Naturally second period is a bit strange. I don't realize how strangely people are looking at me until I walk away from Isabelle and into the hallway by myself. All of the guys, who have never cast so much as a single glance in my direction, were staring at me in ways that made me slightly uncomfortable. Heat rises to my cheeks and I advert my eyes to the ground, suddenly wishing that Jace was here so I could hide behind his arm. Then I notice the way that a few of the girls are staring at me, and I feel the urge to throw myself into one of the many dingy green lockers in the hallways to get away from the hostility of the looks.

So naturally, I keep walking down the dirty hallway floor, like nothing is wrong other than maybe a slight fever. Damn, I'm good!

"So," I hear a teasing voice behind me, "should I call you Morgenstern or Herondale?"

"Depends," I reply, smiling faintly as I turn around and face the gangly form of Simon, taking in his shirt that said 'That's what she said' before rolling my eyes at it and continuing, "would you like me to call Isabelle Lewis?"

Simon's cheeks turn a decent shade of pink, and I figure that I have made my point. "I'll take that as I call you Simon, and you still call me Clary," I say, smirking at him. "You guys are seriously trying to marry us off after one day. Give it a bit more time."

"Yes," Simon says dryly as we make it to the French classroom. "Bienvenue!" was in large letters that formed an arch around the top of the door, as if it would make the class any better. The dingy room was still the same low-lit, moldy-smelling, grimy place that it was before it read "Welcome" above the door. Of course, most of the idiots that are in my class probably have no idea what it says, which is pretty sad, considering that we're halfway through our second year of French.

The teacher is a nice woman despite the surroundings making it feel like a psychopath would inhabit the area, and smiles at Simon and me as we walk in. "Bonjour, Clarisse et Jacqûes."

I still roll my eyes every time I hear Simon's French name. Madame Gray had specifically told us to pick a name that was at least close to our actual name. Simon, who hadn't liked any of the names that he had seen that started with an 'S', claiming that they didn't suit him, and cramped his style, went with Jacqûes. I don't know how he looks like a Jacqûes, but whatever floats his boat.

"Bonjour," I greet her cheerfully, noting how her grey-blue eyes twinkled merrily as she watches us go to our seats. "Comment ça va?"

"Ça va bien," she replies merrily before turning to her tiny, and rickety desk, and sifting through a few of the papers.

I look over at Simon, who is pulling a binder with a few different stickers. I am pretty sure that they have something to do with Minecraft and Dungeons and Dragons, but I never really got around to asking him. I make a mental note to be a more attentive friend before I grab my own French binder out of my black and red plaid and red book bag.

"…not even that pretty," I hear someone mutter from behind me. "Why would he want her."

I fight back a blush, knowing that they were talking about Jace and me. I don't think that everything is about me, but I do know that everything does seem to be about Jace. I just close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose as I hear Madame Grey start rattling off instructions in rapid French. Normally I would be able to follow along, but at the moment, all I heard were a bunch of different foreign sounds thrown together, nothing that I was actually paying attention to. I was too busy rethinking what Jace and I were doing.

This was supposed to make all of the tormenting go away, so why were they still gossiping so harshly? Better question: why do I care so much? It isn't like we are actually going out. I already know that I'm not pretty enough for Jace. Anyone with eyes can tell that he's out of the league of every girl that isn't a supermodel. I am nowhere near that status. It still stung to hear.

Simon, like the sweetheart that he was, knew just what to do. He turned around, and glared at whoever was talking a couple of desks away from me and snapped, "Oh, Jessamine, that's why he jumped your bones and left you? Because you're insanely gorgeous? If I remember right, he mentioned that you were a clingy bitch two days after you got together and dumped you on the third. Clary's on her second day with him, he hasn't complained about her, and as far as I know, hasn't slept with her. This makes you a clingy easy bitch. Nothing to do with your looks."

I fight back a smile at what he says despite the fact that I know that Jessamine is in fact a very pretty girl with her watery blue eyes, wavy blond hair, and graceful air that made me jealous just by thinking about it.

"Clarisse est très jolie," a deeper voice from behind me rumbles. I flush slightly, recognizing who it was coming from. Warmth shoots from my chest straight to my toes from the compliment. I think about the thick black hair, the wide black eyes, and the buff frame that I sometimes drooled over without really thinking about it. I cannot believe that Sebastian Verlac, of all people just gave me such a compliment.

"Thanks," I mumble my face is still really hot. I cross my arms on my desk and burry my head, wanting to sink into the ground. I don't really pay attention for the rest of the period, too caught up in my own head.

"Hey, partner," Jace greets me cheerfully as I walk into the chemistry class. He is already sitting at one of the black lab tables, looking as though he is about to start modeling for oversized goggles and black lab aprons. Only he can make that look good, I decide with no small amount of jealousy.

"Hey, Jace," I mutter, turning toward the table, unable to hold back a smile as I see the pink goggles and black apron sitting in a neatly folded pile on the table beside him, he really was rather thoughtful.

"Something wrong?" he asked as I walked to the stood beside him and sat down, pulling on the goggles.

"No," I say, capturing my lower lip between my teeth and looking down at the table. I grab the apron off it and slide the string around my head. I pull the strings behind my back, but as I am about to tie them, I feel long, soft fingers wrap around each of my wrists and hold them in place behind my back.

"Let me, Morgenstern," Jace says softly. I let go of the strings, but he does not release my wrists. Instead, he leans down a bit lower and whispers almost inaudibly in my ear, "I don't believe you, Clary, now tell me what's wrong."

I feel a twinge of aggravation stirring in my gut as I ask irritably, "What makes you think that there is anything wrong with me?"

"Your eyes give it away," he says, releasing one of my wrists and placing the hand on my upper arm, rubbing it up and down gently. "Come on, Clare, I want to help you."

I don't realize that I have closed my eyes at the soothing feeling until I force myself to talk. "It's stupid, really. I just heard someone talking about us."

Jace stops rubbing circles on my arm, and lets go of my other wrist. I figure that he is going to be annoyed that I'm feeling so touchy over it. He simply ties my apron on my back for me without complaint, though, and then I feel his arm around my waist, pulling me off the stool. As usual, I bite back a yelp of surprise and the urge to jerk away from him as my feet settle against the ground.

He turns me around and pushes me away slightly, his hands clasped gently around either one of my arms. "Who?"

"Jace," I sigh, shaking my head. "It isn't that big of a deal. Don't worry about it."

"If it wasn't a big deal, you wouldn't be worried about it," he replied, "just tell me who's saying what. It's my business who's talking about me." I had no argument for that one, and the serious look in Jace's wide golden eyes told me that he knew that I would have none.

"Jessamine," I mumble.

He grimaced slightly, and asked, "What did she say?"

"Nothing—"

"Please just answer the question," he pleaded, "there isn't any point in lying to me."

"She just said that I wasn't pretty enough for you," I relent, pulling out of his grip and turning away from him so he couldn't see the way that my cheeks were beginning to flush.

"Clary—"

"I told you that I wasn't worried about it," I snap shortly, my fists clenching together. I am annoyed with him for not just leaving it alone, and I hope he knows it.

He does not try to speak to me again during the lab, and I am grateful because I don't know what I would have told him.

Another update! Two in two days, I figured that you guys deserved a bit of a treat considering the gap! The next chapter has something that you guys might like *wink wink* So review, and I'll try and update quickly again! Sound like a deal?