Tessa listened intently to Miss Trudy. Not only was she her history teacher, but English Literature teacher – and by far,
she was her favourite one. Unlike the other teachers, she was not biased and treated the Shadowhunters as she would a regular student.
"In this line from Shakespeare, it says that, 'Hell is empty, and all the devils are here. Can anyone elaborate on that? It is fairly obvious, so those who truly aren't brainless, raise
your hand," Miss Trudy asked, scanning the entire class. Out of the entire class, it was only Tessa who raised her hand.
Tessa was surprised. Other people had to understand that line. It was so simple. But Tessa got it immediately. Everybody else was either balancing a pencil on their nose, texting
away on their phones or gossiping. Tessa was sitting at the back, so she had a view of everything.
One particular seat was empty. William Herondale's. Tessa's suspicion rose. "Yes, Tessa. Tell the other brainless children that are texting and gossiping the answer," Miss Trudy
said, making sure everybody heard her. Guiltily, everyone put their distraction away and turned to glare at Tessa – as if she was the reason they got caught. Tessa wanted to cower
under their stares, but didn't dare to.
"'Hell is empty and all the devils are here,'" Tessa repeated.
"Thanks for repeating it for us. We didn't know," a brunette girl said, several rows in front of her. Sarcasm and hatred oozed down her words. Since the incident with Will a week
ago, Tessa had been getting hate letters. In her locker, her clothes, in class – they would all be slipped to her – telling her that Tessa should die and that Tessa should just move out
of the Institute.
Tessa was forever grateful for Sophie, who had tossed those letters and notes into a burning flame. "It means that all the bad – death, pain, sickness, jealousy – those are not in
Hell but on earth," Tessa replied shortly.
"Perfect," Miss Trudy said, returning to the whiteboard to write down some more lines from Shakespeare. Glares from everyone were placed on Tessa, who tried to keep her eyes
on the board.
Suddenly, if not simultaneously, everybody glanced down at their phones. They seemed to have gotten a text message. Everybody – but Tessa. Once again, Tessa began to feel left
out in her class, but put it aside. Sophie was in Business and Creative Writing. The next block would be with Sophie.
Tessa tried to calm herself with that knowledge, though it truly didn't help a lot. There was still fifteen minutes left in class, but the clock seemed to taunt her as well, moving
slower than a snail.
"Work of the day," Miss Trudy called, but the loud ring of the school bell drowned the blonde teacher and the class cheered before filing out. "Read Othello!"
Tessa took her time with leaving, despite wanting to meet Sophie quickly. It was comforting without having so many glares on her back, and she feared that once she stepped into
the hallway, she would be met, once again, with glares.
Thanking the Angel, Tessa tucked her books into her bag and slung her worn messenger bag over her shoulder before walking out of the room.
Miss Trudy exited from her classroom to walk to the teacher's lounge as Tessa was stuffing Othello into her locker. Surprisingly, she was the only one in the hallway, lingering still.
That was odd. Usually, there were always at least several people, whispering and impatiently waiting for a Shadowhunter to appear. Yes, Tessa had the Shadowhunters as locker
buddies, but it wasn't like Tessa actually spoke to them.
Tessa traded her Othello for her writing binder and some pencils. Stuffing it into her bag, she slammed her locker shut – the sound echoing eerily through the hall.
Silence. It was the sound of being alone. Over the years, Tessa found it comforting, but when she stood in front of her closed locker alone, she couldn't help but feel a haunting
sense that she was being watched.
Tessa shivered before walking down the hallway to her creative writing class, her hands stuffed in her frayed sweater's pockets. Her jeans swishing and boots clacking on the floor
were the only sounds that were heard.
Suddenly, Tessa's phone buzzed. Tessa froze in the middle of the hallway, slowly sliding out her phone from her messenger bag and checking her new message.
Meet me in the music room. Come alone. I need to talk to you.
That was all it said.
The hallway Tessa was in was dwarfed compared to the other large corridors in the mazelike Institute, and Tessa had devoted herself to memorizing the map a week and a bit ago,
when she first got it.
In her mind, she envisioned the school and Tessa knew that if she swung a left at the end of the hallway she was in – she would be at the music room, but the thing was, her
creative writing class was in the opposite direction that was in.
And why would anyone send her a message to meet at the music room. It was probably a wrong number, Tessa decided, before continuing on her way to her creative writing class.
Tessa's phone buzzed again in her hand and Tessa continued walking this time, though she read her text, scanning it over.
Please, Tessa. I need you, the text read.
Tessa stopped in her tracks. So whoever was sending her this text meant for her to come. But Tessa's suspicion rose. Everyone hated her in the Institute, for she had gone against
William Herondale, the leader of the Shadowhunters.
The time on her phone said it was 2:51 – nine minutes from her creative writing class. The gaps between classes were always big. Perhaps it was because the distance from one
class to another was so great – the hallways vast and endless.
It would take Tessa three minutes to get to her class if she sprinted from the music room. Deciding against her better judgement, she ran to the music room, her curiosity.
Clutching her bag tightly, she stood in front of the music room door. The door was shut and blinds closed, not letting Tessa see anything inside. It was as if two choices were
weighing on Tessa's shoulders. One voice said: Don't go in there, Tessa. Turn back and go to your writing class. I have a bad feeling about it. Another voice said: You have to be
brave and prove you aren't a coward. What about your pride, Tessa? Are you going to let a room stop you?
But Tessa didn't know which voice was the angel and which was the devil.
There was a reason why there was a saying called: Pride goes before the fall.
Tessa opened the door hesitantly, her heart pounding in her chest. The music room was dark, so dark that Tessa could barely see anything in front of her. Without the light
streaming in from the hall, Tessa would have been blind in the darkness.
Tessa took one step into the room and suddenly, the door behind her slammed shut. Tessa spun around, just as the lights turned on.
She was surrounded. Two burly boys stood in front of the only exit, arms crossed. Students were leaning against the walls, smirking and grinning evilly at Tessa. Instruments,
chairs and music stands were shoved aside as if they didn't matter and a spot was cleared – right in the center. One of the boys guarding the door pushed Tessa into the center –
where she fell unflatteringly onto her butt.
Several girls laughed outright, calling her names no one should ever have to hear. But Tessa did not cry. She was Theresa Gray, not a coward, nor was she weak. Tessa shakily
stood up to her feet, braving on her school mates.
It was thirtynine to one – horribly unfair for Tessa. Then, a blonde girl stood out from the crowd of students, a malevolent look in her eyes. "Get her," the girl hissed and suddenly,
a bucket of flour was dumped onto Tessa's head from above. Tessa winced as the flour seeped into her clothes, eyes, mouth and hair, covering her and making her entire body
white.
Then students began throwing eggs – splattering across Tessa's uniform, causing a mess on her bag, hair, and skin. Egg shells bit into her skin, causing several stings. Tessa
shielded her face with her arms as her schoolmates pelted her with eggs and flour, cackling as they did so.
How could human beings be so cruel as to do this? Tessa wondered. Tessa was ashamed to be a human being then – a being capable of sin, cruelty, murder, jealously, pain – all the
devils from Hell. Humans were the true devils, weren't they? Humans should just be tossed over into Hell to stop the pain in the world, but no – Tessa had no such luck. She had to
endure every sin every day. Tessa wasn't sure if she was grateful to the Angel and his Master for letting humans on earth.
Humans were truly atrocious.
And Tessa was one of them. She had her own deadly sins as well – her pride.
"That all you got?" Tessa shouted at her classmates. "You are all like a five year old children, you know? No tact, no brain – nothing!"
Suddenly, several girls surged forward, grabbing Tessa's hair and pulling her down. Tessa didn't cry out though – she refused to. A sharp stiletto hit Tessa's side, but Tessa still did
not cry out. She was determined to be strong – like the Spartans, who were trained to never cry out, even when they were in pain and misery.
Tessa shielded her head as the girls beat her, when suddenly it all ceased.
"What do you think you're doing?" a voice asked, rage stirring.
The blonde girl, the one who seemed to be leading this whole thing, spoke first. "I'm Jessamine. Do you remember me?"
"I do not remember those who are not important," the terse voice replied. "Why would you beat up a girl. Thirty something people against one. You kick at her and you torture her,
yet she does not cry out and she does not retaliate. You should all be ashamed of yourself," the voice said coldly.
The room was silent. Footsteps sounded on the floor and two arms helped Tessa up. Her sides felt bruised, as did her legs. Her muscles were screaming at her. Tessa was limp in
this stranger's arms and finally, the stranger gave up on helping Tessa up and just scooped her up in his arms, carrying her out of the music room. No one moved an inch.
Dizzily, Tessa looked up at her saviour. Liquid silver eyes looked back down at her, concerned and worried.
"Wait!" came Jessamine's voice behind them. "James, please," Jessamine pleaded. "William Herondale asked us to do this."
Tessa looked up at Jem – whose eyes had steeled. "It doesn't mean you have to follow what he says. He may be rich and powerful, but he is not always correct. You only went
along with it because you wanted to be popular and powerful as well, am I not correct?" Jem asked coldly. "Stay away from us and don't ever look at me again."
Tessa was surprised at the harshness of his tone, the coldness and his face that was devoid of all emotion except for rage. Jessamine whimpered slightly and Jem forged on.
"I want to go to class…" Tessa managed to get out.
"Are you insane?" Jem asked her. "You want to go covered in bruises, blood, eggs and flour?"
Tessa didn't even realize she was bleeding slightly. "I don't want to go to the nurse. My mother would freak. And Sophie will realize something is wrong."
Jem sighed heavily and Tessa couldn't help but feel guilty that Jem was also skipping class to help her. "I'm sorry," Tessa said, apologizing.
Jem looked down at her, a questioning smile on his face. "What for?" Jem asked. "You didn't do anything."
"You're skipping class to help me," Tessa explained as Jem carried her down the hall. Tessa didn't know where they were going, but she felt comfortable in the arms of Jem, warm
and safe.
"Tessa," Jem clucked his tongue. "It's not your fault. Besides, it's the right thing to do. Also, I'm skipping my class for Fighting. I came back to the music room to pick up my violin
case… and ANGEL! I forgot it!" Jem frowned.
Tessa only smiled at his response. "Where are we going?"
"My secret place," Jem said, winking at her. Tessa felt special – she was going to his secret place. That had to count for something right?
"And if I go back to fighting class right now," Jem continued, as he swung a left, "I'm afraid poor William will be severely beaten up – along with the rest of the class – in my rage."
Suddenly, a lithe figure came sprinting around the corner, almost crashing into Jem and Tessa. "Jem, there you are! Will's been… oh," the girl said. Tessa almost gaped at the girl.
She looked like an exact copy of Will – midnight hair, shining blue eyes and the same proud nose.
"I'm Cecily Herondale," Cecily said, looking at Tessa who was still in Jem's arms. Tessa blushed at their position.
"Tessa Gray," Tessa replied. Cecily gaped.
"No, Will…" Cecily whispered.
"Yeah. Will," Jem snarled. "You go back to class and go punch Will's ass… I mean, bum for me," Jem corrected.
Tessa giggled. "Why correct it?"
"Well, it's not exactly gentlemanly to say in front of two ladies, is it?" Jem smiled wryly. "My mother pounded it in my head to have good manners."
A boy who's handsome, wellmannered and intelligent. Tessa sighed inwardly. The perfect package.
"Don't worry Jem. I'm going to kick where the sun don't shine," Cecily winked and she skipped back to one of the Institute's many gyms.
"So that was Cecily Herondale," Tessa mused. Jem had resumed walking and he had told her they were almost there.
"Yeah. Surprised?" Jem asked.
"Just a little bit. I expected her to be more like Will – evil, mean and nasty." Then Tessa's hands flew up to her mouth. "Oh, Jem. I'm so sorry," Tessa apologized.
Once again, Jem asked her, "Why?"
"I just insulted your best friend," Tessa said slowly.
Jem only shrugged. "I'm too angry at him to even care. We're here," Jem said, looking up from Tessa.
Tessa scanned her surroundings. She was on a balcony – a very large balcony. Jem had carried her up a short flight of stairs, Tessa realized, and she felt horribly guilty. Though
her muscles still ached, Tessa asked Jem to put her down. Jem agreed, gently lowering Tessa to the floor. Uneasily, Tessa stood before walking to the railing, eying the city of
London below her. It was beautiful – very beautiful. She seemed to be on the very top floor of the Institute, overlooking everything.
"This is amazing, Jem," Tessa breathed. Tessa turned back around to see Jem, holding a new uniform in his hands. "Where did you get that?" Tessa asked.
Jem shrugged. "Shadowhunter power. I don't like abusing it, but I needed it."
Tessa smiled gratefully towards Jem before setting the uniform aside. "You're all covered in flour too now," Tessa frowned, looking at Jem's uniform.
"It's just a bit," Jem said nonchalantly, settling into one of the chairs. Tessa sat in the chair next to him, eying at Jem intently. Jem suddenly sat up, producing a handkerchief from
his jacket pocket. Slowly, Jem began to wipe away the floor from Tessa's face.
"Thank you," Tessa whispered.
"All I did was help," Jem said simply. And Tessa's heart fluttered inside her chest before she realized maybe… just maybe… that her feelings for James Carstairs weren't all that
simple.