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At the public restroom, the effeminate lad couldn't help but reflect over the past couple weeks. His first big surprise had been the black mark he received in P.E. Yet, Howl was intelligent enough to figure out it probably had to do with that Dodge ball game. He had earned a bit more respect after his feats in the game, but he most definitely stood out that day. The bag-check before leaving that day had also been a bit of a surprise, but seeing as the school was basically a prison, it would make sense. There was no such thing as privacy in jails, so why would Hillworth be any different?

Stepping out of the rest room, Howl smoothed out his outfit. Where as his companion had gone relatively casual, the transfer student had selected some of his more formal looking clothing. A dress shirt, necktie, sweater vest, slacks, and of course, his jewelry. He wore a pair of sunglasses on the top of his head as well, just in case the sun was too bright. As he was thinking vaguely over how he had to overdress to help get his real gender across, he felt the slight sting of being slapped on the shoulder.

He turned and found the rather casual Franz there, grinning as wide as his mouth possibly could. Returning a polite smile of his own, he responded "The freedom tastes deliciously sweet, Franz. It makes me miss the life I had before Hillworth."

For a moment, Howl glanced towards the stores lining the streets ahead. This was his first time really getting to go out on his since he had moved to the school. He had made a quick stop the day he arrived to the school at a cafe, but it was only now that the lad regretted his lack of attention to the various street names.

Returning his attention to Franz, Howl supplied his roommate one more smile and made his request. "If at all possible, I would like to stop some place where there is tea for purchase. Perhaps a cafe?" Where Howl usually remained quite calm, his voice had a hint of eagerness to it today.

The cafe was buzzing pleasantly; at the table next to her, a young man was attempting -- with difficulty -- to order. "One mocha," he said, and then he hesitated. "And one tea," he finally said, lowering his voice as though he were, in fact, asking for pornography.

"What kind of tea does your girlfriend want?"

"Um," said the young man. "He's a he, and the feelings I have for him are completely platonic, he's wearing a tie, he's my bro -- "

"Oh god," said the poor waitress. "Uh, I'm really sorry, completely sorry, I wasn't looking properly. I mean, it's obvious, I'm sorry -- "

"Don't be sorry to me, be sorry to him, the dude can't help being beautiful," said Franz St. Germaine. "And what was it, Howl, an Earl Grey? This is why people think you're a chick. -- Anyway, one mocha too like I said, with sprinkles."

Once the waitress had left, after another apology, Franz ran one hand through his gelled blonde hair and looked harried. "Maybe you should grow a beard, fraternas," he suggested, though out of the corner of his eye his sight had fallen on Bell.

"I'm not used to being in a cafe," he said. "This is like, my mother's kind of thing. Maybe a McCafe. Sorry, I tend to jump the gun with orders." Franz was scratching a little at his collar, possibly a sign of anxiety. "My girlfriends all used to hate it. Not that you're my girlfriend."

At least this had been reinforced, twice. Franz kept on squinting off into the distance: the source of his interest was obvious. And he soon cheered up. "Anyway, I'm not complaining," he said. "I never actually thought to do the 'tea shop' angle. High five."

Howl by now knew the score. They high-fived. Franz enjoyed high-fiving.

The waitress got to them with their orders with unusual quickness -- probably due to embarrassment -- and Franz was cordial with her now. Franz rarely held a grudge. Even better, alongside their orders were two sugar cookies, obviously embarrassment freebies: Howl's roommate lit up, golden eyes aglow.

"Nice," he said. "Perfect. All right, watch me work, Wickham. Let's get heterosexual."

Let's get heterosexual was by NO means a rallying cry. However, Franz had deftly scooped up the cookie in a napkin, gotten out of his chair and turned around to the table next to them -- the one with the pretty, fawn-haired girl reading a sheaf of papers.

"Hey," he said to her. Howl could see the usual intense stare his roomie tended to give people when he was concentrating. "My friend and I aren't really into sugar, so I was wondering -- you hungry? This is untouched by humane hand."

Bell, who had been paying no mind to the two, and was meerly concentrating on her memorization, was jumped out of it when the blonde boy turned to her table, and said 'hey.'

It took Bell a moment, after her little jump to register what the boy was asking - her mind in a tizzy - but then she gave a smile, and pushed some of her hair behind her ear, a tale-tell academy charm coming forth.

"I'm not particularly hungry myself...are you sure you and your friend do not want them? In to sugar or no, I know every once in a while, a small indulgence-- Oh! Forgive me, my name is Bell. Bell McMahon."

"Being discrete" must have been a foreign concept to Franz. The effeminate lad had watched the whole display casually while sipping on his cup of tea. He had analyzed his roommate's actions on multiple occasions and found him to be a puzzle, so he figured his analysis should mainly be of this girl. She seemed to be polite, for she didn't simply brush his friend away. The simple gesture with her hand brushing her hair meant she could be nervous, or attempting to gain attention through her appearance. She seemed distracted as well, noting how she went from one topic to another so quickly.

In contrast, his companion seemed a bit brash. Secret hand signals usually had a tendency to fail, if not now, in the future. He also came across to Howl as intense, which was not the best thing for a cafe in his own opinion.

Taking one more sip of his tea, he set his cup on the coaster his order had arrived on and smiled towards the two. He did not get up, but remained sitting with proper posture. Had this girl any doubts about Howl's gender, they would have been cleared up when he returned the greetings with his own.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Bell McMahon. Your parents were ever so kind in gracing you with such an elegant name. As my friend stated, my name is Howl Wickham." He smiled kindly at the girl, then glanced to Franz, as if to see what he would do next in this situation.

Franz drew up his chair to Bell's table, throwing his leg over the back of it as he crossed his arms. He was grinning at her now -- if Howl was Elegant Cop, Franz was Familiar Cop, because no sooner than had Bell graciously thanked Howl than he had reached out for her hand. Before she could protest, he'd flipped it over.

"Do you know I read palms, Miss McMahon?" he said conversationally. "Let's see. Oh. Huh. Hmm." The boy made a show of examining the lines of her hand. "Holy cow! Okay, you're a Crystal Academy girl and you have a hot dorm mate."

Bell's hand was released, and Franz sat back in his chair after another wink at Howl. Franz never looked remotely lost for words -- or embarrassed, especially when he should have looked embarrassed. "Sorry for molesting your hand," he said, not looking sorry at all. "Am I right, though? I'm so right."

After a moment, apropos of nothing, he said: "What would you do without me, Howl!"

Bell pulled her hand away and gave a look that was a mix between play and suspicion.
"Good sir, have you been spying on me?"

Of course, Franz had been spot on, so it really did make her wonder. She knew it was probably easy enough to tell which school she hailed from, but she had only just recieved her room mate. Though, Bell thought, He could just be making up something. Mmhn, that's probably it! Oh what guys would do, all in the name of flirting! Oh well, it was fun!

Now, where Franz came off rather strong, Bell found Howl's pleasant compliments drawing a light blush to her cheeks.
"Oh, I don't mind, really. I almost know this script by heart anyway. The two of you wouldn't be interested in attending a production of The Secret Garden, would you? I‘m playing Lilly."
It was shameless advertising, Bell knew, but oh well!