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Andrea wasn't the only one who enjoyed packing lunches for the time it saved from waiting in the sluggish, noisy lines at the cafeteria; when the student density was at its peak one could risk wasting most of their eating time waiting to get and pay for their food. It was also Chicken Nugget Day, which meant that the traffic was pretty much doubled in thickness as students scrambled to get one of three items on the school lunch menu that was slightly more than tolerable to eat (the other two being two varieties of pizza).

Nora was not much of a chicken nugget person herself, however, and as such she had her lilac-colored lunch pack dangling from her arm as she weaved across the large room, looking for a place to sit. Or, rather, the place she usually sat at. A necklace of plastic Mardi Gras beads could be seen draped over her shoulders as she drew near, sparkling gaudily under the cafeteria's harsh fluorescent lights -- Janice hadn't wanted them. She'd allowed Nora to take them without complaint. Nora had been delighted.

She was also delighted to notice that Andrea Gyfford had picked the same table he'd always used, and promptly picked her way over like she usually did.

"Andy, you changed your chair!" the girl gushed, as if it were a more exciting and uplifting development than just a desire for a slight change of pace. "How are you doing? Did your test go alright? What about your dance practice?"

"You'll have a lot more fun with English when you start junior year, hon," Nora assured, graciously accepting her chocolate and starting the delicate process of unwrapping it. She was one of the types who liked to keep the little paper ribbon intact and smooth the foil out into a neat, tiny square even though it would end up crumpled into a metallic rice grain when it was finally tossed in the trash. "At least if you get Mr. Gordon, he's like a stage magician who decided to become a teacher. Or a teacher who secretly wants to be a stage magician, I'm not entirely sure."

With a beaming smile she removed aforementioned bling, and handed it out to Andrea to inspect: "Mardi Gras. And Shakespeare. Like I said, I think you'll really like learning about British literature starting next semester."

Thump went a lunch box onto the table, and plop went Robin's butt into the chair. She didn't even hesitate one moment for a greeting, but launched directly into a booming gasp, "OH MY GOD GUYS YOU WILL NEVER GUESS WHAT HAPPENED IN GYM CLASS TODAY."

Taking over conversations really ought to be some sort of a sport; if only it was, Robin would never have to work a day in her life. She was practically a Hall-of-Fame initiate already. All it took was a loud voice, a story hook, and a complete disregard for the conversation already in progress - all things that she had spent years acquiring.

"Really, guys," the pink-haired girl dished out as she fiddled with the clasps on her lunch box, "it was awesome. You know the coach's assistant?" Paul or Pat or something, his name was - Robin didn't really care, she had a feeling that the guy was destined for a very short career at Meadowview, what with his short temper. "Well we were running laps outside, and it started raining, right? So everyone's complaining about getting wet, but the coach tells us that we can't until we finish the mile. And then Paul, he's all that's right so quit whining, twerps, and coach just turns and looks at him, standing under an umbrella doing nothing, and goes, yeah that's right Paul, why don't you show them how it's done!" The lunch box opened at last, but Robin wasn't even looking at what her fingers were doing, so involved in her story-telling was she. "So then he has to run out in the wet with the rest of us peons, except then when he's making fun of the slow runners, jogging right in front of them and slowing down so much that they have to speed up and get around him, he trips over a rock and bites asphalt! GUYS IT WAS EPIC, I am telling you, there is justice in this universe!"

Robin, as usual, was very passionate about karma. Even when she wasn't the one dishing it out.

Her story thus completed, the girl inhaled - it was unclear whether she'd stopped to breathe even once in that whole spiel - and dug her sandwich out of the box. Wednesday was pack-your-own-damn-lunch in the Goodfellow household - Robin's mother took a day off of cooking in order to visit her grandmother, so Robin got to make her own meal. Today, it was peanut butter and gummi worms -- though, if her mother asked, Robin would of course claim some sort of healthier fare, like chicken salad or something. Just to be safe.

"So. Anything interesting happen with you guys?" Robin took her first bite of the sandwich, pulling at one of the embedded candies with her teeth until it snapped free. Most satisfying sandwich, ever.

Andrea started to respond to Nora on the topic of chemistry class combustion when Robin sat down and started her story. The boy smiled wryly and shut his mouth, letting her talk, but frowned when she mentioned the rain and glanced at the window. They were too far away to be able to tell if it was actually raining at the moment, but he could at least tell it was still grey outside. He had gym after lunch (why should anyone have gym right after lunch? So bad for you if you didn't have time for your food to settle, especially if they had to run the mile again), and so the weather was relevant to his interests.

He was fit and generally did well with running due to his own extracurricular activities, but was still not terribly fond of how gym class was run. "Yeah, he's done stuff like that to the kids in my class, too," he muttered on the topic of the gym teacher's aide, one corner of his mouth tugging upwards in a grimace of distaste. "Hopefully that bruised his ego worse than anything else, and just enough that he'll lay off of the kids in my class." Andrea retrieved another kiss from his box of candies, and reached out to offer it to Robin.

"Was it still raining when you went inside, though?" he went on, changing the subject. "I hope not because it was chilly enough outside earlier today. And I don't mind running, but it sucks when it's raining."

The boy's mood brightened a bit as Nora dished out the cake, and he sighed and laughed. "Oh, geeze, Nora, you brought us forks and everything?" Seriously, the girl was too nice. "Happy birthday again," he told her, accepting the slice and raising the fork to her in a toasting gesture. And then, the obligatory stupid question: "Now that you've had a few days' experience, how does it feel to be a year older?"

Oh, great, Robin finally remembered, Andrea observed with a soft laugh to himself. He bent down to rummage in his own backpack, and pulled out a small box wrapped in paper covered with birds in various shades of pink ("Valentine's Day paper" officially, but it seemed very Nora).

Inside was a little capelet he had picked up at the store where he got his dance costumes; leftover from Halloween, and so conveniently on sale, the little shoulder cape was black, trimmed with white faux-fur, and lined with shiny fabric decorated with silvery stars. It seemed very magician-like, and he figured the black and silver combination would match whatever top hat Robin would buy.

Grinning, he presented the box to Nora as well, though with considerably less flair than his pink-haired friend.

"You're just a bunny rabbit and a snazzy light show away from Vegas," Robin promised her with a silly smile. The present was a couple days late, but that didn't seem to bother Nora not one bit - which was probably good, because most everything Robin ever did on a schedule wound up like that. At least Andrea had been willing to wait to present his part of the one-two gift combo. If he'd given Nora a gift and Robin hadn't until days later, she might've looked bad. Nora might not have given her any cake.

Spearing another bite of said dessert, Robin commented: "I betcha that I could get an A/V kid to do the light show, though. When do you think you'll be ready to do your big stage debut?"

Her little display of showmanship complete, Nora returned to her table and went back to attending to her sandwich, though she was still grinning giddily through the bites. It was true she would have loved the gift anytime, birthday or otherwise; she was always appreciative of the thought behind the action of giving, and enjoyed being the recipient by random presents as much as she liked being the giver.

"A talent show? Hmm, I'm not sure, that's a good question," she answered, idly tapping her fork on the table at the thought. "I think they're going to start auditioning for the stage production pretty soon, though, someone in my Government class mentioned seeing Mr. Gordon with his recruitment folder again. Not to mention the principal's starting to get a bit antsy again, apparently."

She gave a shrug, the large curls of her hair bouncing behind her shoulders. "So, I'm not sure. We could always ask around about it, though. Or," and she gave another sunny smile, "we could wait and see. The semester isn't going to end without something happening on stage, that much we can count on."