Not By Blood - THE REWRITE

Chapter Three

3 WEEKS LATER

Clary Fray's life had always been normal. She had a doting, single mother, a big sister in her friend Dot Rollins, a loving uncle in family friend Luke Garroway, and a big, empty, gaping void inside of her that screamed of something missing.

All-in-all the normal, mundane, teenage experience.

She had everything going for her. She had a wonderful best friend whom she had known for the majority of her life, Simon Lewis. His mother Elaine was like a second mom to her. His older sister Rebecca – who preferred to be called Becky – had taught her everything she needed to know about fashion, makeup, and boys.

She had a natural talent for drawing. It was her bliss, her safe place, her escape. Whenever things seemed to be going horribly wrong, Clary could always turn to a sketchbook and some charcoal. That was the main reason she had decided to apply for the Brooklyn Academy of Art. Why not spend her time doing something she loved? Something that made her happy.

"This landscape is very . . . decorative." The woman sitting behind the table said, judgmentally.

Clary's anxiety spiked. No one had ever been so aloof about her drawings before. They were usually met with more awe and praise. Her natural talent had even caught some envy from peers in school. But she never met someone who looked at it with anything akin to distaste, like these admissions representatives sitting behind the table before her.

"Well, I wasn't really going for decorative, exactly," Clary said, her nerves on full display as she frowned at the landscape she'd handpicked, thinking it was some of her best work. It was a piece that she had initially been proud of. Now she wasn't so sure.

"What are those?" The woman asked, reaching for Clary's folder.

"Oh, those." She should have taken a different folder. They'd think she was too immature for such a prestigious program. "Nothing, just, um, some ideas for a graphic novel I'm drawing with a friend. Really, it's just there by mistake."

The woman set the folder down on the table. "The Brooklyn Academy of Art doesn't believe in mistakes." She told Clary firmly. "Congratulations,"

She handed the folder and the drawings back to Clary with a small smile.

"Wait, what?" Clary asked, fumbling with the folder.

"You're in." She and her two companions stood up, gathering their things. She handed Clary a folded piece of paper. Her acceptance letter. "You'll be receiving an e-mail with more information shortly. Welcome to the Brooklyn Academy of Arts."

Clary left the school in a daze; backpack slung over her shoulder, folder tucked under one arm, acceptance letter clenched in her hand. By the time she made it to Java Jones to meet Simon, she'd come to terms with what had happened and had a plan to surprise her best friend with the news.

She walked into the coffee shop, head bowed and body language dejected. She shook her head at him as she approached their table and Simon was instantly out of his seat.

"Give me the professor's names and I – I will end them," He said seriously making Clary look at him in disbelief. "You know, with – with a scathing e-mail to the dean." He amended.

"Don't bother," Clary said indifferently as she sat down and handed the folded letter to him.

Simon hesitantly took it, a helpless look in his eyes. He grinned when he read it, though.

"What?" he said, excitedly. "Sad face? Really?"

Clary couldn't help but laugh as Simon held his fist out for a fist bump.