That information does me no good.
What would do me some good would be hearing about all of the other things.
Like, tell me about how she jerked her head up every time the door darkened.
Or tell me about how her heart skipped a beat every time she heard a new voice, one that might belong to me.
Or describe how she glared at her phone, and wished it would do something besides just sit there being lame.
That's the kind of information that would do me some good.
And if none of that stuff actually happened?
Well, then lie to me. For sometimes the truth isn't enough.