A/N: Really sorry if there's inconsistencies between the last four chapters and the ones I'll be posting, I finally wrote my plans down but things have changed since I wrote the past four chapters. If there's any major confusion let me know and I'll do quick explanations to help everyone stay on the same page. This is very much a first draft but it's something.

Anyways hope you enjoy, kind of a filler but next chapter will be very juicy...

I had gotten used to having friends at school all too quickly.

So when Magnus didn't show up for first period art, I was devastated with the feeling of being alone. I pulled my phone out to check if he had sent me a text to explain his absence, but there were no new notifications on my lock screen - the background newly changed to a picture I had taken of the group the first time we hung out outside of school.

I needed proof that they weren't just a dream.

The screen had gone black again when my teacher passed me, and confiscated it. "Come on Clary," She said with a shake of her head. "No phones in class, you can collect it when its over." Her grin let me know she wasn't really upset, but she couldn't play favourites.

With one last fleeting glance at the door, hoping for the bright coloured hair that was a trademark of my new friend, I grabbed my paints and continued my work.

When the bell sounded I headed towards the desk my teacher sat at, her smile grew as I approached. She slid my phone across the desk towards me, but didn't remove her hand as I reached to take it.

I gave her a questioning look, her grin starting to freak me out. "Uhm, Miss, this is usually the part where you let me take my phone back."

"But then you would miss the part where I tell you that you've been chosen to paint the hall mural for the school." She sat back in her chair and laced her fingers over her stomach while I stared at her.

"Uh, wha- mural? Me? Paint? Huh?" My phone was completely forgotten as the newfound information circled my brain.

"Yep. Mural, you, paint it, for the school." Her response was barely out of her mouth before I squealed, running around the desk and wrapping her in a bone-crushing hug. I couldn't believe it.

My teacher's laughter rang through the empty classroom as she patted my back. I dropped my arms from around her while saying 'thank you' over and over and over again.

"There's no one better to get to paint it." She said, giving my shoulder a light squeeze. "Now off to your next class, I don't need another lecture from Mr. Ramone about how you keep showing up late to his class because of me. Shoo, out, go!"

Laughter bubbled out of my lips as I slipped my phone in my pocket and headed out the door, I hadn't felt this good in a really long time.

Last period was spent sending notes back and forth with Isabelle, her excitement matched mine about the mural. I had forgotten how good it felt to have someone to share this sort of thing with.

Typically Isabelle would be more focused on the class than interacting with me, but today's class consisted of us watching some video summarizing what we had already been tested on - we were ahead of the other section in the school but the department head wanted us to be at the same pace, so we had a bit of a day off.

What are you going to paint? Isabelle asked. Her handwriting was practically robotic, evidence of someone who had to ensure her notes were readable so she could share them with her friends.

Oh god I have no clue. I was hoping the group would be able to help me with ideas. I wanted to paint something that would represent us all, something to show them how grateful I was to them all for their companionship and support.

We'll have to have a brainstorming session at Aunt May's. I gave her an enthusiastic nod while stuffing the note into my bag as our teacher walked towards us handing out our tests.

As usual, the mark on my science test was completely average, a 72. Pretty good for someone who really only cares about art. I glanced at Isabelle's paper to see a 92 scrawled on the top. I looked at her face expecting to see a grin, but instead her face had gone ghostly pale, her lips pressed together in a firm line as she neatly placed it in her binder and asked the teacher to go to the washroom.

After 10 minutes with no return, I excused myself to go make sure everything was okay.

The sound of strained breathing echoed through the girls washroom and led me to the last stall that was twice the size of the others. I could see Isabelle's addidas shoes under the door, and crouched beside the stall.

"It's me." I said softly, pushing the door lightly and finding that it was unlocked.

"I'm - I'm fine." She said, voice strained.

I slipped into the stall anyways, closing and locking the door before sliding down the wall next to her and wrapping my arm around her shoulders. I was no stranger to panic attacks, and she clearly wasn't either.

I rubbed her back softly as she struggled to find her breath, tears making her mascara run down her cheeks.

"It's going to drop." She gasped out after a few minutes. "My GPA. It's going to drop. And I'm always going to be that dumb bimbo. That's all I'm ever going to be."

Her head dropped back onto her arms where they rested on her knees. I rested my head on her shoulder and squeezed her lightly, not being able to find any words that I thought could comfort her.

By the time her breath was steady, the final bell had just rung and the sound of the busy hallways carried into the bathroom. Luckily the science wing's bathroom was secluded, so there wouldn't be many students coming in.

"I'll go grab our bags." I told her. "I have some concealer and make up remover in mine so nobody will know."

Before I left the stall she grabbed my hand and squeezed it. I squeezed back and then navigated the busy halls back to our almost empty classroom, where our teacher hadn't even noticed our prolonged absence. Typical. They didn't see anything.

When Izzy had fixed her makeup, and the halls were quiet again, we exited the bathroom.

"Nothing like retail therapy to make up for a bad grade." She grinned as if nothing had happened as she led us towards her car, "Plus, we both need outfits for the party happening this Friday."

"Party?" I stopped in my tracks.

"Yup. Don't even try to talk your way out of going." She said over her shoulder.

I gulped.

Fuck it. I thought as I jogged to catch up with her again. If I'm going to be dragged to a party I'm going to look my best.