It was clear to Cynth that the cute girl and handsome boy didn’t want to kiss. Not with her sitting three benches away. Not with their pushy friend egging them on, cameraphone framed and ready. The typical scene was written and directed by genetics. The girl was indeed cute, petite, armed with perfected feminine mannerisms, all packaged in a Fall outfit that teased of Summer treats; in a word, she was desirable. The boy was indeed handsome, a model without a magazine cover, the world ready for the taking, but waiting for testosterone to fill his head with the notion; in a word, he was desirable. Their pushy friend? In several words: fat, ugly, awkward, desperate, undesirable. She was Cynth. Which was why the urge to walk over to them, and tell the pushy friend to leave the possible couple alone propelled her to stand up. But a thought weighed…