Previously on Pretty Little Liars, Mona Vanderwall exceeded every expectation leveled at her by God and men by dusting off a three-year-old Mean Girls code and communicating to the Liars that Maya made a deathbed website for the purpose of Instagram-ing her adventures in being murdered. Ezra walked into a bank and asked for a million dollars cash and the teller just handed it over due to his face. Spencer rescued Jason from a drunk driving crash, but left her car at the scene of the crime, a brass-balled move that made Detective Snape spit and Toby’s eyes bug out of his head. Hanna came under scrutiny for having blood. And Emily accidentally roofied Paige.
The Liars have called a meeting at Emily’s to try to break into Maya’s website page some more, and Hanna is adamant that Spencer admit Mona is trying to help them. Spencer goes, “I don’t know …” And Hanna is like, “That’s right! You don’t know!” She explains that Mona is afraid like they are afraid, and they’re all in this together, and just back off, OK? I’ll be honest: I had Hanna pegged as a Hufflepuff for the first two seasons of this show, but her relentless loyalty to Mona and all-around courageousness this season have led me to believe she is a Gryffindor through and through. Maybe Dumbledore was right. Maybe we do sort too soon.
When Emily returns from a phone call with Cousin Nate, the Liars ask her if it’s OK if they really get to hacking. Emily’s like, “I got this.” She rolls up her sleeves, tries any old password, then concludes she didn’t even know Maya at all since she couldn’t guess the super secret password to her super hidden website page on the first try. (Dear my girlfriend, if you can’t break into my Gmail after I die, that doesn’t mean I didn’t love you.)
At the Montgomery’s, Byron pops his head into Aria’s room, says, “How long has it been since I was last extradimensionally horrible to you? More than a day? OK, here goes: Meredith got that job at your school, but don’t worry about telling your mom. That’s all me.” Aria doesn’t have the heart to tell Byron that Ella doesn’t even remember his name anymore. She just smiles sympathetically and pats his terrible head and bounces up out of there.
Emily takes Nate up to a boathouse we’ve never heard of because apparently it was one of her favorite places to take Maya. Emily fondly tells about how she and Maya used to come up here to do some sex, and float little origami boats out onto the water like a thousand candlelit Lucases washing out to sea. Nate goes, “Us too. We did that too, me and Maya. But, like, instead of boats, it was me telling her if I couldn’t be with her no one could be with her, and then I would hold her head under water and be like, ‘Do you understand me?’ It was this game we played. When we were kids. Cousin kids. She liked it.”
Then, out of nowhere, he goes, “I’ve never understood how you kill someone, rhetorically speaking. Do you have any ideas? Like would you use a knife or poison? Should I get a gun? Do you ever come up here by yourself at night, unarmed?” Emily doesn’t answer because she’s accidentally caught a glimpse of her reflection in the water and taken her own breath away.
Aria bursts into Ezra’s apartment demanding that he strip down and do some push-ups – which: if that were a spin-off show, Lucy Hale just shouting while Ian Harding exercised for an hour, 70 percent of this PLL audience would never miss an episode – but she’s stopped short by the site of a fancy lady standing in the middle of the loft sipping tea with her pinky out and pronouncing “croissant” like “kwahsaangh.” The fancy lady is Ezra’s mom, Mrs. Fitzgerald, and her very existence answers the question: What would happen if Lily van der Woodsen and Ashley Marin gave birth to a child who was raised by Emily Gilmore in a palace made of crystallized peasant tears? She requests the presence of Aria and Ezra at a gala, then breezes out of the room in a cloud of Chanel.
Hastings House of Horrors. Hanna is crawling all over Spencer like a spider-monkey, going, “Are we in yet? Are we in yet? Did you crack Maya’s code yet?” Spencer says, “It’s not a pinata; I can’t just WHACK IT with a stick!” But before she can explain the finer points of password protection to a girl who stashes millions of dollars in cash in spaghetti noodle boxes, Toby storms – and I mean storms! – into the house and demands an audience with his beloved. Now that she knows who he is, Hanna tries to greet him, but he literally throws his hand out at Hanna like when people used to say “talk to the hand!” and it is maybe the most amazing thing he has ever done. “Hanna.” he says. Just like that with the period at the end of her name: “Hanna.” Spencer’s like, “Ohhhkay. Han, you want to take this evidence box upstairs and I’ll be there in a second?”
Toby is positively incandescent with rage. He’s like, “Jason has ‘gone across the state line’ to ‘pay cash’ to have his car fixed! And so now I have lied to the cops about evidence, thanks to you!” Spencer goes, “Another idea is that maybe he’s at the grocery sto-” But Toby throws that hand out again and says, “EVIDENCE.” Spencer’s like, “Look, calm down. There’s a whole fireplace full of evidence over there if you want some.” But Toby will not calm down! He says he’s going rogue! He’s going to become his own private eye, probably get one of those Dick Tracy hats and everything. A trench coat. A magnifying glass. He leaves the way he entered, in a huff of chin and weird hair. It’s spectacular.
At her mansion(!), Paige is outside giving her bike a tune-up because it’s like they always say: You never know when you’ll need to pedal off into a thunderstorm during the witching hour like wackadoodle. Emily scuffs the ground with her shoe, says, “Haven’t seen you around since I accidentally roofied you.” Paige is like, “Yeah, since school is apparently optional in Rosewood, I took a couple of days off.” She gets really squirrelly when Emily tries to discuss the details of the magically poisoned flask, but Emily goes, “Look, Paige, if we’re going to be lesbians together, you have to tell me every one of your feelings.” They make plans to meet up tomorrow after school for a process fest.
Rear Window Brew. Dr. Wren is taking a break from being the only medical professional in the greater Philadelphia area so he can meet with Hanna. It seems Radley is not equipped to deal with the kind of prolonged adrenalized hyperreality Mona is throwing at them, so they want to ship her out to Saratoga – “Saratoga, New York,” explains Wren helpfully – at the same mental hospital where they keep Lex Luthor and The Joker. “This is unacceptable information!” Hanna Spencers, “And so IT CANNOT BE TRUE!” Caleb chooses that moment to return from California. He scowls at the two of them because he knows they’re plotting about Mona, which means he’s still in the losing bracket when it comes to the game of Hanna.
But his pain has been eased marginally by the fact that he no longer has to get a ride from loony Lucas every time he wants to leave the state. After being run off the road by “A” a couple of weeks ago, Caleb’s mom decided she didn’t really need her car so much anymore, so she gave it to her long lost son. At school the next day, Spencer ambushes Caleb: “Firstly, as someone who comes from money, please allow me to say: Niiiice. Secondly, it’s boyfriend musical chairs and you’re up.” Up for what, Caleb wants to know. “Up for telling me how to break into a hypothetical website created by the hypothetical dead girlfriend of my hypothetical best friend who needs hypothetical answers about why people keep killing her hypothetical lady loves.” Caleb nods. It sounds plausible. They agree to meet after school.
Inside the school, Emily looks stunning. Like, when this scene came on, my very straight best friend who’s interest in this show can best be summed up as “Ian Harding” grabbed the remote, paused the DVR and said, “Goddamn.” Aria has finally admitted that she does not know how to dress herself without committing mass murder to woodland creatures, and somehow she doesn’t think that’s going to sit well with the matriarch of the Ezbian Fitzgerald family. They agree she should probably talk to Spencer because out of the four of them, she’s the only one who knows the difference between a shrimp fork and a salad fork, and also understands the rules of cricket.
After school, Spencer tries to give Caleb an out from helping with Maya’s website page, but he wants to “crush the Mona monster,” so he’s in. While he continues to blaspheme the name the One True God, Spencer gets a text from “A” talking about: Mona’s almost gone, Hanna’s next.
Rosewood High court yard. The Liars do their mid-episode debrief:
Spencer: We’ve got to crack Maya’s website page. We crack the lock on Maya’s website page, and then we crack the lock on Garrett’s whole dirty history. Hanna: While we’re doing that, can we make sure my blood is still safe from Detec- Spencer: I TOLD YOU MY MOM IS ON THAT. Aria: Speaking of moms, Ezra’s is a bitch. Emily: I gotta go. I think I just saw Paige sprint by like a flash of insanity.
At Spencer’s, Aria is explaining the kind of thing she’d like to wear to the gala this evening: “Something that says Fitzgerald, but not one of your Great Gatsby costumes. Something classy. But, like, Kate Middleton classy, not Spencer Hastings classy. Nothing frumpy. No weird Victorian lace turtlenecks. I don’t want to look like the wife of a Puritan minister.” Spencer would like to be offended, but there’s no time for that because she spots her mom’s unmanned briefcase and gets to photocopying every single piece of paper inside that thing. One of the things they find is a list of witnesses, and beside the name “Bart Comstock,” Victoria has written “Crack!” Aria marvels at the wonder of genetics and agrees to take up the Hastings family motto and crack Bart Comstock by herself.
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.
At the Fitzgerald Gala, Ezra and Aria are better than they ever have been. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: The writers’ decision to put external pressure on Aria and Ezra, stuff they can face down together as a couple, as opposed to internal pressure about will-they/won’t-they, is one of the best decisions this show has ever made. It frees them up to interact with other characters, worry about other things, and, apparnetly, team up for awesomeness.
Ezra tries to convince Aria that they’d be much better off going home and spooning and watching a movie instead of hobnobbing with a bunch of socialites. At first Aria thinks the problem is that he hasn’t come out to his mom, but really the problem is his family is rich-rich, and he’s afraid they’re going to take a hit out on Aria and force him to marry the princess of Genovia.
There’s a really solid moment of acting right here when Ezra asks Aria if she’s angry because he hid his wealth from her, and she goes, “… no. I don’t think so. But I think you owe me something for all those Ramen noodles.” And the delivery is so Holly Marie Combs you can actually finally start to believe that Aria might be amazing enough to be Ella’s daughter.
Emily has wandered back up to the boathouse to do some thinking and stuff, but she’s interrupted by Cousin Nate bumbling around inside there, doing some measurements and dropping off a chainsaw. He’s like, “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you’d be up here at night time. I was just setting up a murder room. Er, I mean, I came to do origami.” Emily asks him a very weird question about how much of who you are is who you really are when you’ve been poisoned with a cocktail of vodka and rohypnol. Nate’s like, “Well, in vino veritas, so probably about 70 percent is for real. Why, are you drunk? Do you want to makeout?”
And reader, no she does not. She does not. I’ll be honest, I thought this episode, “Stolen Kisses,” was going to be about Nate and Emily stealing some confused kisses, and oh, I was dreading it, so when the camera cut away with nothing more than him giving her his jacket, I got such a headrush I nearly fell over.
As expected, Ezra’s mom corners Aria the gala and throws down a gauntlet: “Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have the presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. Ezra Fitzgerald is engaged to one of the finest members of the royal family of Genovia. From infancy, they have been set apart for one another, and I will not allow you and your philandering father and your pottery-thieving brother and your … outfits to derail his regal destiny in the name of ‘love.'” Having never been spoken to thus – nor encountered real adversity of any kind – Aria runs out of the museum in tears. (Ezbian’s mom, why have you been hiding your light under a bushel? Come back any time.)
At Radley, Hanna gives a fine speech about why Mona shouldn’t be shipped off to a Gotham City prison. She starts by reading some medical terminology she jotted down from Wikipedia, but quickly stashes her index cards and explains, quite truthfully, that in Mona is kind of the love of her life, and no one else in the world is ever going to care about her the way Hanna does. At Radley, she’ll always have Hanna’s affection, but literally anywhere else in the world, she’ll be left out in the cold. Gryffindor Head Girl. Dumbledore’s Army, through and through.
Emily walks to Paige’s house, completely sober this time. And there’s no way I can do it better than them, so here it is for real:
Paige: I’m sorry. Emily: It wasn’t your fault. Paige: I shouldn’t have let it happen. It was wrong. If I ever find out who put that stuff in your flask, I swear, I’ll kill them. Emily: Don’t say that. Paige: I mean it. Emily: I don’t want you to say it. I don’t want you to mean it. I want you to listen.
Piano: [Plays lovingly] Emily: I haven’t been with anyone since Maya. I haven’t even thought about it. Or at least I didn’t think I was thinking about it. Paige’s face: [I know you loved Maya. I know I missed my chance.] Emily: I was drunk that night, and I got lost. Paige’s face: [I know you didn’t come to me on purpose. I know that now.]
Emily: Only I didn’t really get lost. I was looking for something. I was looking … for somebody. Paige’s face: [Wait, what?] Emily’s body: [Moves closer and closer and closer.] Emily: And I came here. Paige’s lungs: [Stops breathing] Emily: Don’t look away.
They kiss and it is the sexiest thing that has ever, ever happened on this show and easily one of the best lesbian kisses we’ve ever had on TV, and honestly, I’ve watched it about 600 times now and it just keeps getting better. It’s so raw and so real and Emily has been lonely for so long and Paige has been waiting for so long and however dizzy I was when Emily didn’t go for Nate after all, you can multiply that times a million and calculate how much my head is spinning and I’ll just be over here breathing into a paper bag trying not to hyperventilate.I’m not sure any lesbian character on TV has ever resonated with me like Paige McCullers. That doesn’t mean I didn’t like Maya. I loved Maya. But she’s gone. And through the power of inspired writing, and Lindsey Shaw just throwing herself into this character, I have glimpsed the glory of truth in Paige’s story. Keats said he was sure of nothing but the holiness of the heart’s affections and the truth of imagination, and there’s something about Paige – about the way she wages war on her desires, nurses her self-inflicted shame, craves and fears being known in equal measure – that feels profoundly genuine to me.
Supporting characters, as a general rule, only exist as catalysts for main characters. They set up the jokes so main characters can deliver the punchlines. They get themselves into trouble so main characters can come to the rescue. They ask questions so main characters can provide answers that propel along the story. Not always, but mostly, they are stick figures that could not exist out in the world on their own. But Paige, to me, feels real, feels solid, feels not like a type of character, but like an actual person, with deep wishes and desperate urges and a consuming fear of failing.
The central conflict of human life can pretty much be summed by a self-hating rant the Apostle Paul goes on in the book of Romans, during the middle of which he lays down this tongue twister: “I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.” That’s the kind of conundrum most writers wouldn’t be ballsy enough to throw at even the main-est of main characters – hell, it took Terrence Malick years to explore that concept in The Tree of Life – much less a supporting minority character. But that nuanced enigma is Paige’s whole entire deal: What happens when you hate the thing you want? Then hate the embodiment of your desire? Then fall hopelessly in love with her?
She could tell you her despair, and you could tell her yours. She could reach for your hand, and you could reach for hers. You could try to choke her out like a fever dream, she could try to push you out of the closet. You could ride your bike for miles in the rain to tell her that you’re sorry; kiss her at precisely the wrong moment, then tell her that you’re sorry; upend a pile of birthday cupcakes looking for a goddamn coconut one, then tell her that you’re sorry. You could get it all wrong. Always, always wrong. Not understanding what you do. Doing the thing you hate. And then one night, by the light of the moon, she could crack you open and coax out your shame and demand that you look at it, look at her. And you could finally – even just for a moment – stop hating yourself for wanting.
First love is a great story, but my favorite tale is one of redemption.
That this one exists on ABC Family, in the form of a lesbian supporting character who gets the girl, boggles the mind. Boggles the mind and slays the heart and makes me want to beg for more, kind of like Paige leaning and leaning and leaning into this kiss.
At home, Aria wonders out loud if she ruined Ezra’s like, and Byron is like, “Clearly I am no fan of your happiness, but even a shitbird like me knows the world is a better place because you’re a part of it.”
At Radley, Hanna gets the news that the advisers are going to let Mona stay. She is so overjoyed, she kisses the nearest British person directly on the mouth, like you do.
And at Spencer’s, the Liars minus Emily watch waaaay too many videos from Maya’s website. It’s like the damn NAT club up in there. There’s a video of Emily eating ice cream that gets Aria all hot and bothered. A video of Maya in a blanket fort talking about how kissing Emily makes her feel like there are clocks all over the world running backwards. (I told you she was a Time Lord, you guys. I told you in those comics I made!) A chilling video of Maya saying she’s going to face her fears and stop being a coward, and then some flashing red lights like a police car. Aria, correctly, goes, “Call. her. We can’t watch this without her.”
But Emily’s phone is in the pocket of Nate’s jacket and she is swimming (naked?) (naked!) laps with Paige McCullers.
Maybe this scene is a blatant metaphor for sex, or maybe it’s a subtle metaphor for baptism. Breathing in, breathing out. Deep, unspeakable wounds of suffering healed by the promise of new life. Shakespeare knew what he was talking about when he said, “Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptized.” Or maybe this scene is a metaphor for both of those things. Nothing makes you feel whole-er or new-er than some good old fashioned doin’ it.
The Risen Mitten withdraws a hundred billion dollars in cash from the bank, and helps herself to a peppermint on the way out the door.
An enormous thank you to my screencapping partner Maggie, who sent over this weeks pics with a note that said: “It took great restraint on my part not to screencap what I have dubbed ‘the hottest thing to happen in a or near a pool during an Olympic summer ever’ second by second.” You should follow her on Twitter and show her so much love.
