In the hallway, she catches up to Grace and Adam and asks if they're going to chemistry. Grace asks, "Do you have Multiple Personality Disorder? Is that what this is?" Joan doesn't know what Grace is talking about; Grace insists she does. Joan figures it's about her trying out for the cheerleading team: "Big deal." Grace says, "Sell out as hard as you can, I don't care. Just don't expect to go mainstream and hang out in the backwater." Joan: "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize I had to run my life according to your social code." Adam asks, in a very pleasant, fairly neutral way, "You're trying out to be a cheerleader?" One of the many things I like about Adam is that he's able to be friends and hang out with two girls with such strong personalities, and just be comfortable and quiet in their presence. Unlike most teenage boys I knew, even the shyest, quietest ones, he's not too threatened by them, and he doesn't have to dominate the conversation or contribute some remark to every single line of discussion just to get attention or remind everybody he's there. He's patient with them, and content to be in their company, and not in that "no one else will have me" kind of way. If Joan doesn't see how great he is soon, my head might explode. Okay, as long as she figures it out sometime this season, I can probably live with it. Don't make me come to Hollywood and start kicking ass. I hate to fly, and I've got all kinds of other crap to do. Anyway, at this point some frumpy substitute asks where a particular classroom is, and Grace directs her. She and Adam walk off, and Frumpy Teacher says, "Thank you, young man!" Joan remains, and Frumpy Teacher, who's carrying Styrofoam models of the universe and a molecule (do subs have to bring their own visual aids? I guess so; it seems, in these days of gutted public education funding, teachers and students and parents have to provide things that used to be standard issue, like textbooks and desks), says to Joan, "Don't skip chemistry." You know, I think if nothing else, Joan might end up really paranoid as a result of all this divine intervention. It's making me paranoid, and God ain't said squat to me lately. And frankly, I could use some guidance on what colour to paint my new living room. Yes, I'm still struggling with it! It's a different house. Same weird-coloured furniture, though. How I rue the day I picked that colour for the furniture. Oh, and I probably have some more important stuff God could weigh in on, too: conversion issues, apostasy, free will vs. predetermination, the afterlife, et cetera. Still, it's the paint that's driving me really nuts.
At the police station, Will confronts DA Fellowes, who's talking to a detective: "We haven't even found the girl, and you've laid attempted murder charges?" Fellowes says he has to take a stand: "In this town, justice reacts swiftly when a child's life is in danger." Will says the mother is very likely a child herself, and reminds Fellowes that he (Fellowes) was a huge supporter of the safe haven law, which was supposed to protect the kind of person who did this. Fellowes says the law was meant to protect the baby, not the mother. Guh? That's not my understanding. I thought it was for both of them. Fellowes pontificates about how they've given these women a chance to abandon their babies safely, and if they still insist on leaving them to die, well, he apparently has no quarter whatsoever for them. Will points out she called 911. Fellowes: "That's the difference between you and me, Will. I don't have sympathy for a baby killer. I don't think a jury will either." Will reminds him that the baby isn't dead. Man, I hope somebody punches this smug bastard DA in the breadbasket soon. Fellowes says: "Look at it this way: the girls at Arcadia High School who didn't know about the safe haven law before...they sure as hell know about it now. You should be behind this. Your daughter attends Arcadia High, doesn't she?"