“Thank you, Mildred,” I say as she plops a piece of French toast on my tray.
“You’re welcome, hon. Have a good one,” she winks at me.
“You too,” I take my tray and look around the large cafeteria for my friends. I don’t have to look very long; Sam’s bright red hair is like a neon sign pointing to him.
“Hey,” I slide into an empty seat next to Nora.
“Hey yourself,” Sam says from across the table. He’s wearing a shirt that shows a dog eating bacon next to a pig. YOUR FRIENDS ARE DELICIOUS! It reads.
I look down our table for the others.
I guess there are only four people I haven’t introduced you to yet.
Ivy Kowalski is a Leo, born August 15 with blonde hair and golden eyes. The most prominent part of her are the two long scars across her neck, though no one knows the origin of them. She’s definitely more popular than the rest of us, and none of us are really sure why she hangs out with any of us.
Jill Engle, a Libra born September 27, has light brown hair and greyish-hazel eyes. She’s probably the nicest person I know.
Judy Dawson, our shy girl, with black hair and silvery-white eyes. She’s a Virgo Child, born on September 5.
And lastly, Patrick Smith. With his jet black hair and ice blue eyes, he’s a Sagittarius, born December 14.
So that’s us. Eleven Children that aren’t entirely comfortable with each of the other.
“Anna?”
I look up to meet the sparkling hazel eyes of Isaac.
“Oh… hi, Isaac,” I’m a bit surprised to see he’s already settled in.
“Can I sit with you guys?”
“Um…” I glance at Jill. She’s nodding, eager to make a new friend.
"I would just go with it, Anna,” Ivy says. “It’s not like another guy actually wants to sit next to you.”
“Is this like, our cue to leave or something?” Tom asks.
“I’m just going to ignore both of those statements and invite Isaac to sit with us,” I say.
“Thanks,” Isaac mumbles, sitting in the empty chair next to me.
Judy smiles. “Now we have everybody,” she says quietly.
“What do you mean?” Patrick doesn’t look up from his plate when he asks this.
“We have every sign now. Cancer, Taurus,” she points to Nora and me. “Aquarius, Scorpio, Aries, Gemini, Libra, Virgo, Sagittarius, Capricorn,” she gestures to each person as she says their sign. “And Isaac is Pisces,” Judy beams and messes with on e of her tussled braids.
Patrick murmurs something under his breath.
I stare at her. How would she have known Isaac is a Pisces? I hadn’t told her, and she hadn’t met him prior to today.
I shake my head. Someone probably told her, that’s all.
She’s right about having everybody, though. We have twelve people at our long table, one of each sign.
Kind of an odd coincidence, don’t you think?
