Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Trent grabbing a roll out of the basket and slipping it into his pocket. Food hoarding. I’ve seen other foster kids do that. He must have gone hungry a lot when he was younger. Chris catches me watching Trent and sneers at me. I roll my eyes and grab a slice of cake.

They’ve set up a long table for us so we can all sit together. Guess we’re supposed to be bonding or something. No thanks. Chris and Trent take a different table and I sit at another one, by myself. If I’m lucky it’ll stay that way.

The blue-haired girl, whose badge I finally see—Zoe Chang—hovers between our tables with her tray. She’s tiny, probably not even five foot tall, and with her bright bob, she looks like a pixie or something. She studies Chris and Trent, who eat in silence, hostility rising off them in invisible waves. She must figure I’m a safer bet because she finally joins me. Of course.

“Thanks for your help earlier,” Adam says, as his tray hits the table. He sits across from us. There go my plans for a quiet lunch.

I give a curt nod and avoid making eye contact. Maybe if I don’t answer he’ll leave me alone.

“This is unbelievable, right? This time travel stuff?” He doesn’t touch his food, and instead folds and unfolds his napkin over and over. Must be a nervous tick.

I ignore him and shove food in my mouth. After living with many other kids for years, I’m in the habit of eating quickly, and I don’t want to talk to this guy anyway. I’ll be spending the next twenty-four hours with him, which is more than enough time already. I’m not here to make friends. I just need to make it through this day so I can get on with my life.

“Here.” Adam shoves something across the table toward me. His napkin, folded in the shape of a dog or something. No, a horse. With a horn.

An origami unicorn.

“You made this?” It’s a dumb question since I just saw him make it, but I’m so thrown off by his gift that I don’t know what to say.

“Yeah.” He shrugs and pokes at his food with his fork. “Sorry it’s not very good. It would be better with the right kind of paper, but all I had were these flimsy napkins.”

I slide the origami unicorn closer to me, rubbing my fingers over the precise folds of the napkin. People don’t make things for me. Not like this anyway.

“Thanks.” I meet Adam’s eyes for the first time. Bright blue and intelligent, shining out from behind his black-rimmed glasses. The kind of eyes that never miss a thing. He smiles and I quickly look down at my food.