Strangers expect them to burst into flames. Something about Jennyfer's cropped fuchsia hair and Justin's black vinyl armor clashes with the sun and the log-cabin quilt that protects their young bodies from the wet green grass underneath. But they remain oblivious to hard stares or uninformed assumptions. Justin hums the chorus of his newest song while Jennyfer weaves a dandelion crown for his head. She occasionally looks up at him from under mascara-caked eyelashes to find him always smiling back at her.