At the Ryan Home, Grams "On The Verge" Ryan snips at Jen that she didn't know she needed Jen's permission to sell her own house. Jen snips back that, since Grams is "basically doing this for" Jen in the first place, perhaps she should have "some say in the matter." And what makes Jen think she's doing it for her? Jen snorts in disbelief and tells Grams to look her in the eye and tell her that it's not about sending Jen to college. Grams refuses to look her in the eye but does admit that yes, money from the house "will primarily go towards" Jen's tuition -- but it's not the only reason. Huh? Okay, Jen hates her parents, but they have more money than God. Wouldn't they pay for her schooling, if only to buy her silence? It doesn't make sense. Oh, why do I bother. Jen smirks tolerantly and tells Grams to "by all means enlighten" her. Grams explains with a hint of impatience that Jen's "moving on to the next phase" of her life, and Grams herself needs to "do the same," so she's decided to move to La Brea Park. Jen's all, "Who in the what, now? That's a retirement community." Grams purses her lips and shakes her head as Jen rambles on about lawn bowling and Metamucil (heh) and says that Grams is "far too young and far too hip to be living in a place like that." Yeah, seriously. Grams PSAs that just because it's a retirement community doesn't mean that it's bad, and accuses Jen of ageism, so Jen backtracks and splutters that she's not ageist, and she wants to see "this fabulous Park of yours." Grams shoots her a knowing look.
IHOF. Dawson lurks in, yearbook in hand. Behind the bar, Gretchen futzes with pint glasses. Mmm pints. Dawson waits for her to notice him, and when she does, she freezes, then forces out a half-scared, half-happy "hey, you." Dawson stares at her all stalkery: "Hey." Awkward pause. Dawson puts the yearbook on the bar, saying he thought she might want to sign it, and Gretchen looks at it all "oh, high school, how quaint." Shut up, Gretchen. Dawson adds passive-aggressively, "Before you leave town." Gretchen, busted: "Well, you're nothing if not direct." I wouldn't call what Dawson said "direct" at all, actually. "Gretchen, my mom told me that you planned to bolt without saying goodbye, and that sucks and hurts my feelings"? That's direct. Now Dawson makes with the direct, though, asking if she'd really had it in mind to "just slip out of town" without telling him, and Gretchen admits that she "was thinking about it, yeah, maybe," and Dawson gets all snitty and snatches the yearbook back and tells her to forget he even stopped by, then, and he puts his thumb in his mouth and prepares to toddle off. Gretchen, tears in her voice: "Or maybe I was thinking about how to say goodbye to you all week." Dawson stops, reluctantly, and fixes her with an unforgiving stare before relenting: "So where you goin'?" Back to school; she can make up some credits in summer session. When do classes start? Not for a month, but Gretchen wants to take a road trip while she still has the time. "Sounds like fun." Awkward pause. Lovelorn Guitar Of Regret. Gretchen leaps into the breach by announcing that she leaves day after next. Dawson stammers, "You do that soon?" "I know." "That's really soon -- I feel ill-prepared," Dawson grumps, throwing in a nostril mini-flare for emphasis. Gretchen jokes that Dawson has a whole day and a half to come up with a "fantastic going-away speech" for her, but Dawson takes her seriously: "All right." Gretchen's smile turns sad as she adds that she "would like to sign" his yearbook. Dawson sighs and hands over the 2001 Tricorn. Heh. "Corn." Gretchen fondles the edge and asks if she can "have some time with it." Dawson says sure, as long as she knows that, the longer she has it, "the less acceptable 'have a bitchin' summer' is gonna be." Snerk. "Okay." Awkward pause. Staring. Heartbroken, Ironic Piano. "Okay." More staring. Dawson finally walks out.