Sarah McLachlan: "I gotta hand it to you, lady."
Next day, Paige texts Emily a misspelled invitation to a "picinic," which she plays off long enough to distract Aria with meaningless questions about Mr. Fitz. Why is she avoiding him, and his unending phone calls this Saturday morning? Well, because of that time we blew up that girl. I can feel secrets welling up in me, and even as the Almighty Shusher I do not know if I can Shush myself this time.
Emily: "If you love him, you should tell him about how we blew up that girl that time. If you trust him, I trust him. The Emily Fields Savings & Trust is insured by the FDIC to the amount of infinity."
Aria: "Life really is this simple for you, isn't it?"
Emily: "Let me show you pictures of the cat I bought last night and you tell me."
Spencer and Toby wake up, and he is just a kitten in the mornings, but the sweetness is undercut by the smoky coffee taste of Creepy Flautist next door. They throw on no clothes whatsoever and run to 214, where Jenna's self-pressed CD of creepy flute music, Songs in the Key of 1,000 Corpses is playing all by itself. On the bed is the mysterious shopping bag, once empty and now containing a visual pun: Ice from the ice machine and a note from A that says, "Getting colder!" or some such. Even Spencer is like, "What the fuck was the point of this whole thing?" Toby wonders who A is, and Spencer tells him to forget it.
Paige and Emily on their picinic, listening to Passion Pit and getting their dream-date hand-holding on. Emily suggests they go see the band in Philly next month, and Paige says that she can't do that, or anything else, because if she gets outed the world will end, because being gay is gross. Emily begs her pardon and breaks up with her immediately, because nobody can walk you backwards into shame without your permission. Paige is bummed, but at least you don't hear that ice-tinkle sound of her going even crazier. Well done, Fields. As usual.
Aria shows up at Ezra's house and says the most comforting thing: "I don't want to tell you something, but I'm going to, and then you will hate me." Ezra assures her this is not the case, but privately wonders whether he might end up hating her, despite the fact that she has just insured that he can't without proving her right. The only thing I hate more than "we have to talk" is "don't be mad": Either way, you're setting the stage in a way that removes any and all options for the other person. Their eyes water aggressively at each other. Aria is an emotional blackmailer.