<strong>James - Detention Hall</strong><br/><br/>He watched her as she wrote the return note. He eyes were drawn to her hair, being twirled between her fingers, the small twitch of her eyes, rolling thoughtfully as she thought about someone that she disliked intensely, then the tip of her lips arced up and a half-smiled. She wrote rather fast, and he handwriting was thin and precise. When she wasn't surrounded by her cheerleader friends, she was actually rather nice. Of course, when her friends were around, she had an image to live up to, and that tended to screw things around a little. When she was out of detention, she probably would never talk to him again. They hung out sometimes at the same places, and knew enough about each other to claim to be acquaintances, but in general, James was less of a 'cool' person, and therefore, she couldn't be seen doing anything with him. School was cruel like that.<br/><br/>He looked over the note, and chuckled. He had had a few run-ins with Mrs. Woolard himself, none of them had been pretty. Never ended him in detention, though, since he wasn't the type that ended up being a good example. More often than not, kids ended up hating the teacher more than fearing her. He shook his head. Detention was not where he wanted to be right about now. He was hungry, and hoped he would have enough time to snag something to eat before he had to trudge off to class again.<br/><br/><em>None taken. This place is rather lame anyway, no matter how you got here. I usually just listen to music, although I am not here -that- often. How about you?</em><br/><br/>His eyes flickered up to meet hers as his powerful arm moved over to place the note back on her desk.