Previously on Awkward...
The guys keep a "hot or not" list.
- You coded me? - I made a dude database.
I'm gonna hate-rate the out of these jock-offs.
I guess you're not 100% douchebag after all.
First time?
Now that I had finally let Owen down easy
and made up with Matty after his heroic pro-girl stand
at the bonfire, my guy slate was clear.
So this morning, Tamara and I could log
some well-deserved quality time over hot chocolates.
Oh, hi, have you become Amish?
I've been calling you all weekend with me-related Intel
and I thought maybe you had abandoned electricity.
Hot chocolate. Be nice. My phone was off.
It won't stop...
Tags for Matty...
#MagicMatty, #BlackIrishLicorice.
It's a severe Y chromosome hashtag-a-palooza.
The dude database has now gone full-on viral.
How is every other girl at PHHs posting to it like crazy?
Okay. I may have showed a few girls
while hate-rating at the bonfire.
Do you like this new peach lip gloss?
- It might be a little too shiny. - T.
#2InchRich? Yikes.
This is gonna really piss some people off.
We should just delete it.
It'll play itself out.
Now, prepare to be shocked
as I reveal my hookup with...
Oh. Em. Gee.
A puppy dog? A puppy dog, really?
These boys wouldn't last one bad dubstep remix
of gay bar judgment.
Ugh, dubstep. Just lost my semi.
Unwrap that package, magic Matty!
Okay, now I really get how you felt about the phonebook.
Did you do this?
#FabAbs?
I'd like to think I'm more creative than that.
Isn't it brillz! Just total drama.
We got this dirty deeds database
and forwarded invites to everyone.
Let the hot guys know they're hot
and the not guys know to give up.
So no one has any idea where this database come from?
Some idiot savant freshman?
Idiot? Those bitches.
That database is well-built.
The integration of the Facebook photos alone...
Stop defending it!
Whoa!
Okay, this has gone off the rails.
What if it comes back around to me?
Focus on my shiny peach lips. No one knows it was us.
Jenna Hamilton to Ms. Marks' office now.
Immediately now.
Well, no one knows it was me.
Synced and corrected by Chitorafa www.addic7ed.com
What do you know about this dude database
for ranking senior boys?
J., who's involved?
Any faculty?
The headphones are for your privacy.
You know, sometimes I'm like, "whoa, #UpInMyGrill,"
but then I get all #MascotHeadHorny and...
Val, the headphones don't really work.
- I need guidance! - Oh, right.
#2InchRich.
2 1/2!
I'm gonna go.
- Thank you! - Oh.
Sorry.
This hashtag stuff really sucks.
- Ow! - Oh, yeah.
Your rep as a sex machine is so hard.
- Ow! - Nice guys finish last.
That's only because you let the girls finish first,
#SoPoliteInBed.
Since when is being a generous lover a bad thing?
Hey, not-so-naughty-Rosati!
Oh!
No, he's... he's just upset about
his adorable puppy dog status with the girls.
Ah, well, the ladies of PHHs have a lot to say,
don't they, #ManWhoreMcKibben?
Okay, it's not my fault that...
that people want to hang out with me.
- I am adorable. - True, and modest.
I'm sure your idea of hanging out with all these girls
is good, clean fun.
Holding hands,
milkshakes with two straws, that kind of thing?
Come on, you make it sound like I'm some sort of player.
Okay. Well, how many actual dates
have you taken any of these girls on?
I date!
In... in fact,
I was just about to tell you
about this date I had planned for us.
And what could be cleaner fun than...
mini golf?
Okay, and how long into the date
before you try to sink a hole in one?
If this date was about making a move,
would I have invited other people?
It's a double date.
You're just making this up right now, aren't you?
- No way! - No way, McKibben.
Sadie, do this for me. I really like this girl.
If you have to pretend to be all harmless to win her over,
then clearly, you've picked the wrong girl.
- Again! - I'll pay your way.
You have to pay for Sergio, too.
Done! Thank you.
Since you're homosexual sinners
and seem cool with the whole "going to hell" thing,
can I ask you a question?
Please do.
I've always dreamed of going to heaven one day
and spending eternity with my family.
But now my dad can't go and I don't know what to say to him.
Sweet tits, you got some bad info.
Your dad's not going to hell.
He's going to gay heaven.
Gay heaven is a nonstop artisan cocktail mixer
courtesy of The Scissor Sisters and Heatherette.
It makes straight heaven look like a busted clearance sale
at T.J. Maxx.
That's where you'll be, Lissa. Straight heaven.
Get ready for boxed white zin and an endless loop
of Everybody Loves Raymond reruns.
What?
There are too many heavens to keep straight!
It's like Kierkegaard humped a loaf of wonder bread
and made a baby.
Even though Val was mercifully clueless about the database,
I didn't know if Tamara and I would stay anonymous.
And frankly, dudes were the last thing on my mind.
- Hey, Jenna! - Hey, Owen!
You know, after how things went down,
it's... it's cool you still put me on the dude database.
You know, #SecretHottieWithABody.
- Did Owen just kiss your cheek? - What? No.
I mean, yes.
Are you guys friends now? Why the random fandom?
Okay. Owen was the guy I hooked up with at new year's
- and, like, once afterwards. - Wait. What?
Look, I feel super weird about not telling you.
I didn't even know he was a sophomore.
And then I kind of took his "v" card.
And now he thinks I hashtagged him, but I didn't.
So it must be someone playing a joke...
Spoiler alert, Jenna.
I wrote that Owen hashtag...
After we hooked up!
Okay, you cannot walk away.
This is not bad enough for a walkaway moment.
OMG, that's so funny because...
The guy who sits there has mono.
I didn't even know you liked Owen!
Well, I tried to tell you this morning.
You tried to tell me...
Oh, yeah. Never.
It was supposed to be a onetime thing!
He's just not like the guys I normally date so...
So he's not a jock-du-jour or a drug pusher
or some hot college guy you abandoned on a mountain?
Well, that was face-stabbingly thorough.
Look it, T., Owen is great, just not for me.
- I am happy for you. - Oh!
So he's not good enough for you,
but he is good enough for me?
Mesdemoiselles... Nous sommes prêts à commencer.
- What did she say? - She said, "get out."
Tamara and I were clearly speaking a different language.
And I needed to find one particular translator.
- Oh. - Pretty low, Owen.
Hooking up with Tamara,
and then pretending to be all sweet with me?
Wait, what? I mean, I think Tamara's rad.
Yeah, I think she's rad, too.
Which is why I'm not gonna let you use her to get back at me.
Wait, but you told me to go after someone amazing.
Of course I'm gonna go after Tamara.
Because you like her, or because you want to hurt me?
Tamara is my best friend, and now she's hurt.
So if that matters to you, then you'll stay away from her.
Any civil disobedience
having to do with the hashtagging of boys
will be handled former Soviet block style.
A lot of people were still salty because of the database.
Tamara and I weren't exactly sweet.
Maybe she was right to be mad at me.
But she wasn't right about it all blowing over.
Not even close.
You asked for it, comrades.
The hose it is.
So there's Christian heaven, Muslim heaven,
gay heaven, straight heaven,
- do bisexuals go back and forth? - Ugh!
Shut up. None of those even exist.
You don't believe in any of it?
If you ever tell anyone this,
I will gouge out your eyes with my thumbs.
But I believe in love
and not saying someone is going to hell for being gay.
Because whoever says that is an [bleep].
- God says that! - Your handsy mom
and newly-minted gay dad say God says that.
Not sure those hypocrites speak for him.
This thing won't shut up.
It's ruining my chardonnay and Melatonin-flavored me time.
Sergio's car stalled.
I'm gonna go take this booze bag's Benz
and pick him up for this lame date.
I'm standing right here.
No, I totally know that.
Who are you?
I'm Lissa.
You've met me, like, so many times.
You look like you need a drink.
I think I need some advice.
From me?
You need advice from me?
Tamara found out I never told her
about hooking up with this guy that she likes,
so I said that she should have him
and then she flipped out on me.
- Ouch. - Well, I told her the truth.
You also told her that she could have the guy
you were done with. Okay, quick story.
When your father and I were dating,
we broke up several times,
but the makeup sex was always so...
- Mom. - Anyway,
to teach him a lesson during one of the breakups,
I went out with his friend, Paul.
When we got back together, I told him I hung out with Paul.
I did not tell him that Paul tried to go all the way.
So I should have told Tamara about Owen,
just not the details?
Sometimes you tell just enough of the truth
to spare people the hurt.
Hmm, that story was actually really relevant.
- Thanks, Mom. - Hmm.
Wait, was any of that even true?
Oh, honey, you feel better. Does it really matter?
Gabby, if you drop Matty now, no one will ever know
we were at this astroturf kiddie dumping ground.
Just no one Instagram anything.
Hey, maybe we should split up into teams.
Little friendly competition?
That's kind of unfair, don't you think?
I mean, we're both athletes and they're...
Finish that thought, mijo.
Oh, no. It's now my new mission in life
to destroy you at mini golf.
Evenin', ma'am.
I'm here to check out your plumbing.
Jake, are you...
Oh, God, is this supposed to be sexy or something?
Well, my customers usually aren't this forward,
but if that's what you're looking for, I'm good to go.
Okay, stop saying things and come inside.
I'm just trying to give you a taste of the bad boy.
Okay?
But you're not a bad boy.
Ugh, not even here? I can't win.
No matter how hard I try,
whether I'm the clean-cut class president
or a serious musician or a studly plumber,
I just keep getting the cutesy bull[bleep]
Like #PuppyLove or #TakeHomeToMommy.
I want to be #HitItAndQuitIt.
Aw, you're just not douchey enough for that,
which is a good thing.
Because when you learn to be comfortable with who you are,
it won't matter
if you're wearing a varsity jacket or a guitar
or a plumber's outfit you saw in a bad '80s porn.
Are you sure you don't want me to check your pipes
before I burn this ridiculous getup?
Ah, screw it, a quick snaking couldn't hurt.
Oh! Nice.
It's all in the wrist.
Okay, just like here.
Oh, my, coach. Hands.
- Focus, McKibben. - Got it.
Hole in one.
Yeah!
All right, you're up, Sergio.
Miss this, and I will rip off your [bleep]!
That only hurts you, babe.
- Ha! Huh? - Mm-hmm.
Hmm?
All right. Okay, okay.
I admit, I am the worst mini golfer here.
But how about this... I make this here putt,
and you kiss me tonight?
If you make this putt, I'll die of shock,
so you'll be kissing a corpse.
Oh, I will take that as a yes.
- Oh! - Oh! Whoa! Nice!
- Yeah! - No!
So when a hookup is on the line, suddenly you can play?
Well, it's a classic way to step up the game.
I think "game" is the operative word here, player.
Okay.
What did I do? Don't feel bad.
Maybe mini golf just isn't an athlete's game.
When I don't answer my phone,
it's 'cause I don't want to talk to you.
Just wait.
I was a jerk about the Owen situation
and definitely said some wrong things.
Go on.
I should have told you about Owen sooner.
I shouldn't have told you about the virginity thing
or said that he was hung up on me,
which clearly isn't the case,
since he immediately went and hooked up with you.
I made it all about me.
Because you think the whole world revolves around you.
Okay, jeez, I am trying to apologize.
Apology declined. Hi, Owen.
Owen, what are you doing here?
Uh, drinking juice.
I invited him. Oh, and he told me what you said,
about how you think he's using me to hurt you!
Again, it's not all about you!
Owen, I can't believe you told her that.
I was yelling at him for not telling me about you
in the first place,
and he terror-spilled it out of fear for his young life.
So turn your outrage back over here.
Tamara, chill. I am trying to make things better.
By keeping more secrets?
By assuming Owen wouldn't want me for me?
You still don't get it. It's not even about Owen.
- It's not? - Owen, be quiet.
Jenna, this is all about you and me.
You and me?
Actually, it's mostly just about you.
We're having juice now. 'Kay, thanks, bye!
Don't get in the backseat, Gabby.
His putter doesn't work right!
Yeah, not exactly good winners, huh?
Well, then again,
you're not exactly the... the best loser I've ever seen either.
Being competitive got me a full ride to Stanford.
Okay, you know what? I-I give up.
So, actually, you win.
Maybe that's your problem, McKibben.
Things come so easy to you, you can't handle a challenge.
You don't know me.
This is the first time we have interacted,
yet you seem to be an expert on... on who I am?
I know you've been trying way too hard
to convince me you're a good guy.
Did it ever occur to you that
it might be because I like you?
If you're so up for challenges, Gabby,
why don't you challenge yourself?
Get to know me, instead of doing the easy thing
and... and icing me out because you believe
a bunch of stupid hashtags and rumors.
You seem better than that.
Any of this getting through?
Score!
I'm kidding.
You know that whole "you're better than that" thing
is the only thing that's getting to me, right?
Yeah. Why do you think I saved it for last?
The more I tried to do the right thing,
the worse things got.
Tamara and I weren't the only ones having friction.
The dude database was rubbing everyone the wrong way.
Nice to see a friendly face.
Absolutely. The friendliest face.
These ladies have no [bleep] idea.
Okay?
Stop! Dead in your tracks. Attention, seniors.
Do you find yourself friendless and alienated from everyone?
Come to the club room in five minutes
to find out how to stop being awful people.
Mandatory!
There is a lot of hate in here. And I get it.
I can see why some of you hate each other.
I hate some of you, too.
I mean, sometimes when you come into my office
with your whining, I want to kill myself.
But welcome to Val's "Ur The Change"!
The "you're" is spelled u-r.
Let's get all that hate out in the open. Go!
I could go first, Val.
Oh, what a good attitude, Sadie.
Don't edit yourself.
We can all take it, right, everyone?
Huh?
I hate...
this lame exercise you're forcing on us.
You're a fake teacher and should be fired again
or thrown in jail for gross negligence.
Do us all a favor and self-deport
to whatever nowhere country
gave you your 3-easy-steps online degree in counseling
and demand a refund.
You're welcome.
Wow! I do feel better.
Next!
I hate that all you most base level of basic bitches
need infantile bonding exercises to process your [bleep].
- Grow a pair. - Preach!
I hate that... that...
that God is an [bleep]!
Isn't God the worst?
I hate that gummy worms won't tell me their secrets.
No faces.
I hate this. It's weird.
And, well, I'd rather be doing anything else.
Except maybe playing mini golf?
I don't hate anything.
I guess I'm just a nice guy that way.
I hate when my best friend
doesn't tell me huge things in her life,
and then throws me her sloppy seconds like it's a favor.
And I hate when you can't see
that I am sincerely trying to help!
I hate that you can't see
that I'm not always second best!
I hate that you think you're second best.
I mean, you're so organized,
and... and you have your [bleep] together,
and you don't exist in this constant state of teen angst.
Well, I hate that you don't see
that you're the kind of relaxed cool
that I will never relax enough to be.
All the guys flock to you and...
I'm jealous.
T., you're gorgeous. You got into college.
You're about to take control of your future.
- You're amazing. - Thank you for saying that.
Was that so hard? You're amazing, too.
You know what, clearly, this isn't working.
I'm guessing it's your fault.
I'm just gonna throw in the puberty video
and pretend like this never happened.
After Tamara and I very publicly cleared the air,
we still needed to anonymously atone
for our anonymous dude database drama.
So we decided to add positive hashtags
- to level the playing field. - What about Kyle?
- He's a tough one. - #EmoStud?
Oh, #SecretTigerInBed!
Owen! Hey, come here for a sec.
Jenna, Tamara,
looks like you guys are getting along.
You stepped into some heavy drama
that was not of your making, and we're sorry.
I just hope this didn't fully scar you or anything.
Are you kidding? Two senior girls in two weeks.
I'm basically a legend. I mean, you don't even know.
Ugh. He's so #AdorablyGoofy.
Is it tragic that I still want some?
- Yes! - J.K., I'm done.
- _ - Hey, I thought you said we couldn't delete
this stupid database?
Jenna, please. You can't delete it.
Too late, I already did.
No! Jenna, I didn't mean you can't delete it!
I mean don't [bleep] delete it!
_
Holy [bleep].