"How was your little date?"

"I got stood up. He said he had a friend emergency this time."

"And you believe him?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Skye, you are a grade one idiot."

"Hey!"

"No, shut up and listen to me. He has stood you up twice! Twice, Skye, Uno, Doce. And you forgave him the first and second time. He gave you the wrong number, purposely hurt you, but you don't care. You're pawning after a white boy named Nathan for Jesus's mercy."

". . ."

"Does he even know your favorite color? Your favorite show to watch during a storm? What type of fabric you like?"

"Well-no, but-"

"Does he know you love the color beige? And that you love to watch your vampire shows? And that you prefer silk over cotton?"

"I-"

"Does he know you absolutely hate wearing socks in the house? Does he know you love to write with your left hand-even though you can't-and it's kinda sad?"

". . ."

"He doesn't care, damnit. He doesn't care enough to know those little things about you!"

"Maybe he'll-"

"Change? No, he won't, Skye. You deserve someone who knows your favorite color, fabric type, show, someone who knows you hate wearing socks, and you try to write with your left hand. Someone who actually cares to know the little things!"