Lexia slumped in her seat, and I gave her a hug. She buried her face into the front of my shirt, not caring that she was smearing her mascara all over my clothes. I didn't really care, either-- it wasn't my shirt anyway.
"Am I that undesirable?" she sobbed. "Is it because I'm ugly?"
"Shh, you're not ugly," I said.
"Yes, I am. My nose is too big and I have too much acne and my eyebrows are hurt."
"No," I tried to tell her. "Listen, Lexia. You are beautiful and you don't need a guy to complete you. Ok?"