Ten minutes later, Nora, Tom, and I are boarding a cable care to go (gag) shopping.
“Have I mentioned how much I hate shopping? And going out in public in my pajamas?” Tom asks.
“Yes,” I answer, “you have mentioned that, Tom.”
“Well it’s true.” He crosses his arms as rain starts to fall from the overhanging grey clouds.
“Darn it!” Nora glares at the rain and glances at the two of us, who are wonderstruck with awe at the sight of our element, water. The Taurus makes her way inside the cable car as Tom and I each grab a pole and lean out into the street. My thick pigtails, light brown and short, become damp with the falling drops of my element as my unzipped sweatshirt sways with my hair and loose pants in the sharp California wind.
San Francisco is actually really rainy. You would think it’s sunny and warm, ‘cause it’s California or whatever, but a lot of the time it’s foggy and wet and sometimes chilly in the summer. Granted, it’s not summer, it’s mid-May and shades of coloured tulips line up in front of the pretty pastel houses, adding splashes of colour to the grey morning.
'"Anna."Tom taps my shoulder and points to a little girl in a polo dress spinning in the rain, her blonde braids whipping around in the spring air.
“Aw,” I coo. “She reminds me of myself. Minus the dress.”
“I know. That’s why I pointed her out.” He smiles at me.
The young girl runs down the sidewalk, tumbling down the hill in her bare feet. Bare feet?
"She’s not wearing any shoes.” I point out.
“No. She’s not. She probably just got up and her parents don’t know she’s out here.”
“Probably.”
Nora comes out of the main part of the car and informs us that ‘her’ store is coming up. We hop off the cable car as it’s still moving, which is probably illegal but we do it every time.
She frowns at the two of us. “You’re soaking wet.”
“No, you’re kidding! I hadn’t even noticed!” I say, looking at myself.
“Alright, can we just get a dress and get out of here?” Tom looks up at the sign of the store in front of us. “Carrots,” he reads. “What do they sell? Carrots?”
“Clothes.” Nora corrects.
“Carrots could be used as clothes,” Tom argues.
Nora and I stare at him. “How?”
“I’m sure you could sew carrot shavings together and make a dress. Some girl in Ripley’s did it with corn cobs.”
“Praesepe, you’re weird,” I follow Nora into the store, leaving Tom in the doorway.
"Pray-seep?”
“Pre-see-pee. Star in Cancer.” I’m half expecting him to point out the fact I’ve said ‘pee,’ but he doesn’t. He only narrows his eyebrows at me.
“Ah, of course, you’re a Cancer. You’re a crab. You keep everything balled up inside your shell and you can’t trust anybody.” He says angrily, as if I’m keeping something from him; which I am.
“Tom,” I say quietly, watching Nora going through dresses, “don’t.”
He doesn’t back off. “Would it kill you to tell me your story?”
“No,” I reply, “but it might kill you.”
“Ooh, dramatic!” He wiggles his fingers at me in angst; this doesn’t faze him in the least. I’m just hoping he won’t start my way of finding out things – secrets for secrets. “Back story for a back story?” He offers.
