Ivy, Dixon and Oscar McAccent
She makes up for it by confiding in Dixon her most well-guarded secret: Her M.I.A. dad lives less than 10 minutes away with a new wife and kids, and nary a thought to his first abandoned daughter. Now Laurel's underage late-night activities don't seem so bad.
After getting some particularly physically-targeted compliments from her boss, Annie assumes that she must be getting hit on. Ordinarily, we'd advise her to consider some alternative theories, but the Katherine's undeniable giddyness when Annie is around is enough to make even us feel a little uncomfortable. But wait, no, logic prevails when Annie discovers the boss is married...to a man (hey, it's California and there was that Prop 8 window). But not before Annie gave yet another hilarious/painfully awkward monologue/ramble about how boy crazy she is, laying it on entirely too thick. Isn't this girl trying to be an actress? You know, preferably not on a soap opera?
Things get even creepier when husband starts to ogle Annie as well, leading to the only logical conclusion: They're swingers! Oh, if only that were true. Turns out Boss and Mr. Boss can't have children and are looking to buy some of Annie's eggs. Despite the incredibly weird and inappropriate way they went about propositioning her, we think Annie could look a little more flattered. Someone being so impressed with you that they want to raise someone with one of your X chromosomes is probably the best compliment you could receive. Or no, wait. They want to pay you for the honor. That's better.
Ade and righteously-angered Uncle
We love it when our 90210er's mistakes come to bite them on the bum. Well, only when they really deserve it. After singing Javier's song at his memorial service -- which is pretty much the biggest metaphysical slap in the face she could have delivered -- Ade goes viral when a recording of the performance is posted on YouTube. Apparently she's more popular than some talking baby (but not more popular than the smoking baby, obviously). Adding to the clicks is Javier's uncle, who recognizes the song from a demo his nephew recorded six months before, and he is none too pleased. Ade gets asked to go on Entertainment Tonight and Uncle Luna is there to rain on her Ade parade. He'd like to know where she gets off stealing his nephew's music, and frankly, so would we.
Poor Teddy finds himself groggily waking up from either a drunken one-night stand or the best pillow party EVER. What? We totally leave little love notes for our friends after fizz-addled pillow wars. We like to let them know we care.
At school however, he's all about making up his transgressions to Silver. This is difficult, seeing as she won't talk to him and a jealous Mr. Cannon gives him a 5,000-word essay assignment, sucking up his free groveling time. Instead, he uses a time capsule video Harper Feingold is spearheading and Silver is editing to get his point across, and it works. Silver forgives him and Harper makes fun of his lame-ass time capsule speech.
Unfortunately, the nightmare isn't over for poor Teddy, who is approached at school by his mysterious fling partner, Ian. This would have been awesomely shocking had it not been revealed a month ago. Nobody wins when you kiss and tell, CW.
Naomi, Silver and Mr. Cannon aka our school system at work
Mr. Cannon is growing increasingly more controlling over Silver, doling out extra homework to her wayward boyfriend and requesting her presence at his house. Is it just us, or shouldn't someone see a pattern after the 50th "Wow, what am I saying? THAT was inappropriate!" come out of a teacher's mouth? Just us? Okay, whatever.
Before Silver gets lured back to Casa de Cannon with the belief that a CNN alum wants the opinion of a 17-year-old on his revival of "Wild Kingdom," she sees a some very strange behavior exhibited in Naomi's capsule message. Naomi looks tired, depressed, deflated, and she's making weird, existentialist statements about mankind -- not at all her bitchy, effervescent self.
Why is she so tired? Well, she's not sleeping at night because she keeps reliving her attack, for starters. A concerned fellow student offers her some pity drugs to help, but we'll get to that later.
As Silver watches Mr. Cannon's documentary, he fixes them up a spot of tea: he, some lovely English Breakfast and her, some Rufilin Rooibos. But just as Silver is about to sip the brew, she realizes that the voice-over in Cannon's film matches Naomi's weird tangent in the video capsule, and suddenly it clicks. Silver drops the tea and heads for the exit after some surprisingly impressive acting. She goes to talk to Naomi only to find her passed out from a nightcap of red wine and pills. The girl chat will have to wait.