The night before the big date, Tom and I conversed over a bag of Tostitos and a bowl of salsa about Jodi and getting her to trust him. We weren’t the least bit concerned about the exams that Friday would hold, about how he was supposed to fit in the date with football practice for the first game of the season on Saturday, or about how the outcome of this whole, well, revenge-reaping plan would affect us. No, we just continued on with our conversation, blindly ignorant from the total scheme of things.

“So, when you go to pick Jodi up remember not to say ANYTHING regarding me, or even yourself. Talk about her. You remember how vain and ditzy she is, right? How she spent 5 whole hours just getting ready to study for an exam with you? And then her excuse for being so late was because the mall didn’t have a single shirt that matched her hair or something. So, even if it’s hard man, just focus on her. She likes that.”

Tom grabbed the last of the chips and shoved them in his mouth, clearly not wanting to respond.