At home, Emily is watching videos of Maya in the dark, just caressing the screen and crying. The poem is important because it offers further confirmation that Maya is a Time Lord, and also the poem is sad because it’s more of that theme we’re seeing of flashback Maya where she realizes she’s running out of time to be with Emily. The more she talks about clocks ticking and minutes whizzing by, the more I understand about the crazy-eyed clinginess she displayed right before she went missing. Either she knew she was about to Hyperspace Jump or she knew Emily was about to get murdered or when you never age like Bianca Lawson it’s just fun to brag about time in general. Anyway, the poem is really heartbreaking up until the part where she starts talking about “thickening plot” and love being “all they’ve got.” Like, at that point, even Robert Frost thinks you’ve taken the rhyming thing too far.
The “party room” in Noel Kahn’s basement is just what you’d expect. Shirtless douchebags playing pool, Eric Kahn perving on virgins, people sitting across from one another on leather couches in front of a fire taking turns telling the truth about how awful they are. Cece, as you would expect, is right in her element. She even tries to get the party started by getting her ducklings wasted. Aria and Spencer are both like, “No, thanks. Our friend still hasn’t unraveled the mysteries of what happened to her the last time she drank vodka.” The game where you tell what a horrible human being you are is just called “Truth,” and the rules are: Tell the truth or it’s sayonara!
No, for real. If you get caught in a lie, they take you outside and shoot you.
You will be unsurprised, then, to hear that Rosewood’s most recent handgun owner, JennaBot Marshall is in attendance. She’s there as Noel Kahn’s date acting like Mona can’t break out of Radley at her leisure and fuck her up something good. The four of them agree to play Truth, but you can only play Truth if you’re sitting on the Truth Sofas, so they glare and wait their turn.
Marin Manor. Hanna watches the clock tick closer to Rosewood Grill’s closing time and decides she’d better face the music because she doesn’t want it to be her sitting in her bedroom watching videos of Caleb reading poems about love’s thickening plot this time next summer. Ashley tries half-heartedly to cook them a family dinner, but as soon as Hanna’s out the door, she’s on the phone with Pastor Ted, all, “You bring the rubbers, I’ll bring the wine.”
Hanna is hanging around outside Rosewood Grill, eyes closed and arms wide open for the murderer who’s supposed to be descending on her at any moment. Luckily, the murderer is Caleb. Or, well, luckily Caleb is pretending to be the murderer. What I mean is, it’s lucky that Caleb knew Hanna was trying to keep him from getting murdered so he could threaten to murder himself so she could offer herself up to him to be murdered on his behalf. You know, I think this show has really skewed my perception of the word “luck.” Anyway, Hanna gets in the car and they drive to an abandoned alley so she can literally say the words, “‘A’ flew to Montecito to run your mom off the road and give me the creeps, and that’s why I broke up with you.” Caleb explains his worth as an ally: 1) There is no end to the hot spots he can access to hack into website pages. 2) He loves Hanna almost as much as the Liars do, and that means he’s willing to stay tight-lipped about her shenanigans. 3) Well, they never get to number three. He just presses her up against the wall and they kiss something fierce.