Last season on Awkward...
In the course of a relationship,
if things didn't evolve, they threatened to go extinct.
I'm worried this Collin thing
might be more than just a fantasy.
Everyone's talking about how your parents are broke.
Aah!
You have to have a guardian over 18.
- Do you want her? - Yes!
Sold! Sadie's your new baby.
I loved being president, and you ruined that for me.
End it with Collin or tell Matty.
Surprise!
- You breaking up with me? - I'm so, so sorry, Matty.
- I'm so sorry. - We weren't taking sides,
but we are now. And we are not on yours.
I'm sorry, J. You're suspended.
I ruined friendships because of you.
- It is all on you, Jenna. - I had hit rock bottom.
- I wanted my life back. - Matty, this my friend Bailey.
I just wanted to make sure
that you were cool with me asking Bailey.
How 'bout you guys have this dance?
Didn't know we were still open.
And I didn't know we were closed.
I wanna be that girl who doesn't need a boy to be happy,
because I'll know how to dance all on my own.
Deciding who I wanted to be was so liberating,
so empowering.
Men, sensing my inner strength,
flocked to me. Moths to my flame.
When I decided I didn't need men,
they all decided they needed me.
They craved every thought in my head
and every inch of my body.
He worked his way down my torso,
and when he got to my center of need,
it felt so good. Oh, so good.
It's senior year! Get it!
- Oh, she got it. - Oh.
Ohh! Oh, over-squirted. Sticky fingers.
- Did you wash your hands? - Lacey!
- Mom! - Get over it, you two.
Everyone masturbates.
It's not like I haven't caught you
rubbing one out at your laptop, mister.
Uh... so, Jenna,
senior year, huh? Seniors rule the roost.
You're gonna have so much fun this year.
It was such a blast.
Well, until my morning sickness.
Honey, a hoodie?
- Aren't senior pictures today? - This is how I always look.
It's not really a look. How about earrings?
A little makeup, a colorful top...
you'll stand out a little more.
- I don't want to stand out. - But it's senior year.
Are you depressed about being single?
No. I like being single.
- I'm getting to know myself again. - Yeah. We saw, honey.
Hey, better beat around your own bush
than get into boy trouble, hmm?
Okay, I'm off to Home Depot,
gonna get a lock for that door.
Let me take you shopping for some cute clothes.
Our last back-to-school shopping ever.
Some cute jammies for senior sleepovers,
something peppy for homecoming,
prom...
Mom. It's the first day of school. Pace yourself.
Come on.
- Just a quick trip to the mall after school. - Okay, fine.
Only if you let go
of your complete makeover agenda.
Done.
I'd come a long way from sophomore year.
From being random suicide girl
who hooked up with Matty Mckibben,
but ended up dating Jake Rosati,
to random suicide girl
who stupidly cheated on Matty mckibben
with an epic douchebag, to, well...
Just a random girl again.
It was a refreshing start to a new stigma-free year.
Hey, Hamiltoe!
Heard you were caught pearl fishing
in your red lobster this morning.
Did I really need to tell my mother
not to tell her friends about my tender buttoning?
How embarrassing.
Must make you want to kill yourself.
Better luck this time.
- Nice wheels. - Your tweeting must really be paying off.
Better than your twatting.
FYI, you're looking a little brassy.
Probably best not to buy your blonde
at the 99 cent store.
Although if you embrace it and get matching tramp stamps
and implants, you'll be all set
for your lucrative post-high school career
hanging from poles at the spearmint rhino.
You're welcome.
Wow. The biatch really is back.
- She's so snatchy. - Love her.
Already I was feeling
the core emotional drama of senior year...
the sadness of doing something for the last time ever
mixed with the thrill of knowing
you'll never have to do any of this [Bleep] again.
Being the be-woc... big woman on campus...
has me in manic-panic multitask mode.
As class president, I am responsible
for the senior sleepover, which is just two nights away.
It is a hugely B.B.F.D.!
Then there's pep rally, spirit week,
plus I have to crank up my GPAS, retake my S.A.T.S.,
my S.A.T.S. is, three more aps...
even for a quant, that is a lot to digest.
My info-overload is inching toward info-besity.
Well, good morning to you too.
Theo, Cole. Are you getting this?
This magic moment will never, ever happen again.
"Magic"? What magic?
This crowd's a cheesy slice of basic
dripping onto the floor of some pizza parlor in Tustin.
It's like mall of America on the beach.
Who wants to remember any of this sick?
It's like someone threw up
the cast of Glee on our bleachers.
- It's sick! - Okay, enough!
I didn't recruit you guys to film the Blair Bitch Project.
Now get to work, or I will strap you down
and make you watch it gets better videos
until you bleed empathy.
- Why do you put up with those guys? - Because they're good.
Their last short film, Being Gay is Gay
actually made it into festivals.
Dealing with talent is a nightmare.
Ugh. Still not used to this Jake-over.
- So not loving it. - Really? I kind of do.
It's complicated. Kind of hot.
Ugh.
Jake! Would you please be so kind
as to put the guitar away for the class photo,
which it is my presidential duty
to remind you, is not an album cover.
Oh, looks like someone put on her bossy pants this morning.
Okay, everybody needs to sit!
Come on! Come on!
Are you walking through molasses, people?
Move your feet! You're down there.
I hadn't seen Matty all summer.
So seeing him today, I felt...
Like what I felt didn't matter anymore.
I had my chance with Matty, and I had blown it.
It was time to be an adult and deal with the present.
Matty had moved on. He was spoken for.
End of story.
- Hi. - Hey. How was your summer?
Um...
Soccer camp was very intense.
Yeah. But good.
I kind of missed regular camp though.
- You know, seeing you there... - Okay!
Enough chitchat.
Time to get this moment frozen forever.
Okay.
I can't believe Ming's gone.
- It was so sudden. - I know. It sucks.
Will we ever recover from the end of the ming dynasty?
So many epic changes over one short summer...
That it was reassuring to see some things
- hadn't changed at all. - You've changed people.
The old Lissa would never, ever miss senior picture.
I can't help it. We're trying to get home.
Africa is, like, really far away.
- What's that noise? - There are two kinds of guerrillas here...
the ones that like bananas
and the ones that carry machetes.
But it's all been so worth it,
bringing the lord to...
Oh, no, they're coming!
- Who? - The guerrillas!
Just throw them a banana.
You better be back in time for cheer!
I need your vote for captain!
And fix your hair if you want to be in the picture.
- Who are you? - Oh, hey. How's it going? I'm Eva.
- Who are you? - I'm, uh... just... Valerie Marks.
Girl friday/your new bff.
- Do I know you from somewhere? - I don't know, do you?
I'm the new girl and I'm starting my senior year,
and I will take as many friends as I can get.
Maybe we'll have class together.
Oh.
Sweet thing, no, no, I'm on the faculty.
Oh, okay.
- You just seem so young. - No. I know, I know.
It's why I relate so well with all the kids.
- Ooh, come sit with me. - Okay.
Omfg, can we all please focus?
This forever is going to be a never
if we don't get this together!
Class rankings? How did this get out?
This wiki-leaking is going to
cause serious wiki-tweaking.
I'm 17! Oh, thank God.
Tufts and Brandeis are totally in my ballpark!
Or maybe I'll reach for U. Penn.
Or Princeton or... wait.
- Jenna, where are you? - Sadie's number three. Yuck.
- Jake's 19. - I wish our closeness in rank
carried over into our relationship.
Oh, look. There's Fred. Not bad.
And Matty... whoa!
He is way higher than I thought.
Check it out, Jenna.
Okay, but where am I? Why am I not on here?
Maybe you're on the next page.
Or the next one.
- Oh, my God. - It's not that bad.
T, I'm 137!
Now smile.
Not a pretty picture.
I'm sorry.
I thought you were pulling my leg.
I guess it's involuntary muscle twitching.
- Say it again. - College?
Huh... Oh, Jenna.
Do you really think that you have
a chance at getting into college
with your low class rank?
With your 139?
- 137. - Oh, excuse me.
- Let's get M.I.T. on the phone. - Aren't you supposed to be helping?
Whoa, I am, J. It's called tough love,
and I'm one tough lover.
Okay, let's start with your complete lack
of participation in just about everything,
and your embarrassing S.A.T. score?
Though, in your defense, you were stoned.
It was just one bad semester.
Okay, I don't know who our wikileaker is.
I will hunt him down
and smoke him out of his foxhole,
but I actually think he... or she, or zhe...
I'm trying out some gender neutral pronouns this year.
Anyway, I think they may have done you a favor
by giving you a reality check.
I mean, even ming got her act together,
going off to Arizona to boarding school,
so she can get into a decent college.
It's in Vermont.
I heard Iowa.
Maybe they relocated her.
- Who? - The Asian mafia.
All we got was a letter from her parents and this.
Jenna.
Let's talk about your brand.
- My brand? - It's your only shot
at piquing a college's interest.
I know what my brand is...
empathetic hipster with deep thoughts
and distractingly sexy legs who spoons out so much sugar
no one notices me mainlining the medicine.
But what's "Jenna Hamilton"?
Hmm? What makes her so special?
- I have no idea. - Oh, well.
You can always repeat your junior year.
- What? - And apply yourself this time.
And refrain from having another psychotic breakdown
and knifing people who care for you in the heart...
that would be me, in case you need a clue.
How many times do I have to apologize?
Will you ever forgive me?
Of course, Jenna. I'm a masochist.
Anyway, another year would improve your academic standing,
and we would have fun together.
I think I'll just go forward with my senior year.
Then have I got a to-do list for you...
retake your SATS,
finish your two incompletes,
go out for a sport, join some clubs,
build your résumé, define your brand,
and drop to the floor and give me ten.
You want me to do push-ups for college?
No, strictly for my entertainment.
You got me fired. You think I don't hold grudges?
I mean, I get that I messed up last year...
but all this stuff I have to do to pad my résumé?
- Where do I start? - You should join cheer squad.
- Are you joking? - We need an equipment manager.
Wrangle a few pom-poms,
you got your first extracurric on your app.
- Thanks, but no thanks. - You're 137.
And I need an ally on the team to buffer me from Sadie.
And by the way, wtf was she talking about?
Your parents caught you tiptoeing through the tulips?
Why is everyone making such a big deal
out of something that everyone does?
- Not everyone. - Oh, please.
Jake satisfies all my sexual needs.
Oh, how nice for you.
Though I am curious.
When you... do... you know?
- Crack the code, T. - Fine.
Do you have orgasms?
Why else would I do it?
So, like, normal big Os or bigger big Os?
I'm just curious how they compare to mine,
and what I've read on Wikipedia
and various and sundry sex blogs.
Tamara, have you ever had an orgasm?
- With Jake or in general? - Either.
All the time. I'm pretty sure.
You'd know if you'd had one.
It's all about the clit.
Would you please stop?
I'm trying to concentrate.
What about a study break?
I've got a million things to do.
Oh, that's funny, 'cause I've only got one thing on my mind.
All done.
- That was great. - Yeah, it was.
I need to be valedictorian.
Why not be happy with number three?
Because that's complacency,
and complacency leads to stupidity and obesity.
And you're neither,
so maybe you could be a little complacent.
Would you be more relaxed?
I hate being relaxed!
God, you're such an idiot, it's irritating.
You guys about to screw?
Can you get out of my room? We're doing homework.
I'm glad you're getting it regularly.
You're a little less of a beast.
Did she tell you about Jenna
rubbing one out this morning?
Little bitch had a little itch.
If you give us some privacy,
I'll let you use the car later.
We have ten places to go before they close.
Mom, you said this wouldn't take long.
I've got a million things to do,
including college apps, a biology quiz
at the end of the week... I am not good at biology.
You're putting too much pressure on yourself.
You have to prioritize shopping.
Oh, sweetie, there's something here
I think you could use.
What could I possibly use? Oh, God!
Mom! No!
I don't need you micromanaging me.
This is my senior year. You already had yours.
So please just let me have mine.
Okay, well, I'm just trying to help.
I don't need your help.
I don't need your tips on how to do my hair,
what shoes to buy, how to dress,
and most certainly not how to masturbate.
Jenna.
Matty.
Let's pretend that you didn't hear me just yell the word "masturbate,"
and that you're not wearing floral board shorts
inside an indoor mall.
Deal. You do realize I'm working?
Oh. Right.
- When did you start? - Last week.
It is the dumbest job ever, but they recruited me.
Plus my parents have been real a-holes since the divorce.
They keep hanging all this money stuff over me,
so I figured I'd make my own money.
Granted, I hadn't seen him all summer,
but this seemed so un-Matty,
I didn't really know what to say.
- How's Bailey? - She's fine.
I guess. I haven't seen her in a few months.
I'm pretty sure she moved.
You and she...
That fizzled pretty fast after prom.
Oh, I thought you and her are...
I just wasn't really feeling it.
Is there, like, any stuff on sale right now?
I have no clue.
They don't want me answering questions about the merchandise.
So what is it you actually do here?
Ah, code red. Yeah, code red.
Okay, what was up with Matty being single all summer?
And why was it bugging me so much?
Did Jake tell you Matty was single?
- No. - It's weird.
I still think there's something between us.
Yeah, after last year's lamentable legacy
of deceit, double dealing, and damage,
you think he wants to come back for another serving of that?
You need to get your house in order
before you think about getting a man in your life.
Tell me about it.
May I?
- Please. - Oh.
I am so done with men.
At least high school boys.
I don't [Bleep] where I eat.
A high school guy has a better chance
of winning the lottery than he does finding your g-spot.
I can't believe you heard that.
Sorry, I wasn't trying to eavesdrop.
It's just kind of lonely being the new girl,
and you guys seem like the only interesting senior girls.
I mean, that big cheerleader over there
scares the crap out of me.
I don't like to judge,
and as class president
it is my obligation to protect all of my constituents,
but she's a "see you next Tuesday" seven days a week.
Well, I've been a victim of bullying,
and I can't really handle any more emotional scarring.
- You were bullied? - Well, people get jealous.
I'm sure you guys know what it's like.
Where are you from?
I just moved here from the city,
from New York to live with my dad.
So what happened with your man?
Oh, please. How many hours do you have?
It's complicated, but I'm trying to stay away
from guy drama and focus on school.
Speaking of which, have you seen the college apps?
I don't know where to start. I do.
Number one, take the cheer equipment manager position.
And number two, learn how to schedule.
You need a separate calendar for each class and activity.
And make sure you schedule your free time, too.
So you have blocks of time for homework...
30 minutes is optimal.
For exercise I like 20 minutes,
and for sex with your boyfriend, ten minutes tops...
She's intense.
There's no way I can get anything done
with every moment of my life scheduled.
- It's too overwhelming. - I'll help you.
No, thanks. I'd rather do it on my own.
- Suit yourself. - I just wanted to remind you
I expect your vote for cheer captain.
- Who else is running? - It doesn't matter.
If you want to remain school president,
vote for me or I'll start impeachment proceedings.
- Excuse me. On what grounds? - I haven't decided yet.
Luckily, that won't be necessary
since you've decided to vote for me.
Hi, black-bullying.
That's your own little lesson on how politics
work in the real world.
You're welcome.
There is no way I'm doing that cheer squad.
There are plenty of other clubs I can join.
Desperate times called for very desperate measures.
If the sex fiend's gonna be handling the pom-poms,
I think regular dips in bleach and Valtrex
would be prudent.
Would ruin the poms.
- I meant for Jenna. - All right, everyone.
It's time to elect cheer captain.
Now these ballots are anonymous, so remember,
vote your conscience,
vote your heart, vote your soul.
Everyone just vote for me,
and let's get this over with, okay?
I made it!
Yay!
- Where were you? - Africa.
It was so neat.
We spread the word all over the dark continent.
There's something really nasty stuck in your hair.
My little brother spit up on the plane.
We adopted a little brother.
He was a heathen, and we totally saved him.
Yay!
Racing across the globe to make cheer practice...
wow, that sets the school spirit bar sky-high.
- Up where Jesus is. - Mm-hmm.
Good work, Lissa.
Thanks. I'm humbled.
All right, everyone, write down
your pick for cheer captain.
Another for Lissa.
Good choice, Trina.
Wow, this is a tight race.
In fact, it's dead even.
Lissa doesn't even want to be cheer captain.
Well, if I'm called to serve,
I guess I'd have no choice.
Jenna, the equipment girl,
may I have your ballot, please?
- I get a vote? - No, you don't.
You're just the team's bitch-slave.
Actually, you do.
This is a democracy, and bitch-slaves get to vote.
And the winner is...
Drum roll, please.
Jenna, there's a drum in there.
The winner is...
Lissa!
Lissa is your new cheer captain.
- Yay! - Lissa!
You know what this is?
Treachery!
I blame you. And you.
And most especially you, you slunt!
This is the stupidest,
saddest, lamest cheer squad ever!
Yep, cheer was depressing,
and my school spirit was in a free fall.
I had a ton of work to do, and the last thing
I wanted to deal with was senior sleepover.
Yay, senior sleepover!
You are gonna have so much fun.
Why aren't you in your jammies? Where's your bag?
I'm really not feeling up to it.
I was okay with being single.
Just not at senior sleepover.
And not with Matty there.
Maybe because part of me
always thought we'd be going together.
Jenna, this is your one and only senior sleepover ever.
You don't want to miss it.
Mine was so much fun.
In fact, it might have been the night you were conceived.
I thought it was at the bonfire.
Romantic version, it could've been anywhere, really.
The bonfire, the senior sleepover,
the dressing room at Contempo Casuals.
Your father couldn't keep his hands off of me.
I was hot stuff. I'd kill to go back.
Well, why don't you just go in my place?
You wouldn't.
Oh, just watch me.
Movies, check. Refreshments, check.
Sprinklers off, check. What am I forgetting?
- To relax. - I can't be lax about anything!
I said, "relax."
What language are you speaking?
Welcome to senior sleepover.
We're here to have fun, but to do so
while following the rules.
Here are the rules...
no alcohol.
No sex.
One person per sleeping bag.
No double bagging.
No tea bagging, no BJs,
no JBs, no JKs,
no KKs, no LOLs.
No nudity.
No motorboating, no rowboating...
No water sports at all, whatsoever.
No dunking the biscuit,
flogging the bishop, or winding the wimple,
no reach-arounds, no lickety-splits,
no salad-tossing,
no snacking between meals.
And no warm watermelons.
Got it? Now get it!
I don't get it!
I've never asked anything of you, Lissa.
So just resign, I'll be cheer captain,
and life will go on. I don't know, Sadie,
it seems wrong.
What's wrong is you taking something
that isn't yours.
But people voted for me.
I was called.
Hi. Lissa.
It's me calling you
to tell you to give the [Bleep] up.
Oh, ga...
Kyle!
Hand check!
No video games,
no hunger games,
no monkey business,
no "pin the tail on the donkey,"
and no plushies whatsoever.
Can I camp out with you guys?
I already took my muscle relaxers,
so I'll be out solid for, like, 12 hours.
- Sure. - Hey.
I'm Eva. I'm the new girl.
I think we have the same math class together.
Oh. Yeah. Wow. Math.
I'm Jake. And I'm Matty.
That's gotta be rough, switching schools senior year.
Do you have any absinthe or melatonin?
I haven't slept on the ground since my parents made us
spend that one summer at an ashram in India.
Oh, yeah. Wow, India.
We smoked opium
and did yoga all day and got really deep into tantra.
I've heard of that.
I'm telling you,
tantra is all you need to know
for mind-blowing sex.
Tantra will release the fire-breathing dragon
in your vagina.
Okay!
Time for everyone's favorite
high school musical masterpieces,
from Grease to Hairspray!
Pink Flamingos? WTF is Pink Flamingos?
This was supposed to be Hairspray!
It's just a different John Waters movie.
It's probably the same thing.
What you are about to see
is a real thing.
Well, this is different.
At least it's not a high school musical.
Or Twilight.
Do you remember you made me take you
- to see that? - Okay.
Well, you made me sit through
all three Transformers movies.
"Oh, Bella!"
"Edward." "Bella."
Okay, I'm a hopeless romantic.
Well, don't be a hopeless one.
Oh!
Hey, watch the movie!
Hey! Hey! Hey!
What is this [Bleep] show
that is literally a [Bleep] show?
Oh, come on!
Yo! Yo! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!
I said movie magic, not movie tragic!
What happened to my sweet, romantic
teen high school musical comedies?
You need to take that sick musical comedy fetish
of yours out back and put a bullet in its head.
These people need some real John Waters in their lives.
You're going to give people nightmares!
Ooh.
Well, at least their nightmares
will be interesting instead of some
sick high school musical trash!
Are those cannabis lollipops?
No drugs or alcohol allowed!
Are you trying to spoil this for everyone?
- We have prescriptions. - We need it for the anxiety
you're giving us right now.
Put on something else.
Please.
Basket case!
I'm not going to be threatened by some adolescent punk
with a smoldering grudge,
unless you've grown something else you want to cut off.
What's in the basket?
Horror is not my genre.
Then let's get out of here.
Come on.
What's wrong?
Everything.
Everything is wrong.
Do you know how much pressure I'm under?
Photo fiasco, filthy flicks,
college trapplications, cheer jeer...
all this tension is building up and, no offense,
but the big "O" has been a big no-show
in the Jake and Tamara high school musical.
- Huh? - Jake, how many times,
if you had to guess, do you think we've had sex?
- A thousand? - Close.
101. And out of those 101 times,
how many times have you had an orgasm?
101. Duh.
It's probably more like 125.
Sometimes I have a two-fer.
Why? How many have you had?
- Maybe half. - So like 60?
Actually, half of 101 is actually 50.5,
how are we so close in class rank?
Anyway, no.
I haven't had 50.5 orgasms.
More like 50 half-gasms.
"Half-gasms"? Jesus, Tamara.
Just tell me what the problem is.
I don't know. I'm not a sex-pert.
Well, let's figure it out.
Awful lot of stuff going on up there.
A bucket-load of stars.
And we're just on this tiny, spinning ball of Clay.
Kind of makes me feel like all this
college stuff I've been stressing about
isn't that earth-shattering.
The last time I checked, the earth was still here.
Yep.
Still one big old chunk.
You like that?
No. It's porny.
How about that? Huh?
Oh, come on, baby, it's hot, right?
Tamara, you gotta tell me...
it's okay, just not the talking.
And will you ease up down there?
You're not touching anything that has sensation.
What was that?
It's no use! You're never gonna get me off!
Good morning, Palos Hills Seniors!
This is your life.
Time to put the shake up in your wake up
and make... it... happen!
Well, this is an embarrassment of glitches.
My secret shame-out is now a public flame-out.
Relax, Tamara. No one knows it was you.
"Oh, Jake."
I'll cut you, dude!
You need to let go of shame
and just get to know your own body.
Oh, no, I am not into tickling my fancy.
Well, if you don't know your own body,
then how do you expect some guy to?
Oh, you can catch.
Now show me if you can also fetch.
You should feel right at home in there.
My little brother's here.
Come and meet him. Come on.
Hi, mommy.
- Hi, baby. - Where's your little brother?
Oh, he's in the backseat. He's finishing his bottle.
This water is so luxurious.
Lightly carbonated,
natural blackberry essence, electrolytes...
God truly has blessed America.
His name is Mugabo. But we call him Tyler.
You must be Sadie.
Lissa speaks so highly of you.
Okay, you're like 40.
Only 18.
We think of him as just two months
because that's when he met us,
was saved and born again... praise be.
What religion exactly were you saved from?
Worshipping fertility idols?
Fire walking?
Actually my family's Catholic, but I did attend
the Anglican church when I went to school in England.
And we are so happy to have Tyler in our fold now.
I am very much looking forward
to a year in American high school.
It's a dream come true.
While some dreams were coming true,
my life was a nightmare.
Even Lissa had it together...
a way higher class rank than me, cheer captain,
and a very hot charitable endeavor.
I had to get with the program.
The first items on my to-do list were pretty basic...
one, make to-do list.
Two, suck it up.
Three, focus. Number three was hard.
'Cause I kept thinking about how nice
it was sleeping on the grass next to Matty.
Numbers four, five, and six, choose colleges to apply to,
fill out common application, write essay.
It was a lot easier to think about
how Matty smelled like soap and sweat and...
what was number three again?
Focus. Focus. Focus. Focus.
But it was too overwhelming. It was too much.
It was... it was...
- Oh, God, again! - Oh, God, sweetheart!
I thought you were getting a lock!
I'm preparing for college!
Ah, so proud of you, sweetie.
And it looks like you got your work cut out for you.
Hmm? Yeah.
Well, so far, I've only filled out my address.
Next question is "what are you good at?"
How am I supposed to know that?
- You're good at lots of things. - Like what?
Like tons of stuff. Like...
Uh...
You're good at...
Being interesting.
And you're a good writer.
'Cause you're funny and smart.
"Name something you hate and why?
Answering stupid questions for colleges
I probably won't get into
because I was stoned taking the S.A.T.S"?
You can't use that, Jenna.
Were you really stoned
the day that you took the SATS?
Sadly, no.
Just come up with fun and interesting answers
- for these essays. - Yeah.
A little originality in your answers
will help you stand out from a bunch
of boring overachievers.
Your words are your opportunity
to show these colleges who you are...
and who they'd be missing out on
if they chose a smarter kid.
Hmm.
They say that the first step in fixing a problem
is to admit you're powerless over it.
Or maybe that's just with drugs and alcohol,
I don't know... but it seemed right just the same.
I just had to do it.
And suddenly it just came spewing out,
line after line, paragraph after paragraph.
I'd have to change the names, but I could do this.
I was succeeding.
Because, not to toot my own horn,
but I am sort of interesting.
And best of all, I was focused.
Hey.
Hope this isn't weird.
Been a while since I've been at this door.
Yeah.
Should... should I go back out and come to the front?
That'd be kind of weird since you're already here.
Yeah.
Come in.
You can sit down or whatever.
- On the bed? - Yeah.
Or the chair or something.
He chose the bed.
And I had a feeling my new-found focus
was about to go fuzzy.
But maybe that wasn't entirely a bad thing.
All writers need a muse.
Maybe a little Matty distraction action
would further fuel my new literary fire.
Perhaps it was time for a little study break.
So...
Could you help me with my essays?
Huh?
These stupid college essays are so lame.
"What am I good at?"
How am I supposed to know?
That's why you're here?
You want me to help you with your essays?
- You're a pretty decent writer. - "Pretty decent"?
I suddenly had a zero tolerance policy for distraction action.
You know, Matty, I've got my own college essay questions
to answer, and my own future to worry about,
because, in case you hadn't heard, I'm 137.
Okay.
Sorry I asked.
TC being... taking care of business...
meant waking up in my clothes with a stiff neck
and feeling a little dejected
that Matty had come to me for help
with his essay and not for... well, me.
But at least I had gotten something accomplished.
Baby steps.
Oh, crap.
Oh.
Oh, [Bleep] me.
I had a really productive night.
Jenna, I'm a little busy.
Why do you sound so uptight?
Because I have been up all night dealing
with student handbook revisions because, apparently,
I'm the only elected official in this school
who knows how to multitask,
not to mention the only cheerleader
who actually knows how to write a cheer,
and the only AFS member who knows
that a Brazilian exchange student
can't read a Spanish textbook.
Oh, and I'm the only girlfriend
who told a football field full of seniors
that her boyfriend, who is barely speaking to her,
can't get her off!
That is why I'm so uptight!
You seriously need to chillax.
I don't know how!
Oh. Hello.
I had me some cheery os for this morning.
Hey.
You know, if you weren't being satisfied,
you could've just told me.
- I did. - I meant
not over a loudspeaker.
Nobody knows it was us.
I so didn't need to hear
that your sex life is sex death.
Not surprised.
But still, keep that nastiness
to yourself, please.
Clearly Tamara's GPS-ing of her G-spot
wasn't enough to relieve the ongoing tension.
Which left me wondering if I'd been too harsh
with Matty last night.
Hey, I'm sorry about the way I handled things last night.
I've just got a lot on my plate...
Yes, we all do. Jenna, it's cool.
I gotta get to class.
So was he blowing me off because he thought
I'd blown him off?
I was confused.
But I didn't have time to be,
because I was working my way down the list,
and I had to hurry if I was gonna fix my life.
It's almost 7:00. Aren't you gonna eat?
I can't, I have to finish this essay
and make sure it captures the essence of my brand.
This is getting ridiculous. Your "brand"?
Jenna, you can't fix everything overnight.
- You need to eat. - But I have to work.
We'll have a working dinner.
We're in, like, the middle of nowhere.
Got a job-site right around the corner,
best food trucks in the city, right here.
You've got kabobs, you've got Chinese.
Ooh, brats and beer.
Hi, Jake.
- Hey, should I come over? - Now?
I have a lot of stuff to do. Like, piles of stuff.
I don't even have time to brush my teeth.
Hmm.
The Blutwurst looks good, but the Weisswurst
looks pretty killer, too.
Or would you rather just go with the classic brat?
I'm sorry, we don't serve people
with stupid hats or man-buns.
And wax is for candles, not moustaches.
You're welcome.
Sadie?
You breathe one word of this, hamiltoe, one word,
and I will [Bleep] you up.
As I watched Sadie hocking German wieners
in that ridiculous, mustard-stained uniform,
I realized something.
We all had very full plates.
Not just me.
Dad, give me a minute.
What are you doing here, Hamilperv?
And where didn't you see me?
What's going on? I thought you were rich again.
The Twitter thing?
Are you really so stupid
that you buy that anyone besides Kim Kardtrashian
can earn money from some stupid Twitter plugs?
- The whole school bought it. - Yeah.
Not a bright bunch.
It's none of your business,
but my parents are still poor,
and I'm stuck with that pickled troll, Ally,
and I hate asking her for money.
Well, what about the Mercedes?
Oh, please.
Come on. I need to tan.
- I'm not your chauffeur. - Actually, you are.
It's the reason I let you drive my sweet baby Benz.
Actually, that's not the reason.
You know where the tanning salon is.
Drive yourself.
I have better things to do.
Oh.
And by the way, I don't need your stupid car anymore.
Oh, shut up and blow.
That's right.
Do you need a ride?
If any of us were ever going
to deal with what was on our plates
and become the adults we wanted to be,
we were going to have to be smart about it.
There was still a bunch of things we needed to learn...
we needed to learn when to ask for help...
When to accept help...
and most of all, when to help someone else.
Hey.
Come on in.
I really appreciate this.
It's cool. I'm a "pretty decent" writer.
And I'll do my best to make you not sound like a teenage girl.
I'm sorry if I sounded bitchy earlier.
I've been kind of stressed.
It's kind of a stressful year.
This season on Awkward...
O to the M to the F to the G...
- What are we? - Friends.
- With benefits. - Jenna?
I don't watch tv in the summer.
Know why? Because I hate re-runs.
This is just like sophomore year.
He's getting what he wants and you're not.
The way you're acting is making me feel less like a buddy, and more like a [bleep].
I'm sorry you see it that way, Jenna.
I guess I've just been a little...
busy dealing with the fact that my entire life has been a lie.
Oh, hey Jenna.
I go over to Matty's last night,
Eva's answers the door.
Tells me to leave.
Do I hear a bitch pitch in your voice?
Dude, what is your deal?
Everyday you're like two seconds away from going BS mode.
- Nothing. - You're wild, man.
I can tell.
- Oh yeah? - For sure.
I want to break up.
You're breaking up with me? Is this about the music?
Can you hear what you're saying?
- What as your ex like? - T,
you have got to stop catfishing him.
Things are getting intense, I'm really into her.
You never ever met her. She's probably 45 year-old sex-offender named Ralph.
This is the perfect school for me.
That's the best part of college, you get exposed to all these cool people.
College guys weren't varsity high-school boys.
College guys were a whole different ballgame.
You can't coach, all you know is losing.
synced by yescool / corrected by ovelheiro www.addic7ed.com
You can't just transition from BF to BFF without some D in between.
- D? - Drama.
Ok.
I'm always here for you Jenna.