▓ = caught stealing their belongings.
( EMOTICON MEME : NOT ACCEPTING ) ▓ : caught stealing their belongings.
this particular tutoring session is unfolding in the exact same manner as all of their other sessions: very poorly. mona hears the ‘thump’ of yisoo’s football hitting the wall for the umpteenth time and resists the nearly overwhelming urge to dropkick it far, far away. for one thing, yisoo would be likely to throw an emphatic fit over being parted from his only love; and secondly, after aforementioned fit, he’d dart off in the direction of that goddamned ball, and mona would end up in a tutoring sessions sans her tutee. he’d already answered all of her last ten questions with the word “mitochondria” ( despite the fact that she had told him multiple times that they were actually learning statistics and therefore cell structure was irrelevant ), a clear signifier that they were going absolutely nowhere with today’s meeting.
so she’s instead switched gears to studying for her own class, thumbing over pages of neatly printed notes and labeled diagrams for her summer genetics course. mona is so absorbed in her calculations for the probability of a child inheriting male-pattern baldness from his grandfather that she nearly fails to notice the hand that is slowly shifting one of her note pages away from her pile – nearly.
“what are you doing, yisoo?” her query is posed sharply to gain his attention. quirked eyebrow, pointed gaze, and a mouth pulled downwards into an unimpressed frown, mona eyes her unruly pupil with a potent mixture of confusion and annoyance. then she realizes the paper he’d been trying to steal – the one labeled ‘gross fly eye mutation thing’, that she’d told him about to his intense curiosity. she didn’t realize how much he’d been interested in what she said – boys and their weird fascination with grotesque objects.
“nope. no way. i’m showing you this only if you tell me how to properly test a single-sample population when its parameters are undefined,” mona responds promptly, snatching the picture from his grip and returning it to the myriad of papers in her hands. “i’ll even give you a hint for the answer: it’s not mitochondria.”