Paul took Hannah's advice, and his hair looks much better now. I wonder if the town barber noticed the dye job and tried to sell Paul a little Just For Men. Paul's currently at work at Vic's diner, but the real work he's doing is reconciling the new New Orleans story with the old Philly story he initially told Vic. They didn't take "gullible" out of the dictionary; they just put Vic's picture next to it. Paul makes like he's going to do some dishes in the back, but instead, he whips out his Palm Pilot the moment he's alone. He opens an IM session under Erin's ID and responds to ATHINKER2984, "Still there?" Amazingly, ATHINKER is. He hasn't had to pee this whole time? Must not be much of ADRINKER. The two IMers dance around the question of one another's identity for a few lines, and Paul guesses that he's talking to Tannen. Whom he knows from a Post-it on his wall. "Yes. Erin was a friend," Tannen responds. Well, now Paul can make those arrows on the Post-it a little thicker. Paul asks who Kensington is, and Tannen's only answer is to invite Paul to MIRL, tonight, in Chicago: "Red line subway. Monroe station. Last car. Green jacket. 1:37 AM train." Paul looks conflicted, but taps in the obligatory line, "How do I know I can trust you?" And the equally obligatory answer: "You don't." Of course, that could just be the PDA's smart text software talking.

At school, Henry stops by football practice. You'll be surprised to learn that Brady wears a helmet when he plays. A few people are in the stands watching the boys run around, including Hannah and Amber. Hey, I thought there wasn't much to do here but play football, and now we see all these people watching football. Brady's a big liar. Okay, Henry's actually watching his "Kylie" tattoo. But it doesn't seem to be doing much, at least to me. And then it transports Henry into the past, where he makes some triumphant score in a lacrosse game. Kylie's in the bleachers. Gosh, isn't Kylie great? What a lovely memory of Kylie. In any case, the bit of play we just saw has nothing to do with what little lacrosse I've seen, which seemed to involve people clubbing each other for no apparent reason and then running away. Back in the present, Henry pulls out his new cell phone and stares at it, like he's trying to figure out how to dial it.