It’s Tuesday night in Eastern Seaboard American City, and you know what that means: Time to get your rave on! Tony and Michelle are going at it against the wall of a thumping club, and I confess I flashed back to the opening of UK Skins series four, hoping against hope to see that girl Sophia stumble by, wearing jean shorts and a 1.21 jiggawatt cataclysmic grin. (Adultery, like chlamydia, makes a party go with such a swing!) But no. The only cheating c–ksucker this time around is Tony. Michelle tells him she loves him and he pretends, repeatedly, not to hear her, before pulling her back to the bar where thinks Tea might be hanging out.
Michelle tells Daisy that she and Tony were “reconnecting.” And oh, honey, no. That is not what that was at all. Betty is at the rave (hi, Betty!) and she drags Michelle out onto the dance floor because my imagination just needed that much of a boost to turn this thing into a Tea/Betty/Michelle love triangle.
Tea sees them dancing together and is like, “Sufferin’ succotash, why are my insides on fire? There’s a monster inside of me trying to claw his way through my skin! What is happening?” Right? Because Tea has probably never been jealous a day in her life. That’s what happens when no one matches up to you. Like even as a kid, if someone stole her crayons, she was probably all, “That’s cool. I’ll just color with my vastly superior box of 96 CRAYOLAS.” She is five seconds from bolting when Daisy does the best friend thing ever. She overrides Tea’s internal struggle with an external challenge: “I dare you to go dance with her.” So then it’s not about Tea’s desires and Tea’s vulnerabilities and Tea’s envy; it’s about proving something to Daisy rather than herself. (Can’t wait to know you next week, Daisy!)
Tea stalks over like some kind of lioness and wraps Betty’s arm around her. Michelle sort of smirks and leaves them to it. She wants to go home with Tony and bone some more, but he’d rather glower at Betty and Tea while Abbud glowers at him glowering at Betty and Tea. Michelle wakes up with Tony, though, in her own house in her own bed. Probably they’re not sure how they got there.
Apparently the guy who was trying to molest Cadie at that pool party a couple of weeks ago wasn’t Michelle’s step-dad at all. He was one of many boxcars on the Michelle’s Mom Express. Today, the caboose will be Jason or Johnson or Jack or Jerry or all four. No one seems to know. Michelle scampers off to the OBGYN by herself, where the good doctor mixes up Michelle’s chart with her mom’s chart. It’s a full-service visit, anyway, but all Michelle wanted was more birth control.
At school, Tea is — get this — holding Betty’s hand, and steering her toward the gang’s table in the Nutbush. Everyone’s eyeballs bug out of their heads because Tea is a lover, a fighter, a f–ker and a ball of fire, but she is not a hand-holder. She’s like, “Shove it, we’ve been spending a lot of time together.” Betty agrees in the most syrupy voice you’ve ever heard, and then: public canoodling! Which means, of course, that everything is about to fall apart in spectacular fashion.
Michelle gets a call from her doctor, and then one of my favorite director things happens. The camera gets in on her face, closer and closer and closer, until you can only see parts of it and her mouth is going, “Wait, what? I have what? Chlamydia? What?” And then it pans out and her brain goes click! click! and her long legs eat up the cafeteria floor in a flash and she is kicking the table and then backhanding Tony with her fist and kicking him right in the babymaker. Like Batman. I’m serious. Like Kapow! And Crrrraaack! And Thwack! And Zwaap!
Tony gets exactly zero sympathy, and Betty even pauses on the way out the door to spit on him and go, “You are a life ruiner. You ruin lives.” And she doesn’t even know the half of it yet.