Emily finally runs down Paige, way the hell out in the woods. “Paige!” she shouts. “Will you slow down for like five seconds so I can apologize for roofie-ing you.” Paige waves her hand to dismiss Emily’s penance. “It happens. Let’s forget it.” Emily’s like, “Funny you should say that. I seem to have forgotten falling through a wormhole a couple of weeks ago.” Paige sighs and rolls her eyes at herself and goes, “Yeah. I know. The twin paradox portal dumped you out on my porch.”
Emily’s face is as confused as my brain. You think Allison accomplished a lot of shit the day she died? In the span of about three hours, Emily went for a joyride with Jenna around the town square, which probably — let’s be honest — involved mild flirting and crafting; visited a diner in 1954 where she did a word puzzle on the back of a paper menu and had a long conversation with a friendly hobbit; exhumed one of her dead girlfriend’s bodies from the earth with her bare hands; and walked to Paige McCullers’ house, which could be miles away or just across the street. You never know in Rosewood. Sometimes I get the feeling everyone’s house is in everyone else’s backyard.
Emily is like, “OK, start from the beginning.” Paige goes, “Basically, you showed up on my porch and threw yourself at me, and my brain was like, ‘Dude, she’s drunk, OK? And also she’s probably still mourning.’ But my heart was like, ‘Emily,’ you know? You were so close. And then my heart and my pants conspired against me and we made out a little bit and it was actually pretty awesome until you sneaked out when I went to get you some water and Advil.” Which is amazing because it’s just so Paige. Of course she would accidentally sexually assault Emily. Of course that would happen to her.
There would be this golden moment of sunshine when she thought Emily had really, truly come to her, and they’d kiss so much Paige would be dizzy with it, and then — ever so slowly — the haze would unravel. First, she’d realize Emily was drunk. Then she’d decide maybe Emily had been looking for someone else. Then Emily would sneak out. Then ignore her at school, pretend it didn’t happen. Or worse, really not remember that it had happened. And so Paige’s feelings would get even more tangled up than usual because of getting what she wanted but hating the way she got it — and then! she’d find out Emily had actually been roofied. That’s just like a Tuesday in Paige’s world.
Emily is like, “OK, just to be clear: You wouldn’t accept my apology for drugging you because it meant you had to acknowledge that we made out while I had been drugged in a similar fashion on my Night of A Thousand Nights?”
Yep, that’s it exactly.
At Radley, Dr. Wren explains that Mona’s board of advisers didn’t care for his testimony and that Mona will be shipping out to Saratoga (New York) before the week is out. But then he has an idea. “Just because they wouldn’t listen to an non-psychiatrist like me doesn’t mean they won’t listen to a non-psychiatrist like you. Maybe you should talk to them!” And maybe you should stop trying to eye-f–k her like that, WREN.
At Rosewood Multiplex, Aria finds the be-cracked Mr. Comstock, who is ever so happy to tell this random teenage girl the exact testimony he gave the police about Maya’s death: “Well, when two lesbians come in and make out, that’s not something a pervo like me ever forgets. So, I was always noticing Maya St. Germain after that. Noticing the way she walked, the way she talked, the way she got into Garrett Reynolds’ cop car a couple of hours before she was found dead.”
OK, for starters, way to call a perv a perv, PLL. No glorifying the male gaze on this show. And also, Maya, what in the world were you doing creeping around Rosewood the night you were killed?! Why didn’t you call for backup?! Why doesn’t anyone ever call for backup?!?
Hastings’ Place. Spencer and Caleb are supposed to be breaking into Maya’s website, but instead they are unwittingly flirting and exuding so much chemistry it’s like someone upped the saturation on my TV to 11. She teases him for having money now, for not living in the rafters in the school gym anymore. He’s like, “Yeah, I’ve never had a washing machine before. Or really any clothes to wash in one.” Spencer is like, “Washing machine?! Have you gone mad?! This stuff is dry clean only.” They giggle and touch each other’s arms a little too much for comfort and finally burgle their way into Maya’s website page.
OK, and hang onto your heart, because it really is Maya, and she’s reading the most famous line of Andrew Marvell’s “To His Coy Mistress,” which really should be the go-to love poem in Rosewood, PA since it’s message is basically: If I had a thousand lives, I would admire you for all of them, but I’ll be dead by sunset, so let’s get down to business. Maya (oh, Maya!) says that this site will be where she keeps stuff, because she’s always losing stuff (Maaaayyyyya), oh, and also that it’s cursed (Maya!) so hackers beware! Hearing Emily talk about hanging out with Maya at the boathouse, and watching Maya be silly and sweet like this, makes me wish we could have seen all of these things in real-time, and not just in exposition. But there’s a lot of ground to cover, and I get it, and honestly, I’m just so chuffed to see Bianca Lawson‘s face again. (She’s some kind of mysterious werewolf wrangler on Teen Wolf right now. And she’s a badass, which I missed from her on PLL.)
Spencer and Caleb smile fondly, even though I’m not sure either of them ever had a conversation with Maya, and then they hug and make me nervous some more.