Emily: I don’t get it. You really care about this stuff.
Naomi: What stuff?
Emily: Equality, environmentalism, feminism, I-don’t-ever-want-to-shut-my-mouthism. Come on. You know about politics. You’re always talking about it.
Naomi: Emily, we’ve had about three conversations our entire lives, so the idea that you always know I’m always talking about anything is a bit ridiculous.
Emily somehow manages not to say, "Yeah, well we probably would have more conversations if we could do something with out mouths besides smash them into one another every time we get alone together." Instead she’s like, "Yeah, OK" and shoots Cook the foulest look when he walks up. If Cook noticed foul looks, though, his entire Cook-ness would crumble, so he just takes the opportunity to tell Naomi that he’s been thinking she should see more cock. She says she’ll see it when he runs for president and passes a law that forces her to see it, and he’s like, "OK, I’ll go ahead and fill out those forms!"
She follows him and climbs up on some boxes to peer into the registration classroom to see if he’s serious, and it’s sex, so of course he’s serious. She tumbles off the boxes when a wanker named Crispin storms out of the room, and so Cook finds her sprawled out in the hallway with her knickers on display. He says they should "get together and feel all right," and she’s all, "You couldn’t make me feel all right if you stapled your tongue to my clit and stood on a cement mixer." Which: Ouch. And: I don’t know what kind of weird fan fiction you’ve been reading, Naomi, but that is not a thing.
She walks away and flips him off while he laughs that crazy Cook laugh. And I have been trying for a year to figure out what the hell Naomi’s giant denim bag says, and I think I just decoded it: "Warning. This Contains Ideas." I would mock that, but I spend half my life shouting things like, "Have you seen my Wonder Woman Ideas Notebook?" And, "Do you know where I put my SpongeBob Ideas Folder?" And, "My Ideas Envelope, the one with the dinosaurs on it, any idea where I left it?"
Kieran’s waiting to give Naomi a ride home in the kind of car you’d get if you bought all the pieces from that leftover parts room at IKEA and then assembled them in the dark, with your feet, while you were drunk. Shockingly, it won’t start, so he asks for a ride home on her bike, and instead they walk together and talk about how he stood for student government once and she should too. She pretends not to care, which is her modus operandi obviously, but grabs the registration paper from his hand at the last minute with the cutest "thanks" ever.
Inside, Naomi’s mum is all, "I saw you hanging around on the street corner with a scruffy man twice your age and rather than being alarmed at the familiar yet awkward body language between you, I just waved! It’s a nice change from the way you’re usually just clomping around and scowling and nipping at bananas all by yourself!" Oh, and also: "One of these drifters stole the telly from your bedroom."
Naomi opens up her bedroom door shouting about how there’s never any peace in her house — which is kind of a theme in this episode, how badly Naomi wants peace — and notices that there’s a little Emily Fitch sitting sweetly on her bed, hands folded neatly in her lap.
Naomi: How did you get in?
Emily: Some weird guy let me in — looks a bit like Jesus.
Naomi: Yeah, it’s like a game of Christ-shaped Guess Who in this house. What do you want?