Maybe Someday-Page 2

Hey.
So I think my first page of Maybe Someday went pretty good. Let's try another. Ellie (from On The Other Side Of Reality) gave a great suggestion of including more of the main character's thoughts. In this page I will.

      The cafeteria is chaos, as usual. Although, I note to myself, it seems even crazier today! I wonder what's up? The four long tables have people scurrying to and fro, and food flies through the air. Have some manners! I think. Then again, no one in the room had ever been taught manners for the most part. Nobody took the time to teach us to be polite, wait our turn, show kindness, or any normal things people would expect kids to know. I picked up most of that from books, and I guess some of it is just my nature. I'm not as rowdy as the majority of my orphan friends.
    I realize the lunch line has moved on without me. I continued down to the line, sliding my plastic tray of mushy oatmeal and a banana down the counter. At the end I grab a carton of milk and scan the room for a table to sit at. Of course, it's full. I squeeze myself in, between Sarah and a boy I don't know. He has blue eyes, untidy blonde hair, and a splatter of freckles across his nose. He's shouting at a boy at another table. 
    "Hey Ginger." Sarah nods to me quickly before resuming to her noisy chat with a younger girl with bouncy caramel curls. 
     "Can you believe it?" Caramel-curls exclaimed. "I know right!" Sarah practically yelled. I don't blame her. It's kind of hard to hear with all the kids jabbering at once. 
     "What can't you believe?" I asked, curious. 
      "HUH?" The girl asked, twisting to look at me. 
       I said louder, "WHAT IS UNBELIEVABLE?" Sarah gasped, "You haven't heard yet?" "What?" I ask, starting to peel my banana. "A third-building-boy got adopted this morning!" Sarah told me, eagerly spreading the news. The curly-haired girl looked disappointed that she wasn't the one to pass the gossip.
      I gasped, "You're kidding!" That's impossible! I think. In our orphanage, there are three buildings. First-building is for little kids and babies, who need to be watched a lot. You stay there until you're 8. Then you move to second-building, where you stay till you're 13. I just turned 13, so now I'm in the third building. That's where you stay for five years until they kick you out so you can figure out life. Third-building-ers NEVER get adopted. It's just a fact of life. No one wants to adopt teenagers.
     "Yeah, it's true!" Sarah said. "Who was it?" I ask. Did I know him? "Someone called Thomas." Sarah replies. "Tom?!" I exclaim. Thomas was a messy tall boy with awful handwriting and a tendency to pick his nose. Ugh. 
     I should be happy for Thomas, but I'm not. Through all my thirteen years, nobody that has come here has wanted me. No one. That really dents your self-esteem, you know? I want to get adopted, and chances are, it'll never happen. My hope has diminished through the years. When I was a first-building, I tried to act cute and impress anyone who walked near me, just in hopes that they'd take me away from the orphanage. I've always hated it. As a second-building, I didn't do that, but I still would freak out any time there was even the faintest possibility that someone was considering adopting me. But now, as a third, I have only a tiny speck of hope left. One that is nearing extinction. 
     Maybe someday, I'll get my hope back?

As always, thank you for reading, and please nicely critique in the comments. Thank you!