It was Tuesday afternoon and I only had one period left before my tutoring session with Mr Herondale. Maths couldn't go fast enough.

I looked back down at my notes and got started on some Algebra. After 40 minutes, the bell went and I rushed out of my seat – I didn't want to keep Mr Herondale waiting but his class was at the other side of the school.

Izzy walked with me until we reached his class and then left with a smirk as I walked into the classroom, "Don't have too much fun now, Clary." I scowled at her, said hello to Mr Herondale and walked over to his desk.

He smirked. Oh my god, did he hear what Isabelle said? "Hey Clary, you ready to get started?" he asked me. I guess not. I nodded and sat down, pulling my essay out of my bag.

He shuffled his chair closer to me and started telling me where I could slightly improve. The majority of stuff he advised me to do was just changing the wording or adding extra descriptions.

"And here, I don't think you talk about your feelings enough and I think that would really help improve the emotion and reading experience," Mr Herondale told me, pointing at the end of the second page. I nodded and he continues, "So, if you don't mind, maybe you could tell me a little about how you felt at this time?"

I breathed in and then started talking, "I…I felt broken, I felt…devastated and alone. I was unsure how to cope." It was hard for me talk about such personal things and especially about such a tough time in my life.

He listened intently and then said quietly, "And now?" I didn't see how my current feelings have anything to do with this essay but I felt I could trust him, though I hardly knew him. "I'm okay I guess. It doesn't happen that often anymore."

He looked at me sympathetically and told me that he was always there if I needed someone to talk to, and I really appreciated it.

We sat in silence for a moment before he spoke, "If you don't have any questions, I think that's all for today. Work on it a bit and we'll see how you're doing in class next time, all right?" I told him that was fine and I'd see him in class tomorrow before I walked out of school towards the car park.

I couldn't see my mom's car so I sat down on a bench and waited. And then it started to rain. Great.

My tutoring session had gone fairly well. Mr Herondale was as nice as ever and I knew he was being honest when he said he'd be there for me.

I started thinking about changes that could be made to my essay as I planned to work on it when I got home. If I ever did get home.

I'd been waiting for half an hour and I'd already texted and called my mom multiple times to remind her that she was supposed to be picking me up, but I had gotten no response.

God, I wish I could drive. I was in the process of saving up so I could afford lessons as my mom didn't see them as necessary: "You have legs, just walk Clary, don't be so lazy," she had told me. I didn't mind walking, I didn't, but walking home in the rain? Now that was a different story.

I stood up, deciding to just walk the 25 minutes home, and pulled my earphones out of my bag so I could listen to music while I walked. I plugged them into my phone and I was scrolling through it for a song when I heard a voice behind me, "Clary? You're still here?" It was Mr Herondale, obviously wondering why I'm still on the premises even though I'd walked out of his classroom 35 minutes ago.

"Yeah, uh my mum was supposed to be picking me up but she never showed and isn't answering my texts. I'm just going to walk." I told him with a small smile. "Don't be ridiculous Clary, I'll drive you."

I hesitated, not sure it was appropriate, and insisted that it was okay, I didn't mind walking. He reached his hand out in front of me and I took it, feeling a shiver run down my spine at his touch. "I insist," he told me, pulling me to his car.

He seemed to have parked as far away from the building as possible so we were walking for a good few minutes. He held my hand the entire way, which I thought was a little odd, but I wasn't complaining.

He walked round to the passenger side and opened the door for me, holding it while I climbed in, before closing it and walking round to the driver's side. He turned the key, started the engine, and turned on the heated seats to warm us from the cold of the rain.

We sat in silence for a couple minutes. I wanted to talk, I just had no idea what to say.

"So, Clary," he said eventually, "what are your plans for the weekend?" He seemed genuinely interested.

"Um I think I'm going to see a movie with Simon on Friday, though we've not decided what yet. On Saturday, a piece of my art will be featured in this exhibition downtown so I'm going there, and on Sunday, I don't know, probably just catching up on some school work and watching Netflix…You?"

Without taking his eyes off the road, he said, completely ignoring my question, "Personally, I think you guys should go see 'Wonder Woman' at seven on Friday."

"That's very specific…" I said, stifling a laugh. "It's cause that's where I'll be," he winked at me. Oh. My. God.

My heart was going crazy but I tried to respond in an indifferent tone, "Oh, sure that film looks good, I'll talk to Simon about it." I could have sworn I saw his shoulders tense, but it was gone in an instant. I must have imagined it.

"Cool. Oh, and hey, congratulations for that exhibition! That's amazing!" he said excitedly. I blushed, though he didn't notice because he had his eyes on the road ahead. "Thank you, I'm really excited about it."

After that, the conversation kept flowing. We talked about our favourite movies, bands, books and food, our families and what we're currently binge watching on Netflix.

Eventually, I directed Mr Herondale to my street and thanked him for taking me home. "I'll see you later, Clary," he told me, while I was leaning through the door. His eyes ran over my body and I suddenly remembered that I was wearing a white t-shirt that, due to the rain, was now soaking wet. And see-through. I blushed, horrified, and muttered, "Yeah, see you tomorrow, have a nice evening."

I closed the door and ran up my drive, towards the house, trying to get out of the rain as fast as possible. However, my efforts weren't successful and any parts of me that had dried in the car, were once again wet. When I got in, I went straight upstairs to get changed into some comfier clothes.

I took off my green army jacket and looked in the mirror. My wet-shirt was clinging to my non-existent curves, my white lacy bra peeking through. Did Mr Herondale like what he saw?

Of course not. I'm his student, he'll never see me that way.

I removed my t-shirt and jeans and gave myself one last look in the mirror before I dug through my drawers and found some black leggings and a grey oversized sweater to wear.

I put them on, picked by bag up off the floor and walked over to my desk to begin working on my essay when I heard a knock on my door, followed by my brother's voice, "Clare?" he asked, his voice muffled by the wood. "Yeah Jon, you can come in."

"Hey, how come you're home so late?" he asked me. I explained the whole situation with the essay contest and Mom not picking me up. "Clary, Mom never came home last night."

Sorry for the cliffhanger! Though it doesn't really count as I'm just going to post all four chapters I've written.

I know it isn't a lot but I can't believe the first chapter got over 40 reads in a couple of hours! I never expected anyone to read my work so thank you very much!

Review, follow and favourite please!