden hard alarm to press the snooze button. I don't know why I had set the alarm in the first place. I cuddle with my pinky pillow, trying to go-back to sleep. My bed is the most comfortable thing in the world. It never lets me go in the morning and welcomes me in the night with an open arms. I drift off for god know how long before I awake up to my mom's ranting.
"Clary! Don't be late on your first day to high school." Jocelyn says in high-pitched tone. I jumped out of the bed and run into the bathroom. When I come out of the bathroom, the time is 7:45. I put on dark black skinny jeans and I-Heart-NY shirt. After blow drying my hair and applying small amount of makeup, I look myself in the mirror. The girl in the mirror has fiery red curly hair, green eyes, and flat chest and bit of freckles in the nose. I always leave my freckles in the nose, untouched.
I rush into the kitchen saying a bye to my mom, picking up an apple and running out of the house.
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I text-ed Simon on the way to the school and I park my Chev in my usual lot. I see him waiting near the entrance, a bag slung over his shoulder. He wears his nerdy glasses; "Your mom rated: E for everyone" shirt and blue skinny jeans.
I walk over to him and he gives me a bone-crushing hug.
"Let go. I can't breathe." I shriek.
"Clarissa Fray. You've grown up a bit." He said with heavy sarcasm. I bump my hip into his, but that unfortunately hit only his mid-thigh. Now, you know why he makes fun of me. I am vertically challenged and I only accept his retarded jokes. But, that doesn't mean I don't get any dirty comments from this school bootless clay-brained foot-lickers.
"Okay. Enough of this. Let's go and pick our schedule." We walk through the crowd of students and into the office. Mrs. Tori sits in front of the computer, tapping something on her Iphone. I have already seen her playing Flappy Birds couple times. I don't know what's so fascinating about that game. But, yeah, of course I tried it once or twice. But the third time, I uninstalled it and threw my mobile across the room.
"Your schedules are in the desk right there. Go and pick it up." She says without looking up. There are 3 desks in the right corner with different grades. We go to grade 11 and rummage through the papers. After picking the schedule, we move to my locker. I peek at my schedule.
Math, Art, English, Gym.
Simon and I have Math together and that's the only subject I really suck at. I thank god for giving me this amazing nerdy I-know-everything best friend. We walk through the hallway to get to his locker, which is near our math class. He talks about the anime he recently watched and on and on. I nod at proper times and say some I know rights; and that's goods. My mind goes through the hardship/bullies that I might go through this year. Finally, We enter our math class, 5 minutes before the bell goes. I take a seat near the window and Simon takes the one beside me. I see the School nerds sitting in the front of the classroom with their books open and in the middle of the class sits the 'normal people' like me and in the back of the classroom is empty and that part of the classroom is registered for the populars. They don't give a damn about anything, other than sports, dances and parties.
Mrs. Imogen walks into the class before the bell goes and commands us to shut up, which everyone does. She starts the class with her personal life story. I hate it when teacher say their life story or show pictures of their family members. I mean, I don't care whether she has 1 or 2 daughter. The class seems to go on forever and ever. I am checking the clock for every 30 seconds.
Finally, the class ended and I say good bye to Simon and start walking to my locker. I am so excited and I feel like jumping up and down. I have Art now. I shove my math stuff into the locker and grab my sketch book and graphite pencil. I close the locker suddenly, before the books fall down. For the matter of fact, I have the messiest locker ever.
I run down the familiar hallway to my Art class. My eyes go to my sketch book and I look through the pages, admiring my recent work. I accidentally bump into the wall.
At least, I thought it was. But, I was wrong. The wall is the most retarded person alive on the planet, Jace Wayland.