Myrrine could do little but walk Van to his seat. Grumbling and groaning, he got a book out of his bag. Scowling and pouting, he opened it at a random page.
"Copy out that chapter." Myrrine told him.
She knew the instruction would fall on deaf ears, after the detention passed, he'd have written nothing. She wasn't sure he would even turn a single page. It felt like a shame, as both Van and herself were wasting there time here.
Slapping his notepad down, and plucking a couple of pens out. Van was blissfully unaware, as Myrrine took a tiny sample of his hair, with a swift snip of a pair of nail scissors hidden in her hand.
- - - - -
Returning to her desk at the head of the class. She couldn't help but be a little impressed by his dedication to refusing to bend. If only that determination could be directed into a more productive avenue.
It was with this goal, that she massaged, the hair into the clay figure of Van: her voodoo doll. Her manipulations hidden behind a propped up, and open text book.
Van didn't realise neither of them were planning on reading in that detention.
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