Honey flushes a vibrant shade of red and glances down at the sheet, up at Rocco. Bees, yeah. He studies bees. Bees are like, his thing. He takes the sheet in both hands and writes down his name in precise, exacting script, and then his school assigned email. "Oh-- good. Thank you. I've never really joined a club before?"

Well, he's been in clubs. But he didn't go about joining them of his own volition. He hands the clipboard back over and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose once more.