Doug is considerably later than that -- so late, in fact, that a dressed-to-impress Laurie is scraping the plates from her romantic dinner a un into the trash. He is also very uncomfortable: "Laurie, I shouldn't be here right now." She rebuts, "I thought you wanted to talk." Teacher Doug says, "You're right ... look, about what happened in the library last week, that was just --" "Just a kiss," Laurie jumps in, eager to appear mature to Teacher Doug and willing to say anything if it will move things along. She adds, "It's not that big a deal," and Teacher Doug says, "No, it was a very big deal. I'm your teacher." "Only for two more weeks," Laurie says slowly. Teacher Dough can only stammer, "If I did anything to, well, you know, uh, lead you to think that ... that, I just want to say I'm sorry. I should apologize." Laurie hastens to reassure Teacher Doug that he didn't lead her on: "We were alone, surrounded by books, and Dylan was playing." If that's what does it for her, college is going to be one long, amorous romp. Teacher Doug then continues his boundary-setting work with, "I like you. Laurie. I do, I really do. You're smart, you're funny, I value your input in class, but this -- this can't happen." Except ... it sort of does, because Laurie turns the conversation to PBS's film noir week, Teacher Doug doesn't have a TV, and boy, there is nothing at all amiss or contradictory than Teacher "We Need To Not Do This" Doug snuggling down on the couch with Laurie to finish watching Double Indemnity. This bad decision may have repercussions, as Logan has pulled his head out of the cannabis cloud long enough to get the bright idea to spy on Laurie, and he's taken note that she's hanging with Teacher Doug.
As for BJ and Ricky -- the kids Laurie's supposed to be watching, remember? -- Sam shows them how to hop into the Deckers' place and they hold an all-night pool party. Ricky gets wasted and passes out on one of the lounge chairs. Sam and BJ have a cute little flirting-in-the-pool moment and then we get all The Children, Who Will Think of the Children? with her weary instruction to turn the inebriated Ricky on his stomach so he won't choke on his own vomit in his sleep. She adds, "Most girls get advice on boys and makeup from their moms. Mine tells me how not to puke in my sleep." Missy, don't go running down that advice. If Mama Joplin had passed it on, we'd be looking at a different musical landscape today. And then more The Children, Who Will Think of the Children? as Sam darkly alludes to the debaucherous parties the Deckers hold. BJ says, "My parents are with them this weekend. I can't imagine them doing anything weird -- they're like the definition of 'normal.'" Sam replies, "Everything's normal on the outside." And you know what? I think we all get it: suburbia contains a heart of darkness. Whatever. So long as that heart of darkness doesn't include Mr. Kurtz on the corner lot killing the kid who tries to mow his lawn, it's not as bad as your average 14-year-old thinks.