WOAH! LIKE HOLD UP. WOAH!
125 views and 9 reviews? For chapter 1?
YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING!
Replies:
Jacaranda Penn: Aw, thanks so much!
iLoveMeSomeCaptianAmerica: Lol, and thank so much!
SpecialKid: I'm glad it's original, I fell like some of my stories aren't as original as they could be, so that makes me really happy!
Blaize: I hope it does too, but knowing me, I'm not very consistent
lovelydreams98: Well, I have gone and seen McFarland, and it's beautiful, but it's not really based off of it. Like I said last chapter, I run Cross Country, so that's kind of where I got the inspiration. Though, I do see it, but it's not really about rising up as McFarland. You'll see what I meant by that in a couple chapters!
Thank you all so much, and I hope this chapter measures up to your expectations.
Clary jolted out of bed, checking the alarm clock beside her. 5:15. Fantastic.
She was a morning person. People commented over how she was happier in the morning than any other time of the day, and she was glad that she could actually get out of bed.
Clary raced to the bathroom, brushing her teeth, and feeling relieved at the feeling of minty toothpaste washing away the bitter taste of morning breath.
She then carefully brushed her hair, watching as her frizz of restless sleeping went to tight reddish-orange curls. Clary didn't think of her hair as ugly, the artist in her saw the perfect blend of orange and red making a pretty ginger. She just saw it as frustrating, the challenge of smoothing it down to make it look more presentable.
People compared her to her mother, and Clary could see it in her milky white skin and bright green eyes, but the similarities kind of stopped there. Her mother towered over her in a proud 5'8, and Clary was a small 5'3 and a half. The half made her feel a little better. Their red hair contrasted in shades, her mother's more of an autumn auburn.
Once her hair looked at least halfway presentable, she went to the large closet.
Clary wasn't the cleanest girl in the world, most of her laziness of hating to hang up clothes showing by all the clothes on her closet floor. But she ignored them; most of the clothes down there were her nighttime clothes anyways, thrown in there with a few dresses that she wouldn't wear to church service. If she did, she was sure one of the old ladies would pass out from the shiny, short dress. Isabelle got them for her.
She picked out a light green teal sweater, the feel of autumn weather beginning to come into the air. Pairing it with a pair of khakis and flats, Clary sauntered downstairs for breakfast.
"Coffee, Clary?" her mother asked her, holding up a cup.
She grinned graciously at her mother, taking the mug greedily from her mother's slim fingers. Black, Clary grinned.
"Delicious, as always," Clary said, clinking her mug with her mother's.
Jocelyn was an artist, and she woke up early to paint the sunrise, and went to bed late to sketch the stars. So her mother was probably up thirty minutes before Clary, awaiting the chance to pull an easel and a paintbrush and whirl around her art room.
Clary sat at the wooden table with her eggs and bacon. She wasn't a huge fan of eggs, the thought of their slimy texture disgusted her, but she ate them anyways. They had protein, a necessity for long distance running.
"So, how are you and Sebastian?" Jocelyn asked, throwing her hair up into a messy bun with pencils sticking out of it. Jocelyn adored Sebastian, loving how well mannered he was. Sebastian treated her well, and like a true gentleman.
He rarely got angry with her, and when he was, he would talk through it reasonably with her, until they came to a compromise. When he took her out to dinner, he would always pay for her, and he brought her fresh flowers every week. Clary was glad to call him her boyfriend.
"Fantastic," she said with a smile. "He made Varsity, too, you know."
Jocelyn grinned. "You must've inspired him."
Clary laughed. "I doubt it. He's been set on for so long that I would've been completely and totally shocked if he didn't make it."
It was true. Sebastian was the worst runner on the team last year, both of them being freshmen. It would upset it so much that after races he would be frustrated for three days. He would injure himself by pushing too far, but sometime between last season and this season he became fifth boy. And he would've died if he didn't make Varsity.
"Is he still being possessive?" Jocelyn asked, and Clary tensed.
There had been a point in there relationship that Clary wasn't allowed to go out on Friday nights without him, and she was especially not allowed to speak to boys outside of the classroom setting. It had been three weeks ago, after Drew Hudson forcefully kissed her right as Sebastian was turning the corner by the lockers.
"Not as much," she said softly. "But he did make Varsity so yesterday could've just been an exception."
She was actually allowed to go to church yesterday without him all over her. It frustrated her that she had to be allowed to do things. It had almost caused them to break up several times whenever she had a group project with Drew for their science class.
Outside of class.
"It'll get better. And if it doesn't, we can get Jonathan to slam into a wall, and if that doesn't work, you can just find another fish worthy of Clarissa Morgenstern."
Clary laughed. "I don't know if Jonathan slamming him into a wall will work."
Jocelyn put a finger to her lips and a hand on her chin, as if she were in deep thought. "We'll just knock some sense into him…. With a brick wall."
Clary rolled her eyes, standing up to go rinse off her dish. It was now six thirty, and she only had thirty minutes to wake Jonathan up, the lazy boy.
"Do I have permission to splash water on his face this time?" Clary asked playfully.
Jocelyn shoved her daughter with a laugh. "Go wake him up, Clary. It's not that hard."
So since Clary didn't have that permission, she just grabbed a spare pillow and began hitting him over the head with it.
He let out a low groan, shifting to the side. Clary was thankful that unlike most boys he actually slept with clothes on, or at least a pair of shorts. "Leave me alone, Kaelie. You're a slut."
Clary snorted, hitting him harder.
"I said stop it, dammit!" he shouted, jolting up.
"Dreaming about exes?"
"Get out!" he shouted, throwing a pillow at her.
Jonathan was not a morning person. In fact, he often woke up their father with loud curses about how idiotic Clary was, and how school should start at eleven instead of seven thirty.
"We have a new student today," Mrs. Bozeman said with a broad smile. "He comes all the way from New York, and his name is Jonathan Herondale!"
Mrs. Bozeman drove Clary crazy. The woman was always smiling, like she never stopped. And Clary was okay with optimistic people. Without optimistic people, everyone would be depressed. But Mrs. Bozeman was a smiley lady with the bite of a very sarcastic, rude shark.
A boy walked in, fiddling with the straps of his backpack nervously. And damn was he hot. So Clary didn't really see the point of him being so shy and nervous.
He had golden hair, more on the shiny metallic side than a dull yellow. His golden eyes were downcast, the perfect shape of an almond. His lips were full, but not big and pouty. His eyebrows were the perfect size, not like a girl's that were penciled on, but not looking as if your forehead was sprouting hair either. His shy smile revealed two endearing dimples. His skin was golden, not orange, but not brown either. If she ever drew an angel, it would have his face all over it. She could practically see the golden wings sprouting from his back.
Apparently, she wasn't the only one with that thought, because all of the girls had wide eyes and some of their mouths were even slack.
Then, suddenly, he dropped the backpack string with a smirk, and stared directly at the teacher. "It's Jace. Don't call me Jonathan. I am not old."
Even Clary's jaw went slack at that, and a couple girls almost fell out of their chairs.
And, no, it wasn't the fact because his voice was like velvet (because it wasn't, it was kind of rough), it was because no one ever talked back to Mrs. Bozeman. They would be sent to the office with a referral, and Mrs. Bozeman would be smiling the entire time while she wrote it.
"Well, Jonathan, go sit next to Clarissa," Mrs. Bozeman snarled, all the while smiling.
"Who the heck is that?" he asked exasperatedly.
Clary liked him already.
"The ginger," and Clary almost slammed her fist down right there. Ginger was an insult. She was obviously a red head.
"Are you dumb?" he asked, rolling his eyes at the teacher, before sitting down next to her.
"Holy shit," Clary muttered under her breath. "You're amazing."
He smirked at her. "She frustrated me with her fifteen minute lecture over how, 'being new is no excuse, Mr. Herondale, for being late. It is not that hard to ask someone for directions!'"
"Shut it you two!" Mrs. Bozeman snapped.
"Can I get directions on how to do that too?" Jace asked, and Clary covered her mouth to resist the urge to start crying with laughter.
"Indeed, they're in the office, and Clarissa would be happy to go with you," She said, a broad smile on her face.
Clary shot Jace a warning look, and he shut his mouth then. She could not get another referral. She would be kicked off the team. Mrs. Bozeman handed them out like candy, and if you breathed wrong, you would get one.
"Sorry, Mrs. Bozeman. I understand that what I just spoke was extremely unacceptable, but I almost got ran over by a bus this morning, so I plead for mercy," Jace said sweetly, his voice suddenly turning to melted chocolate, and Clary's jaw almost dropped.
Mrs. Bozeman's eyes softened. "Well, I suppose. Just…just don't let it happen again."
Whenever she turned back around to face the board, Clary's jaw really did drop. "Oh my God," she said in bewilderment.
He winked at her. "It's all part of the charm, baby."
Physical Education was miserable. They were doing football, and although she was an amazing runner, multitasking was not her thing. Trying to grab someone's flag while watching out for someone throwing a ball, and resisting the temptation to scream at her teammates making sure their hair was still perfectly curled was not her forte.
At all.
So whenever she neared a concussion because a four hundred pound girl crashed her into the ground was not surprising.
And their team didn't even get a foul.
Or was it penalty?
Ugh, she didn't care.
Her head pounded, and she pressed two fingers into her forehead as girls crowded around her. She exhaled in a huff, "Crowding around me will not help with the pain. Go away."
Some girls backed away, but a few loyally – annoyingly – stayed.
This was going to be a really shitty day.
Apparently, lunchtime agreed with her, and so some girl accidently tripped her, causing spaghetti to stain her sweater. She huffed in aggravation as the girl stared at her with wide eyes.
"I'm so, so sorry!" she cried, kneeling down next to her. "I didn't mean to, I swear!"
"It's okay," Clary grumbled, and some napkins flitted down.
She looked up to see Jace with a mischievous smirk. "It's all Clary's fault," he said, smiling down at the girl. "She's such a klutz."
Clary stuck her tongue out childishly and Jace chuckled lowly.
The girl looked between them curiously. "Are you two dating? Because, if you're not, you two would be so cute together."
"No, they're not dating," A boy huffed, and Clary whirled around with a grin.
"Hey Sebastian!" she said with a smile. Act innocent, it's not like you've done anything wrong. You've just made a new friend. Where's the harm in that? She told herself.
Sebastian didn't see the innocence though, and he dumped the napkins down before stomping away. Clary licked her lips and sighed. He would be so difficult for the rest of the day, now. She doubted she could even get him to talk to her.
"That's my boyfriend," she muttered. "If he doesn't throw another goddamned hissy fit, that is."
She wiped the spaghetti off her sweater and Jace handed her a water bottle.
"Oh, well, I guess you guys are cute, too," the girl muttered.
Jace scoffed. "He seemed like an asshole to me. Didn't even help you."
"He's upset because some guy forced a kiss on me, and he'll be damned if he's not more stubborn than me," Clary huffed, pouring the water on the napkin.
"Have you told him that?" Jace asked, throwing a used napkin away. "Or is he just looking for a fight?"
"I've told him," she whispered. "But, I doubt he trusts me after this."
"An innocent conversation?" the girl asked.
She bit her lip. It would sound weird to her, too, but being possessive was one of Sebastian's only faults. Everyone all had faults and to make a good relationship, she had to look passed them, and forgive them.
"Yeah, but he'll get over it," she said confidently. "He's an amazing boyfriend."
"Well," Jace sighed, throwing away all of the used napkins. "I think that's the best it's getting. At least you don't have noodles hanging off your shirt."
I laughed. "This is true. Thanks, Jace. I'll see you guys around."
"Sorry again!" the girl shouted, and I grinned, waving her off.
"C'mon, babe," I groaned. "You'll have to talk to me eventually. I spilled spaghetti on my shirt. What's the big deal about that?"
We were at practice, doing our twelve-minute warm-up. Twelve was an odd number for running, but Clary didn't mind. Her coach told her to do it, so she did it. Today would be a hard day anyways. Best to get the blood flowing than to fall on her face.
"When are you finally going to admit you're cheating on me?" he shouted. "I mean first the hug with the guy who supposedly forced himself on you, and now this damned new guy?"
"He's in my homeroom," she huffed, refusing to get her anger riled up as well. It would only ruin her run, and running cleared her mind instead of making her confused and upset. "And he sits next to me. And he's funny. And he's nice. And he's not possessive. So, yes, he would make a very nice friend. Friend, Sebastian, friend."
He glared at her. "No need to spell it out for me. And we were friends."
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, and we still are, but there are only so many people that you date."
"Whatever," he muttered, and took off.
She tugged on her hair before picking up the pace again, heading in the direction of Isabelle. Running before boys. There was no need to get frustrated over this.
It's not like they were going to get married anyways. This didn't matter.
Phew.
So guess what I just watched? BIG HERO SIX, BRUH!
Did anyone else cry whenever Baymax supposedly dies? Cause I did!
And oh my gosh, I was looking to Dan and Phil being technician one and technician two, but it never happened, because I had the American version. It made me so frustrated; you have no idea.
But the song Immortals by Fall Out Boy made me want to jump in the air and start singing.
So, yeah, that's my day so far.
Oh, and it's a snow day! I live in Louisiana this is a rare occasion. It's more ice than anything, but it's so pretty outside! We get a lot of snow days but it barely ever actually does something, and when it does, we're actually still in school, because the weather here is so predictable.
Yep.
Well, I'mago!
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~Bethanie Dunn