Before Caleb could answer her question about the temperature, she began taking off her sweater. His eyes watched her movements, finding himself ogling and looking away before her head popped out of the hoodie. [i]"Pull it together, man,"[/i] he thought to himself as he shook his head. 

"Oh, yeah," he scoffed. "Make the guy with the concussion serve you food." He grabbed the bottle of vodka and the bag of food, bringing it over to the coffee table and plopping it down on the table before he sat down next to her. The pill went into his mouth, followed by the vodka, and he sighed after both of them traveled down his throat. "You're not trying to kill me, are you? I've done enough drugs to have a decent tolerance by now."

Caleb worked at the brown bag in front of them and laid out each carton so that it was accessible to both of them. "So," he began as he made himself a plate, "The funeral tomorrow. I need you to play along as Jimmy's cousin. He and his mom hadn't talked in years, so you're gonna be his cousin from his mom's side. They might be a little rude to you, but I'll make it work. Say that you guys just reconnected or something." He scratched his head as his mind mulled over the possibilities of what could go wrong with the lie that he came up with, but he decided that it was futile. It would be the only thing that could work without raising too much suspicion about his date.

"And I'm sorry for putting my arm around you and shit at the restaurant. My quick thinking isn't what it usually is right now." He had realized that a girl like Lola, who had so much history with awful men, was probably much less trusting than the front she put on appeared to be. He wouldn't want to do anything that would turn her against him.