Really all Liam had to do was call him a fuckboy and little and Van was ready to pound his face in. But the werewolf went on, really digging his own grave. Van snarled, a mixture between eagerness for blood and snickering at Liam's attempts to incite him to violence. He was really trying too hard.
Van took the second shove, but that was it. This was no longer a pushing match. It was a fight. Van pushed off the lockers and grabbed for Liam's collar, hammering down his fist as he collided with the other boy. His fist was coming down to strike Liam's cheekbone and Van's lower body was intent on destabilizing Liam so he'd fall down. He was through with talking. This fight had been a long time coming and no amount of detention would make Van regret making it happen.