Adam has yet to try his food when the man approaches and sits at his table. The explanation for the heated looks from another table is welcome. Not that Adam Parrish is used to being liked or popular, but usually there's a reason going into whatever someone feels about him. He's had to wonder if, even here, in these new clothes, they could tell that he's from the wrong side of town.

"They'd probably hate us less if we weren't called 'specials'." It makes it seem like they're better in some way, right? Which, they're not... right? "Like we're being set up for failure in the interpersonal relations department."

He makes himself look away from the other table, still wondering why the animosity is there in the first place. It's not like he had a choice in being here, in being (supposedly) cloned. Adam still isn't sure what he believes in what he was told and what he doesn't believe.

His fingers, dirt under the nails as always, curl around the handle of his spoon. "I'm Adam." His gaze gradually lifts to meet Ray's eyes, briefly, before he looks back to whatever this food is in front of him. "I don't really understand why we're here."