Clary Fray never thought she was different from the other kids. Well, that was a lie. She knew that she was different. But in the small things.
She didn't have a smart phone, actually her phone might be called stupid. ( „Just because it doesn't have touch screen, a camera, it's in color and it couldn't recognize MMS it doesn't deserve to be called stupid." Or so she would often say to other people, including her mother.)
She really liked to read books. Real ones made of paper and ink, from reading online she often got headaches.
She didn't have a Facebook, Viber, Messenger, Snapchat, Twitter or any other form of social networks. Clary simply didn't wanted any of it. Plus she was horrendous at writing text messages. She just wasn't fast at coming up with responses and writing them down faster that the other person ( probably because she had to click multiple times on one button to get the right letter).
She was also an artist. A very good one actually. Clary could draw,sketch or paint anything. That was the only thing her mother approved off. Even though Yocelyn insisted on posting her artwork on Instagram. Clary endured a month and a half before finally giving in to that particular request of her mother.
When you list it like that she does sound pretty weird. No wonder her mother is worried.
And every introverts worst night mare is,of course, high school. The time when you are surrounded by your usually hormonally unbalanced peers in close quarters for extended periods of time. And if Clary was completely frank with herself, she was a natural target. So now when she was junior she had a very interesting bunch of nicknames that varied from creative ones:The Martian (red hair), Woormie (that one she didn't understand the origins of), to those less interesting: Red,Bookie etc. Some people were sticking with the classics and called her freak, weirdo and the rest. As far a teasing and bullying went Clary was surprised how unoriginal people were. She honestly thought trapping someone in their bathroom cubicle and stealing their clothes during gym is an urban legend that is only shown in movies. It was not, apparently.
And Clary ignored them as much as she could. Even when they made her life kinda miserable.
Clary did understand why her mother wanted her to have a boyfriend, to go on parties or sleepovers... Her mother wanted her to be a normal teenager like she was in her day. Sure, she met her father at a party and he left her after a month but, surely the chances of that happening to Clary were next to nothing, right? Her mother sometimes honestly surprised her with her unwavering optimism.
But most important thing about Clary was that she was true to herself, and would she pretend that she's someone else? Pretend to like things she actually loathes? Just to please people and fit in?
Hell no.
A lot of things changed because of one book. Christhopher Paolini's Inheritance cycle, to be precise. Not the most popular of series. But from time to time Clary felt the need to read it again. Usually around Christmas. And them early January would be a time for the true master: J.R.R. Tolkien.
And now Clary was standing on a tiny chair that librarians provided for her after ten thousandth time she tried jumping to grab a book from one of the higher shelves ( higher for her). She still needs it, even after all this years they gave it to her. It sure provided a lot of laughs, seeing her on her tiptoes trying to reach tomes like „The Complete Sherlock Holmes". Often people thought she was a librarian herself.
But for some reason Eragon didn't want to cooperate. That stupid, awesome-for-Christmas-time book just didn't want to fall into Clary's hands. "Do those shelves have to be so high?" A thought that passed Clary's mind countless times. "C'mon book, you will soon be in my hands and we both know it...What?!"
Suddenly the book disappeared from the shelf. Someone must have took it from the other side of the shelf.
"Hell no, that book is mine!" The redheaded girl's thought's became almost murderous, no one took the book she wanted so much. She won't surrender without fight. Even if it's an old lady, or a little kid she will come home with that precise book! Winter holidays start in two weeks and she has to read through The Inheritance to be in the mood to begin The Hobbit after Christmas.
Clary jumped from the chair and stepped closer to the person who will, easier or harder way, give her that book.
And what a surprise it was to her when she saw the person.
"Interesting, I was right. I will have to fight with a little kid. I didn't even know he knows how to read." She was usually a nice person, she really was, but when Jace Herondale was in question she let go of her temper a bit. She was her mother's daughter after all.
Ugodan ostatak dana.