Over at Worthington, Joey arrives late to class as Professor Flip-Flops is telling everyone to "knock back [their] Ritalin and settle down," like, ha ha, a Ritalin joke! So current! Not. A pan around the classroom shows the students reading what we know is Joey's email to Dawson, and tittering at her arrival. Yeah, because that would happen. As Joey slinks to her seat, Flip-Flops blithers on pretentiously about Portnoy's Complaint, saying that the class "won't be dabbling in Roth's stream-of-consciousness sexual rivers much longer," like, what does that even mean, Flip-Flops? No, really. What does that mean? Oh, it doesn't really "mean" anything? I see. Then you might want to look into shutting up. Flip-Flops eyes Joey as she passes him, and adds that fate assigned them some additional reading the night before "via email." Joey freezes for a second, then shrugs and continues unpacking her bookbag; Flip-Flops wonders aloud why they shouldn't focus on something the students actually might have read. He begins reading in a stentorian voice: "'Dear Daw-sun. I don't know where to begin.'" Joey, horrified, tries to interrupt him, but he rudely cuts her off by saying that "nobody likes a show-off," then needles her with the observation that she doesn't "reach a point for several paragraphs," so he'll just skip ahead. Heh. I hear that. Flip-Flops continues reading, with a great deal of ironic gesturing and snarky tone: "'In the moment when we touched, maybe we went somewhere else that rose above all this, but then we landed, and I think maybe we crashed.'" Flip-Flops makes a dismissive moue. The class laughs. Joey puts her hand over her mouth as Flip-Flops muses on the difficulty of writing about sex, despite the universality of the experience, and the difference between Roth's writing and Joey's, in which she "distances herself from the act with vague metaphors." Joey purses her lips, determined not to break down. Flip-Flops walks towards her seat and tells her, in a tone that's almost angry, that she "can't be stream-of-consciousness if [she's] observing from the shores. Right?" Joey doesn't meet his eyes or respond. "Right," Flip-Flops perks, and strides away. Shots of Joey's classmates laughing smugly at her as she makes melted-wax face.