Well, seeing as OTH jumps right from the credits into the episode this week, I'm assuming there's nothing from last week that we need to see. I think the lovely TPTB are giving us a break from reliving the angst-filled episodes of OTH past; perhaps we're starting off on a new foot this week.
So, the episode opens up with the camera panning over Nate's bachelor pad, complete with plasma screen TV, a fancy wall-hanging stereo that looks like it belongs on MTV's Cribs, and a mess of a table that includes strewn beer bottles and other party paraphernalia. Last but not least, we see a naked couple in his bed. Now, the boy's face is obscured, and the girl is absolutely not Haley, so it's a bit of relief when we see Nate wake up somewhere else wearing a white t-shirt. Hum, seems he spent the night at Haley's. A school night. In her bed. Without her parents noticing. Seems like the houses in Tree Hill are a) always open, thus proving the town more like Michael Moore's version of Canada than any American town and b) fully sound-proofed, because not only do parents not see anything, they also never hear anything. Anyway. Haley says, "I had the weirdest dream. There was this rapping at my window at four o'clock in the morning, followed by my boyfriend, who has his own apartment by the way, asking if he can crash in my room." She's brushing her hair. Haley's "Monica-ism" (read: strange, quirky characteristic that defines her personality) must be her early-bird rising. She puts the finishing touches on her hair and jokes, "Wait a second!" Nate says sleepily, "I had to get out of there." Haley: "Did I mention this is a recurring dream? What, isn't this the fourth time in two weeks?" Note the time reference. We don't get many of them. So, Nate's moved in, been there for a couple of weeks; we must be about ten days past the Date Night/Fright Night two days.
Haley's not satisfied just yet with her hair, so she picks her brush back up and does the other side: "Not that I'm complaining, but doesn't it defeat the purpose of having your own place?" Haley puts the brush down and wipes away some lip gloss as Nate says, "Tim keeps bringing over all these hot chicks. Which is a problem" -- pause for insertion of sugary sweetness -- "because none of them are you." Nate wiggles out from under the sheets, hopefully saving us all from a shot of his ahem, morning cannon, oh so common in the teenage years. Oh, wait, they're not really in bed, and Baby James only meets the teenage requirement by a year or two, right? Anyway. He says, "My place is, like, party central, and it's not even my party." Dude. I totally know what you mean. I lost my mom when I was fourteen. My dad worked nights and vacationed a lot, leaving my house wide open for such abuse. In fact, we didn't have furniture in the living room for years, making the house even more conducive to a party atmosphere. Ah, the fond memories of youth. So, Haley slides around to face Nate, and tells him they need to throw a "'Take Back The Party' party." Heh. He agrees, and they set the date for this Saturday. Nate continues, "We've got to plan it, though, and make sure it's pretty low-key, just a few friends, okay?" Of course! She claps her hands gleefully, stands up, and then says, "Now crawl back out the window before my parents hear you." Which they won't, because they must both be deaf or on the verge of becoming deaf, because they never hear anything. He says cutely, "Hear what?" He grabs her: "This?" She starts giggling and telling him not to tickle her, as he breathes his bad, after-party, not brushing his teeth before he comes over breath all over her freshly made up face.