Hidden Valley (D. SWING)

VIII. Virgin Lips

They sit in the cafeteria.

Both are eating a corndog out of celebration, as well as defeat. Cynthia and Don both have had a rough day that they're sure cannot get any better. On the bright side... they got the job! Training starts this Saturday morning. On the downside, both have had a rough time dealing with this blurry day. Cynthia looks up at Don, he's casually chewing as he picks up his drink. The naturally oblivious expression on his face forces her to look down.

"Thanks for lunch, Cyn." He says to her.

They'd spent the entire lunch period at school talking in his car. It wasn't planned, but it happened anyway.

Cynthia sets her empty stick down on a napkin. "I think Marley likes you," she blurts. "I think Marley likes you, I think she likes you a lot and it would really mean a lot to me if you'd ask her out or something. I don't know. Flirt with her or something. I'd say take her to homecoming but it's too early. Do something to make her day, would you? I don't want you to go on a pity date with her because if she finds out I put you up to it, I'm dead. It'd just be nice if you made her smile... you mind doing that for me," asks Cynthia with smile as she sits on her hands.

"I can do that... yeah, I got you."

Cynthia grins, "Thank you. I really appreciate it. It's been a long day and– "

"Does she really like me?"

Cynthia watches Don fidget with the straw of his cup. "I mean..." Cynthia's mind overrules the control of her mouth. "You're cute and you're funny. You swim and play baseball, you get nice haircuts. You have pretty brown eyes and they lighten for the winter and fall. You got clear skin for the most part. You're tall... we like tall guys, not sure why. You listen when people talk and you don't tell their secrets."

"So what are you saying?"

She stares for a moment. Does she really know what she is saying? There is the possibility of her subconscious taking over her train of thought to the point of which it is out of her control. "I'm just saying that you shouldn't really have to ask whether or not she likes you," Cynthia explains. "She should like you. We all should like you." Don coyly stares down at his straw without too much left to say. He glances upward, meeting Cynthia's gaze. The two begin to clear their throats incongruously. "Anyway, you should take her out for me... or flirt, or something!"

As they begin to turn the conversation in direction of how much Don appreciates the bracelet that Cynthia brought him back from San Fransisco, a peer of Don's approaches them. His blue and yellow Bobby's Burgers uniform. A stature of roughly five feet and ten inches, along with a cute and crooked smile, is what he carries. Cynthia, slightly caught off guard by the attraction, immediately finds herself looking in direction of the specimen. With a quick, silent prayer that she looks presentable, Cynthia waits for Don to introduce her to his friend. That is, if Don introduces the two. He sees right through Cynthia's pink poker face of flirtations and he is not having it.

The future co-worker of Cynthia and Don stands with his hands in his pockets. "What's goin' on, D." He glances over at Cynthia with a slight smirk. "Hello." Don can't help but wonder if Andrew, this boy, would keep the same energy if he knew she was still fourteen while he is seventeen. Deep down inside, Don is ashamed to say that he is positive of it. He knows how the boys of Hidden Valley get down, he knows about all of the things that go on around town and its best to keep Cynthia's name from ever being brought up in the gym locker room.

"What's goin' on, Andrew," Don says with a slight nod.

Andrew glances down at Cynthia with a certain kind of stare in his eye. "You're Javon lil' sister, right?" Cynthia nods her head, a small smile placed on her face. Don looks at Cynthia, he looks back at Andrew. He counts the seconds of their stare down. Six, it's lasted six seconds long before somebody's eyes shifted. They're on the boarder of playing a dangerous game that Andrew should know not to attempt– not with Cynthia Evans, at least. "Yeah, Cynthia. I be seeing you on the cheer squad. In ya' skirts and all a' dat' dere'."