Later that night, presumably ten o'clock, Angela is making herself a sandwich in the kitchen. She inspects the lunch meat. That's not a double entendre; she really is inspecting lunch meat. Speaking of lunch meat, a strange shadowy figure that we do not doubt for a second is Jordan knocks on the window, and then circles around to the back door. Angela peeks through the window-shade, and the music changes from Trepidatious-Snuffy-Walden to Happy-Snuffy-Walden. Angela looks nervously back over her shoulder, and then opens the door for her boyfriend. "Hey." "Hey." AVO: "It's a dream. I'm having a dream. I've had this dream. Only...without the cold cuts." Jordan's all, "Wow. Food." He goes to eat the lunch meat. Again, really. Angela's all, "What are you doing here? It's late. My parents are right upstairs." Jordan is mystified until Angela points out that her parents live here. Jordan, who is a better observer than we realized, says, "I thought you said you wanted to do it in your room while your parents were asleep." Angela points out that she was joking, evinced by the aforementioned giggle-whisper thing she did when she said it, and tells him he has to go. Jordan says okay, and starts to kiss her. During which time, it seems, Jordan formulates his next strategy for getting into Angela's pants. "So you know that empty house on Cloverdale?" But there's no time for him to flesh out, as it were, his plan, because a noise in the house indicates approaching parental units. When the noise does not repeat, he continues, more quietly: "Tino found a way to get in. So people have been going there. You know, to have a place. To go. So you want to? Friday night?" She looks at least exasperated at his persistence, and tries to deflect him by appealing to his respect for the law. "You mean, breaking and entering?" Jordan retorts with double entendre that has to be accidental, because he's not that clever: "Just...entering." Then he proves that he was not being clever by adding, "So that we can...be somewhere." Angela says, "Awkward pause." Then Patty yells, "Angela?" Alarmed, Angela yells, "Mom?" Jordan eats lunch meat.
Angela sprints to the bottom of the steps to intercept Patty before she can get near the kitchen. Patty, thinking she's all smart, says, "Didn't I predict this? Didn't I predict that this would happen? Didn't I tell you that you'd be hungry later?" Angela's all, "Oh. Yeah. Right." She's so flushed and nervous, though, that it's amazing Patty doesn't get any more suspicious; I guess she's too self-satisfied at having caught Angela eating cold cuts. "Now, I'm not trying to interfere, but I think it's important that we all eat dinner together. As a family." Angela agrees. "Finish whatever you're nibbling on in there, and don't leave a mess for me to clean up." Meanwhile, the thing Angela's been nibbling on wanders out of the kitchen and into the entrance hall, peering at Angela and Patty from out of view. Just in time, Patty remarks, "Oh, also, remember what we talked about tonight, about meeting your friend Jordan." Jordan is illiterate, but not deaf, and perks up at the mention of his name. Angela's mortified. "Sweety, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. You like this Jordan. I have no problem with that. We just wanna meet him!" Patty hugs her humiliated daughter and goes upstairs. Angela heads back over to Jordan, who gets all smug: "So, you like me?" Angela tells him to shut up, but in a nice way. "Your mother says you like me." She tells to shut up again, and shoves him, but in a nice way. "Friday night?" he says, staying on course. "Right. The house." She says this with a kind of weary wisdom, like she knows he won't be swayed, and she knows she won't give in, and she knows that'll be the end of them. "There are, like, eight bedrooms," he says, like they're buying the house and this is a selling point. "That many," she says, unimpressed. If he notices her evident annoyance, he pretends not to, and smooches her farewell. They kiss well together, by the way. Jordan leaves. Angela sighs, contentedly, and then looks apprehensive. Which will happen again, in reverse order, if she ever actually...ums.