DISCLAIMER: I do not own TMI, I don't own the characters- the only thing I own is the plot.

Chapter One.

On week days, it blared out from underneath his pillow, effectively waking him up with the vibrations it sent through his ear. He would search blindly, grasping the phone in his hands and promptly switching it off. Or, on his off days, anything that ranged from throwing it at the carpet that stretched from one side of his bed to the other, and cursing the damned object, or turning it off and rolling over for another few hours of sleep.

Alec Lightwood was certainly unpredictable when it came to waking up for school, and so the rest of the Lightwood household refrained from stepping within ten feet of his bedroom door before eight. Not that they were the prime examples of 'early risers'.. it was lucky to get Jace out of bed before noon, and Isabelle- as much as she claimed to love her 'beauty sleep', would probably still be awake and texting her latest boyfriend, or scrolling through another "hip and happenin'" social networking site that Alec was yet to hear of.

And so, due to Maryse and Robert Lightwood's constant lack of tending to their kids, Alec was left to prepare them for school.

Granted, this all happened on a regular, perfectly normal morning.

His first day of Senior Year? A perfectly abnormal one.

Out of all the mornings that have led to some unexpected occurrences on Alec's behalf, He had never, not once, slept through his alarm.

.

He remembered Jace calmly explaining that they were going to be late for school, and then shooting out of bed faster than Isabelle, sprinting in her heeled boots, towards a sale on at Macy's. In an explosion of clothes, socks and shoelaces- Alec was already dressed for school and heaving all of his siblings into the family Corolla.

The exception being Max, the youngest and most imaginative of the bunch, who liked to tell Alec about his dreams when he came floating out of his room, glasses askew on his small face. He attended the middle school down the road, and as much as he loved his siblings, preferred to walk with his friends.

He sighed. You're an idiot, he thought, late for your first day of senior year?

As he relived through the events of the morning, Alec rushed past the remaining students that still had yet to attend their first period classes. Jace and Isabelle had broken up with him to go their separate ways once the Corolla had been parked.

The linoleum floors squeaked when his sneakers (a cheap, rip-off pair of converse) brushed against them, an ear piercing shriek that ended in one of the passing janitors giving Alec a furious glare. He slowed down to a speedy walk, tugging on the ends of his sweatshirt, as he tried to shake off the embarrassment.

A thin sheet of yellow paper rested in one hand, with fresh ink as dark as his hair printed across it in small letters. His new timetable, that he had earlier demanded from the administration lady with as much politeness as he could muster, and then snatched, taking off in a mad dash for the corridor.

He imagined she wouldn't have been particularly happy with his behavior.

His eyes scanned the paper, following a dotted line until he came across his first subject.

French. A block...

... And in the complete opposite direction he was walking.

With a frustrated huff, he spun on his heel and headed for A block. He studied his surroundings. The walls, painted a mint green, were still chipping in places and the same dodgy cork boards hung from them on thin wire. Seelie State High School wasn't known for it's set-up, more so for the athletes and the science clubs that dominated surrounding schools in 'friendly' competitions. He couldn't imagine how the science club would do in competition, as there had been plenty of times when Alec had taken home Jace bloody and beaten, and he didn't think the science students would get so heated with their opposing teams.

He stopped walking when he spotted a tacky, colorful display that hung on the wall. One with all colors of the rainbow, and a bunch of small faces printed on photo paper that smiled towards a camera. He directed his eyes upward.

SENIORS OF 2013

Oh God.

He followed the pictures, noting that the surnames were in alphabetical order.

He spotted a girl from his old Chemistry class, one that bleached her hair frequently and sometimes chucked paper planes at him, and a guy that sat up the back during his English class and picked at his fingernails last year. He didn't bother searching for Jace or Isabelle, as he didn't doubt there would be other displays up around the school, one for each year level. They did this every year, and Alec cringed every time.

Laneway, Lesley, Little...

Lightwood.

And then Alec was met by the worst possible photo of him that the school could have chosen (or whoever put together the stupid display, anyway).

He stared back at the camera, his clear blue eyes wide with anxiety. He wore a gray cardigan, one that earned him many sneers and laughs when his Mother forced it on him for picture day (coincidentally, the only day she was available for the week). Maryse Lightwood, fuck, everyone, had always disapproved of his fashion sense, and no matter how many times Isabelle offered to take him shopping, he would always refuse.

This, of course, left him standing in line with Maryse, arms full of ugly shirts and pants that she had swiped from a second-hand shop, waiting to pay the dodgy cashier. He liked his clothes, they were comfortable and practical and Alec never understood why Isabelle would squeeze her feet into tiny stilettos for the sake of looking good. She never failed to complain about them, anyway.

In the photo, Alec's shoulders were up by his chin, looking oddly tense. His body, just as rigid. He was in the process of smiling, and so the corner of his lip had been pulled up by his cheek, revealing the point of a tooth. His ink black hair was ruffled, as he forgot to brush his hair that morning, and there was a tiny stain from the spaghetti he had shoveled down at lunch on his front. It was so small and undetectable that Alec was sure he was the only one who could see it, but it didn't make it any less horrifying.

He stared, dumbfounded, at the photo.

He shrunk back, cringing like he did every year, a sigh on his lips.

Why are you even surprised? It's not like this is the first bad photo of you-

French, you idiot! Go to class!

Startled, Alec started in a run down the corridor, glad to see that the remaining students had found their way to class and wouldn't witness the embarrassing display of his bag bouncing up and off his back.

He was sure he looked absolutely ridiculous.

Alone, he slowed down to a speedy walk, scanning the room numbers on the doors he passed, and then glancing down at the sheet in his hand.

A02 was the room. The room his first class was undoubtedly in full commencement.

He'd never been late to school before, and he frowned when he took a glance at the old analogue clock hanging above B14. Twelve minutes behind schedule.

A great way to start Senior Year, Alec.

B10, B08, B06, B04, B02...

He knew had no reasonable excuse to tell the teacher, he didn't even know who it was going to be, and that made his heart rate skyrocket. What if it was Mr. Verlac and he lectured him in the front of the whole class as to why he would be punished next time for his tardiness?

Or what if it was Mrs. Fairchild, who would raise her eyebrows and then wave him in patiently with a smile? You don't have a say in which teacher it is, Alec... You will take responsibility for your actions no matter what.

Despite the anxiety that flowed through his body, Alec pulled on a brave face when he passed A00.

The next room was his destination, and he mentally prepared himself for the look of disapproval that was bound to come from his new teacher.

Alec knew he had the worst luck in all of history.

He prayed that it wasn't the old, creepy Mr. Starkweather who wore old vests and ate stale crackers in between teaching. Mr. Starkweather was the only other teacher he knew of in the school, apart from Mr. Verlac, that was qualified to teach French.

Either way, you're going to lose. You're going to be taught by a creepy old man that likes crackers, or another creepy old man who likes to yell at everyone.

When his fingers encircled the handle to room A02, Alec sucked in a deep breath and stared at the ugly cream paint of the door.

This is it...

With a surge of courage, Alec opened the door and then propelled through it, slamming it behind him with a loud smack.

The classroom, with yellow walls and two broken ceiling fans, held no more than 20 pairs of eyes. All of them were trained on him.

He heard a few snickers and fought the annoying blush that crept up his neck.

There was a throaty chuckle to his left. Alec turned away from the class, staring at a spot on the flooring.

"Is this our late student?" the voice that spoke to the other students wasn't a voice that Alec recognized.

At least he's not yelling. Mr. Verlac can be scratched off that list.

It was oddly pleasant, and he had trouble detecting the different accents that laced his words. There was a lilt to his vowels, but there were still elements of his speech that could be traced to America. Alec heard the class give a small, apprehensive laugh and someone at the back of the room snort obnoxiously.

He glanced up from the floor, meeting a pair of what looked like very expensive Italian leather shoes.

Odd, as the rest of the teachers at Seelie opted for the shoes you found in chemists, the ones that could be prescribed. He had a mental chuckle at the thought. Alec followed slim ankles to a pair of extremely long legs, clad in plain black slacks. The exception being two shiny silver stripes running down on either leg. A pair of skinny hips, and then a torso clad in an off-white collared shirt. The sleeves, unbuttoned at the wrists, were rolled up to his elbows and revealing an even skin tone that looked like he had been tanning on a beach somewhere in Greece.

Alec raised his eyes to the man's face, the man that was his teacher.

He's far too fashionable to be a teacher... those shoes look like they cost more than your whole house and everything in it.

Crystal, emerald eyes stared directly back at him. Alec felt a little breath catch in his throat as he took in the features of his face. He had angular, sharp-edged cheekbones, and a nose that was tall and elegant. He looked like he was trying not to smile, as the edges of his lips were perked up a little bit. There was- was that lip gloss?

Alec tore his gaze away from the pink mouth. He noted the curve to his eyelids- the only clue to his Asian heritage. Eyelashes, each one thick and black and long, curled up towards his perfect eyebrows. Mascara, too?

And finally, he settled his curious eyes on his hair. Long, shiny and black- most of the strands standing up on his head in a crown of spikes. Some of them were swept across his forehead, and his hair gleamed in the sunlight that filtered through the classroom windows.

The man was oddly attractive, and Alec couldn't seem to tear his eyes away.

Definitely not Mr. Starkweather...

There was a cough, and Alec remembered himself. He shuddered when the blush returned, this time dotting his pale cheeks with color. He walked towards the teacher, concentrating on not falling over and embarrassing himself. He was leaning against his desk in front of the class, ankles crossed and his arms folded over his chest.

It did good things for his biceps.

Alec, he's a teacher. Save your gay fantasies for later.

"So-

Alec caught himself.

That did not just happen. Your voice did not just break.

Horrified, Alec's eyes fell to his shoes once again. His heart sprung into his throat, and he shut his eyes tightly, trying to block out the muffled laughter in the back of the classroom. The teacher hadn't said one word. Cautiously, he glanced back up to the man. He was simply studying him, an oddly patient expression on his face. "Sorry I'm late. I, erm, had to drop my little brother off at school" he forced out. The teacher raised an eyebrow, obviously trying to look stern- but the twitching of his lips gave his amusement away.

It wasn't entirely false, Alec really did have to drop Jace off at school- but it was Max whom he was referring to, the littler one that preferred to walk. Jace and Isabelle were no doubt in class right now, and Alec felt stupid for taking his time to fucking get to French.

You could have been here earlier, but no- you had to torture yourself by looking at a dumb picture.

There was a wave of a hand, and Alec saw the perfect manicured nails and the tiny silver rings that donned the man's fingers. "I'll let you off for today, but don't let me catch you doing it again..." He wiggled a finger in front of Alec's face. There was a playful smile on his lips.

Alec frowned. "Thank you, sir."

Without another word, he turned away from the teacher and started looking for a desk. And of course, knowing his awful luck, Alec found that the only free seat was in the front row.

Not only wouldn't he be able to get away with day-dreaming or doodling in the margin of his book during class, he wouldn't hear the end of it from his classmates. There was a giggle behind him, and Alec refrained from turning around.

His cheeks were probably still as red as cherries.

"Okay, now that that is settled, we can get to the good stuff," The man lept off the front of his desk, shimmying over to the blackboard and grabbing at a stub of chalk on a pile of papers. A few beautifully written letters later, he stepped away from the board and clapped the chalk away from his hands.

Français, and then a little squiggle underneath. Alec brought his eyes back to the mystery teacher. He swiped a ruler off his desk and then hit the board with it. There was a loud, reverberating BANG and everyone in the class flinched in their seats.

"Français," The word passed off his tongue effortlessly, "I am your French teacher. You may call me Mr. Bane, Sir, whatever you please. Though refrain from calling me names like honey bunch or sugar plum, or you will face the wrath of my detentions," The implication was clear in his speech: if anyone called Mr. Bane anything other than what was deemed appropriate- he wouldn't be very pleased, but the little humor thrown in there seemed to keep the class at ease.

There were a few half-hearted chuckles, and Mr. Bane placed his ruler down.

"Though in all seriousness, please remember yourselves and don't come into my class with hangovers or whatever it is you kids get up to at night," he drawled. Mr. Bane slinked to the front of the class, his long fingers steepled under his chin.

"Try and enjoy yourself, too. I can be cool when I want to be," Mr. Bane's eyes drifted over the class, and Alec watched him in fascination. He really couldn't look away... there was something about this odd, fashionable Mr. Bane that hypnotized him. Alec tilted his head to one side, watching his neck bob up and down as he hummed to himself.

He made the mistake of glancing upward, and found himself staring into a pair of pretty green eyes. Mr. Bane shot him a friendly wink, and then without another glance in Alec's direction, started pacing up and down the aisles between the desks and addressing the topics and units that his class would be covering in the year.

Alec froze, his eyes burning holes into the place where Mr. Bane had been just moments before.

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and it had nothing to do with the air conditioning.

When he thought about the quick, friendly wink and the odd look in his teacher's eyes, he mentally slapped himself and picked up his pencil.

You are an absolute freak, Alexander Lightwood.

This would surely be an interesting year. If he could keep focused.

"Alec, tell me how your first class was?"

Isabelle's almost-question roused him from his thoughts. He blinked, bringing his head up to face his sister.

French had been... odd, to say the least. As Mr. Bane rambled on about class expectations and his thoughts on croissants, Alec found himself studying every move his new teacher made. The man had an air about him that demanded attention. He moved like a feline, graceful. There was almost no sound that emitted from his feet as he paced the classroom, the exception being the quiet 'pat' of the leather as it connected with the linoleum.

His fingers, like those of a pianist, were wound together behind his back as he made his way through the students. His pronunciation of 'croissants', as silly as the word may be, made Alec swoon.

He turned in his seat, trying to look inconspicuous, in order to get a better look. Mr. Bane paused near one of the desks. A girl that Alec recognized from one of his old Calculus classes sat upright in her seat as he drew closer. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, her skin as fair as the hair on her head. Her lips were painted in a thick blood red, and she puckered them a little.

Alec rolled his eyes.

Obviously he wasn't the only one who had noticed the alluring Mr. Bane.

It was her belongings, a harsh pink binder that sat on top of her desk, open for the teacher to see, that caught his eye. He was impressively tall, taller than even Alec (which was quite an accomplishment), so he curved his back slightly to lean down and brush his index finger across the paper.

He mumbled something in her ear. Alec heard something along the lines of 'spelt wrong' and tried to hide his smile when the girl's mouth formed an 'o' shape, a perfectly fake surprise, and then she scrambled to find an eraser in her pencil case.

Camille, he remembered. Camille Belcourt. Quite good when it came to french, or so he had heard.

He snorted to himself.

The bell signalling the start of his next class interrupted Mr. Bane in mid-sentence. So, hastily shoving his papers and workbooks into his bag, Alec studied his time table once more, and then rushed off to History.

Now, after a grueling fifty minutes inside Mr. Graymark's classroom, Alec sat at the only spare table in the cafeteria. Isabelle, examining her nails and waiting for Alec to budge, sighed.

"Well? Are you going to tell me how it was?" she half-smiled, placing her elbows on the table top and then linking her fingers together. She rested her chin against her pale hands. "French, you said...?"

Alec nodded, grabbing at his juice to take a sip. "Yeah, it was alright," he shrugged, downing the O.J with what he hoped was a normal smile. Isabelle cocked an eyebrow, much like Mr. Bane had done-

-Stop thinking about your teacher.

"What?" he demanded, swiping at his mouth with the corner of his shirt. Isabelle glanced down in disgust, and then shrugged away the subject.

Isabelle was the only one in the family to know of his sexual preference, and he was glad even for the minimal amounts of time he had with her. Of course, she was rather... vulgar when it came to her questions, and he blushed just thinking about the time she had asked him about watching the boys change before Gym. "Okay, whatever- tell me later. I think that's Jace," she squinted in the direction of the entrance to the cafeteria, and as if on cue, Alec spotted a golden head bobbing up and down behind a group of sophomores.

The cafeteria was packed- full of teenagers wanting to escape the heat that lingered from summer.

And yet, in the sea of monotonous high schoolers, you could see Jace's smiling face a mile away. The boy in question moved with ease through the sophomores, turning to wink slyly back at a cute redhead (Alec noted that the boy beside her, the one with glasses the size of Jupiter, was glaring daggers).

Isabelle settled back in her plastic white chair, a thin grin on her face. "Making friends, hey?" she sing-songed. Jace rolled his eyes. "You know I can't pass up fresh meat. Plus, I don't think I've ever seen that girl before..."

He grabbed at the spare seat beside Alec, plonking himself down and resting his arms on the table. "Have you?" the blond turned around to face Alec, his golden eyes lit up in curiosity.

Alec blinked.

"Um, no," he stole a glance at the redhead, who had joined up with some other students and was now seated across the cafeteria in a chair beside glasses boy, "no I haven't" he replied. Jace breathed in through his nose, letting out an impatient exhale through his mouth. "Shame, might have to introduce myself."

Alec glanced down at his twiddling thumbs, contemplating getting up to grab a tray of boring, questionable school food- or to stick it out through the day and over indulge on potato chips when home. He didn't particularly feel like eating, but he knew if he didn't eat before second break came along- he'd end up with problematic stomach noises.

As Isabelle and Jace chatted on further into lunch time, Alec caught himself staring up at the roof. His left leg was growing numb, and he didn't find anything Jace or Isabelle talked about in the least bit interesting. Jace was rambling about his hook up with "this insane brunette" at a party last weekend, and Isabelle was ranting about how she loathed her Physics class with a passion.

The same, usual stuff. Soon, they would start fighting- and Alec would break it up like the responsible eighteen year old he was. But the conversation turned out to be heading a different direction than he thought, when the topic of new students came up.

"I don't know, maybe she's dating that dorky-looking dude"

"Iz, she's not dating him. They haven't exchanged a 'lover's glance' yet, and I doubt she'd want to go out with someone who wears glasses,"

Alec cut in, a frown on his face. "What's wrong with glasses? He seems alright..." But he wasn't looking at his friends, he was still aiming his eyes at the ceiling while picking on a thumbnail. Sometimes when he felt like he couldn't stand the boredom any longer, he joined in on the mindless chatter- but he didn't go out of his way to look like he was interested. He hoped they would pick up on the bored expression, soon enough.

Suddenly, Isabelle's dark eyes were saucers and she was waving her pale arms around on the tabletop.

"OH-OH-OH-OH Speaking of new people, did you see him?" She bared her pearly whites in a grin. Jace bit his lip, eyes flicking around the room as if he was trying to remember something. "I think I saw him in the parking lot this morning, bastard stole my usual spot..." he whined. Isabelle rolled her eyes skyward, shaking her head. "He's totally fine, but I don't know what he teaches. When I ran into the administration this morning I saw him talking to one of the office ladies, and I nearly collapsed." Jace looked bored with the conversation already, "he's alright, I guess..."

During the exchange, Alec's heart was beating faster than normal. Did she mean a new... teacher?

He swallowed, knowing the answer- and not wanting to admit it to his subconscious.

Who was she talking about?

And then, through the doors of the cafeteria, cursing his goddamn awful luck, Alec spotted a familiar head of spikes and a long, lean body walking towards the food line. Alec felt mortified. He wasn't planning on seeing Mr. Bane until tomorrow, and he didn't want Isabelle to read him like a book. Or Jace either, for that matter.

You find your french teacher interesting. You find him attractive. That is so weird.

Mr. Bane passed their table in a few quick strides. Isabelle held her breath, and then Alec heard her explode. She squealed a little bit, and Jace winced at the sound. He turned in his chair, trying not to draw attention to himself. The last thing he wanted was-

"Alec, do you know who it is?"

Shit.

You shouldn't even be nervous. They don't know what you're thinking, they have no fucking idea.

Alec faced Isabelle, fighting to keep his face expressionless. He knew for a fact that he wasn't very good at hiding what he felt, and Isabelle and Jace never let him live it down. Especially with a blush like his...

"H-He's my French teacher... Anyone hungry?" Alec coughed, trying to steer the conversation into another subject. He flicked his eyes back around to glance at the tall man. Mr. Bane was handing the lunch lady, who blushed like nobody's business, a few bills before picking an apple off the counter and strutting away. His teeth bit into the fruit, and Alec strained his eyes to see, to want to see, the beads of juice run down the corners of Mr. Bane's lips.

Alec stared.

"I might go get a pudding or something," Jace mumbled. He got up from his chair, and Alec didn't miss the way his eyes were focused on the redhead's lunch table, "I'll see you guys, later."

The golden boy swaggered off into the crowd of teenagers, and then was quickly swallowed up. Alec tried to look everywhere but at Isabelle. His eyes darted from the ceiling above him, to the chipping mint walls.

He didn't want to give her any reason to suspect anything.

-But there's nothing to suspect, Alec. You're just a teenage boy with gay hormones and you happen to be sexually attracted to your French teacher.

"So" Isabelle started, and then Alec gave in. He slowly drew his eyes from the walls, meeting his sister's dark eyes with his own light ones.

"French was 'alright', hey?" her mouth became a sly smile, and and her eyes sparkled with mischief.

Alec's head fell onto the table.

.

Should I continue? I really don't know. Let me know if you liked it. I kind of want to embarrass Alec some more. So review and let me know what you thought? I'm open to criticism too, just try and refrain from flaming.. for the love of Malec guys, please don't :3

I also have a vague sort of idea where I could take this story, but nothing has been planned out as of yet. I sort of sat down one night and just started typing, and this is the result. I can have a massive brainstorm if I get enough reviews, I suppose. I don't know!

If you have any ideas let me know! I'm open to suggestions?

Thanks for reading lovelies :) I hope it wasn't too bad and I hope you had a good new years!

^-^
nym.