There will still be an upload this Friday.

PoV Clary

Before I left for Christmas holiday, my English teacher gave us an assignment. It was to write an essay about how everyone is two dimensional. It had to be at least three well written paragraphs, "so I'm letting you get a middle school essay," he told us. He also told us we had to write it, and what he wanted it to be, or we'd get a zero, and there was no way to change his mind. I started to write the night I got home, but I couldn't get passed,

"People who we meet are always two dimensional, because-"

I just couldn't continue. I pushed it off, and I couldn't get myself to write it. I couldn't write it.

I asked Magnus and Alec, and they said that it wasn't like Mr. B, my English teacher, to do this. He was always a happy kind of guy, and Magnus often gave him a glowing review. Alec, less enthralled by my teacher, also agreed that it wasn't right for him to make us do this essay.

Anyway.

Magnus and I were hanging out in the commons when Mrs. Blanchet came by.

"Magnus, I need you to lead a group of incoming freshmen around," she said. "It's in a few hours."

"What?" Magnus asked, sitting up straighter. "No!"

"Either do this, or have the three detentions you've missed."

"Fine," Magnus grumbled. "But only if Cain does it, too."

"Fine. Mr. Fray can accompany you."

That's how Magnus and I ended up giving a group of ten thirteen to fourteen year olds a tour of the school. We were doing fine, showing them to best art rooms, the worst bathrooms, the secret passages that can help you get to class quicker. Then we met up with the principle, and Mr. Hodge welcomed the students.

"…and that's why we have one of the best school systems in the state," he said, smiling. "Any questions?"

"Why is your school full of fags?" a kid yelled from the back.

Magnus tensed beside me, cracking his knuckles behind his back.

"We don't allow language like that," Mr. Hodge said. "If you continue to use that sort of language, you won't be invited back next year." He nodded to us. "Have a good day."

We continued down the science wing when I heard that kid talking to his friends.

"Come on," he said. "Let's sneak around. I don't want to follow around some faggot ass perv around anymore."

"Shut up, Josh," another kid said.

"Fuck off, Raphael," Josh said.

"Excuse me," I said, my voice deepening. "Please pay attention."

They went quiet. As we passed the dorm rooms, Alec showed up. He was still in his pajamas, and a pair of grey socks. He had half a bagel in his hand, a bite taken out of it.

"This is one of our Juniors," Magnus said. "And one of the best football players in the state. And my boyfriend~!" Magnus placed his arms around Alec's shoulders. The younger boys shuffled on their feet.

We were about to continue when the boy from earlier mumbled, "Fag."

"I'm sorry," I said. "Do you have a problem?"

"Yeah," Josh said. "I don't wanna be in a school of gays and weaklings."

"Are you calling me weak?" I asked.

"Yeah. I'm more a man than you'll ever be."

"Oh, really? Prove it." I crossed my arms over my chest, raising an eye brow in disbelief.

"I've been through more than you have. I've had to take on the family burden since my dad died," he said, puffing up his chest.

"You've had to look after your three year old sister for two hours every Saturday," Raphael mumbled from the back.

"I got kicked in the face in soccer."

"My foot grazed the end of your nose," another boy said.

"I've had sex!"

No one called him out.

Stepping closer to him, and speaking quietly, I said, "Is that it?"

Josh nodded his head.

"I'm sorry you're dad died, but that seems to be something we've got in common," I said. "I've been beat up three times in the past three months. And you know what?"

"What?" Josh asked with a sneer.

"I've forgiven both of those people." I smiled a little. "Not for their sake, but for mine." I took a deep breath. "I was nearly… I was nearly raped, twice, by the same guy, and I forgave him, too. Not for him, but for me. I'm more of a man than you are, because I don't hold on to childish squabbles. I let these things go. That guy ruined my life. But I'm not letting myself sink into self pity. I go on in my life, I got myself a boyfriend, I have the best friends in the world, and I live the best damn life I can. So you can stuff your big man talk up your ass, and learn some decency."

Josh was quiet. He had gone pale, his hands trembling. He was silent for the rest of the trip.

At the end, when we were walking them to their parents' luxury cars, he tapped on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I… I'm sorry."

I nodded. "It's okay."

"How do you… move on from that?"

"From what?"

Josh looked over my shoulder. "A couple years ago, my mom's boyfriend… touched me." He looked so small, so frightened, in that moment.

I placed a hand on his shoulder. "You forgive him for hurting you. Never forget, but let him leave you. Don't hold on to the thought of him. Let yourself live again."

He nodded, and looked again over my shoulder. He stepped forward and hugged me, then pushed me away almost as quickly. "I'm not gay."

"You want to know a secret?" I whispered.

He nodded.

"Me neither." I smiled, letting myself slip into my normal voice. "I'm a girl. Don't tell anyone. I'm undercover."

He shook his head, smiling. "You're one weird guy."

Later than night, I sat to write my essay.

"People are not two dimensional. They may seem that way, but people are always layered. They say and do things that might conflict with what they believe, but are forced to say and do. People are hurt by themselves, and others, but that changes them, it shapes who they are meant to be. It makes them become better people.

"Take Alexander Lightwood. When I first met him, I thought he was an ass. He was big, and brooding, and mean. You'd never think that if you listened to his sister, Isabelle. She praises him daily, saying how kind he is, how loyal he is. If you talked to his brother, you'd see how sporty he is. If you talked to his boyfriend, you'd see how funny he is, how soft and gentle he is.

"I know that giving you this essay, Mr. B, that I will be getting a zero on my assignment. I don't care. People have never been two dimensional. I'm sorry if someone has hurt you to make you feel this way, but it is wrong to degrade people like this. To insist that everyone is flat. It is not correct to teach us that we are flat."

And do you know what? I got a 97 on that essay.