'It's 2 in the morning, who the hell's calling me?'

'Hey. It's Isayah.'

Be careful. My heart just shattered.

'Uh. Um. Isayah...? Why are you calling me this late?'

His voice sounded strange, but then again, it was the first time I'd heard him on the phone. 

(How did he get my phone number?)

'You wanna come over? I'm bored.'

I almost vomit. I almost turn inside out and vomit myself out of my own body.

'What?'

Laughing.

'Andrew! I'm just kidding, it's me!' 

More laughing, quieter this time. My heart is racing.

'Who?'

'Antoinette.'

I fall.

'You're a bitch, Ettie.'

'I'm sorry, Andrew, I just wanted to hear your reaction!' 

Her voice is sunny.

'I'm really sorry, I won't do that again.'

'What kind of friend-'

'It was just a stupid joke. Do you forgive me?'

I groan, loud, so that she hears the line crackle.

'Whatever.'

'Cool.'

'It's two in the morning. We have school tomorrow.'

'I just wanted to talk. Andrew, don't hang up on me.'

'Fine. What?'

'What I wanna talk about?'

'Yeah.'

'Um... You and Isayah?'

'Ettie-'

'Just some chit chat with your friend, you know. I'll give you some advice.'

I sigh. 

'You know, he ripped up my poem.'

'What? The one you gave him yesterday?'

'Yep.'

'How do you know?'

'Well, I found it ripped up. I only gave it to him, so you know.'

Silence. 

'Fuck him, then.'

'He's nice.'

She laughs and I don't like it.

'He's a fucking bullet speeding right into your face, Andie. What do you even like about him? He's an asshole.'

I shrug, even though she can't see me. When I found that ripped up poem, its pieces like white petals on the ground, a few of the birds still living in my chest died.

But I still like him.

(Should there be a question mark there?)

'He's not an asshole'.

She groans. We've had this conversation before. 

'Tell me one reason why you like him. One.'

'Um. Well. He's attractive. He's like... a bad boy.'

Ew.

'Yeah, yeah, a walking cliché that didn't get his momma's love. But besides that stuff - you know what I mean. Give me a reason why you like him. Seriously.'

I struggle. I don't know. I can't name even one, and it makes my chest go heavy and my heart darken and sink.

'So, I'm taking the silence for you having no reason. Listen to my example, then; I like my boyfriend because he's kind and affectionate to strangers; he's open minded which means that he-'

'Yeah, I get it.'

'You know what? I want you to write me a list of all the good things about him, and all the bad things about him. Write it, and give it to me tomorrow. I want to see these reasons. And I don't want any 'he's attractive' bullshit'.

'We'll see.'

'Uh-uh. You'll do it. You've got rose-coloured glasses on, and I want you to stop shoving your head up your own ass.'

'Lovely.'

'Thanks.'

Silence.

'By the way, is Isayah even... like, is he even into guys?'

'I'm... not sure. I don't think so.'

'Well then, your chances are very slim.'

'Thanks for the unending support.'

'I'm just being real'.

'I won't write that list down, you know.'

'Why?'

'Um... Because-'

Another moment of silence. I twirl the phone cord around my finger.

'I'll tell you why. Because you don't have an actual solid reason for liking that asshole. What good has he done? You only like the idea you've created of him.'

'That's not true.'

'Then write the list and give it to me tomorrow.'

'Ettie.'

'Andrew. I'm serious. That's your task for today.'

I sigh. 

'Whatever.'

'I want to see that list once you're done, yeah?'

'Bye, Ettie. See you in school.'

She groans.

'Bye.'