Thomas walks outside the club and calls Effy and Naomi to him, and Katie and Freddie too. And here’s how you know Katie knows: She’s about to come out of her skin just standing near Naomi. Naomi has a part of Emily that Katie has never (and will never) have and Katie knows it. She hates Naomi for it. She’s terrified of Naomi because of it. Naomi asks if she’s going to be a bitch to her or what, and Katie says that yeah, she will; just give her time.
Cook and JJ round the corner, and Cook is … flying. Seriously. Like flapping his wings and soaring through the air. No one is happy to see him. Thomas says that Emily is already inside. Naomi drops her eyes and pretends not to care, pretends not to be affected by the very mention of Emily’s name. Katie snaps, "Where?" And the way she and Naomi’s heads snap ’round to survey each other, trying to size up what the other one knows about Emily, who is holding on to what part of her: It’s amazing.
Not amazing? Emily is trashed and Cook immediately jumps in there and starts feeling her up. Katie pulls her away because she’s never going to be done protecting her baby sister.
There’s a brawl inside the club, which leads to an alleyway, which leads Cook to spilling his guts. He confesses that Effy loves Freddie, not him. And that he’s been bonking Panda. Thomas overhears, of course, and is ready to thrax Cook, but Freddie steps in and stops him. JJ confesses that he kind of roofied Cook, and after all his worrying and trying to patch their family back together, he’s afraid he’s the one who finally did them in. Freddie says he needs some space and JJ is almost crying when he asks if he can still come to Freddie’s shed. And yes, of course he can. They will always be his family.
Rophy says: Did you just say thrax?
Heather says: Sophy told me to start a new section in my Australian slang journal for Rin-speak! So I did!
Out on the curb, JJ finds Emily coming off her high and shivering in the cold. She says she can’t go to her home, and so he invites her to his home.
The next morning she wakes up to find him making notes on his friendship board, wearing feety pajamas. (I have two pairs of feety pajamas, so don’t even start with me.)
Rophy says: Oh, mentioning your wardrobe again, are we?
She smiles. And he smiles. And I love them together.
JJ and Emily — much like Cook and Naomi — are a kind of kindred spirits, in that they’ve spent their entire lives being boxed-in by someone else’s definition of who they are. You heard JJ rattle off his definition to Emily on their picnic: retard, nut job, fag case, spazo, fob, autistic fucking fruitcake mental basket. And where do you think he heard that? Kids on the playground. Teachers. Counselors. Doctors. Freddie and Cook. And Katie’s been coloring in the lines that define Emily since they were born, dressing her up and putting words in her mouth like a Katie-shaped doll.