| Bonnie sits at a table enjoying a special blend, her reward to herself. She'd just finished dropping off a delivery of special teas to the tearoom and she's taking a break. A blueberry scone in front of her, she's skimming through pages on her tablet, an intense grimace on her face. Late afternoon on a Saturday, and the sun is heading towards setting, the light glaring the horizon.
Saturday finds Etienne on his way home from the club-- Sunset Tides, that is, where a day of horseback riding and fresh air has left him reinvigorated and ready to face down the weekend's homework. A hempen tote bag sits in the back basket of his bike, and, after he's chained his transportation up outside, he heads in with fingers winding about a pen, looking for a bit of tea and a place to sit and finish off his Geometry. "Wh-- oh. Hey," he recognizes Bonnie from said class.
Bonnie blinks, looking up from her seat at the table. "Oh, hey." She says, in way of response. She switches screens on the tablet, returning it to the start page. "What's up?" She asks with a smile.
Etienne shakes his head in a slow, easy gesture, lifting his tote to his side and aiming it toward one of the seats, brows cocked upward in a tacit inquiry as to whether he can join her. "Quiet Saturday," he answers her, finally, "All that can be asked for after last night's festivities, n'est pas?" he smiles. "Bonnie, isn't it?" He's new to school this year, but has been here basically from the start of the school year. Most people are still pretty sure he's the French foreign exchange student.
Bonnie nods and moves her stuff, making room. "What happened last night? Oh... The spanking. That's right." She says with a sly giggle. She pours herself another cup from the kettle. "Would you like some of this, or something from the menu? I'm sure there's a barista.. er, well, whatever passes for a barista in this type of place." She takes a sip. "It is quiet, but I hear that's going to change later. The creme de la creme are gonna be whooping it up at the country club."
"The spanking, as you say, and the subsequent gathering a la discotheque," Etienne replies, settling down into the seat he'd half-staked a moment ago, resting his bag's strap over the chair back and leaning over the tabletop a short ways. "At Sunset Tides? I just left from there, I hadn't heard there was to be a gathering. Nor can I quite imagine those who populate the club ever doing something so plebeian as to 'whoop,'" he adds, with a crooked grin that moves the comment away from being utterly snooty, toward the realm of satirizing said snootiness.
Bonnie rolls her eyes at the thought of a gathering. "Only in Lantern Hills can we celebrate having our head handed to us. Any excuse to party, I guess." She sips her tea. "I dunno. One of the 'it' girls is celebrating being lucky enough to have survived another year. I'm sure after a few pops, she'd definitely be a "Whoo!" girl." She even throws her arms up in the air to mock.
Etienne draws his phone from his bag, having evidently felt his bag quiver with the receipt of some message or other. "Beg pardon," he notes to his conversational companion, checking it quickly. "Is this 'it' girl Ms. Dalton, perchance?" he asks, setting his phone face-down. He seems duly but mutedly amused by the impression of a party girl at work, leaning back in his seat and crossing one leg casually over the other. "Will you be in attendance for the party?"
Bonnie shrugs. "I dunno who she is. I do my best to stay away from that crowd, and that means avoiding the party..." She stops, a smirk reaching her face.. "Unless I protest outside at the waste of money.." She giggles to herself, really amused at the idea.
"I fear that I have been scheduled in attendance," Etienne smiles easily. "If it is the very same party you're speaking of. My grandmother is quite keen to see me introduced to the 'proper' people," he shakes his head, pulling a slender purple folder out of his hempen bag, opening it to some geometry homework and sliding a pen that had been hooked onto the inside of the folder free to begin to work through several problems. "I suppose that means I should really go home and have a bath, unless I wish to attend the party smelling of the stables. For which," he appends, with a gracious cant of his head, "I of course apologize."
Bonnie chuckles. "I don't mind, but yeah. Those plastic girls will bear offense." She sips her tea. "How're you doing in geometry?" She asks, spying the boy's work.
"H'm," Etienne gives one, short, pleasant laugh. "It's fine, it's not that hard, but I already took a comparable course in Nice. I was learning calculus before we moved, so most of this is review. I tried to move into more advanced maths, but it's school policy for all Juniors to take geometry." His pen moves over the paper as he speaks, hardly seeming to think about it. His handwriting is gorgeous. A perfectionist's cursive that would not look out of place on a wedding invitation.
Bonnie rolls her eyes. "Of course. It's the school's way of keeping everyone in a damn cookie cutter." She watches. "Is that a French thing?" She asks, meaning the handwriting.
"Hm? Yeah," Etienne chuckles. "It was a matter of particular concern to our tutors, to make sure we could write in a proper hand. Mom wouldn't even let us on a computer until we began to have to write papers for school. She always said that it would ruin our handwriting to let it atrophy in favor of typing skill."
Bonnie shrugs and nods. "I believe she's write. They don't focus on it over here so much anymore, between printing and email.." She shrugs. "It's like typing class. Extinct." She chuckles before taking another sip of tea, finishing her cup. "Well, I need to get back to the shop." She says, standing. "Come by the apothecary. I help my mom out there." She says, grabbing her bag.
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