Doorbell. Kirsten answers, and Caleb charges in, going on about "corporate espionage" and how he could fire or sue her for breach of confidentiality. Kirsten points out that he was extorting the county and putting the company at huge risk -- sooner or later it was going to come out. He insists that she could have showed him what she'd found, and she argues that he could have showed her when it first started. Kirsten apologizes, but she didn't see any other way. Caleb bellows, "It was dishonest! Calculating! And ruthless! Kiki, we just might make a real-estate mogul out of you yet." She's surprised, and sarcastically kids that it's something to look forward to. He grunts, and then notices her Christmas tree, adorned with her mother's ornaments. She softens, saying there might be a gift under there for him...maybe.
Sandy bounds into the house just as Ryan is heading out. Sandy asks where he's going, because he was thinking about getting a movie. Ryan explains that Marissa begins therapy this morning, and Sandy commiserates that she's going through a lot. When Ryan adds that he thought he'd go with her, Sandy agrees, "Yeah, you could." He then adds, "Or, uh, not." He says that Marissa has a lot of stuff to figure out by herself, and that Ryan should let her. He softly adds, "You're here with us now. You don't have to be the parent anymore." Aw. Aw! Ryan repeats, "Movie, huh?" and Sandy confirms, insisting that it's his pick, though. As they walk off together, Sandy rambles on about how "the selection of a movie is something of an art." What a nice scene!
Marissa and her expensive purse walk through a doorway looking nervous. By that, I mean that Marissa looks nervous, not the purse. Although I suppose the purse is probably just as capable of conveying "nervous" as Mischa Barton is. A high-school-aged student (in this particular universe anyway) checks her out, and then returns to reading his book. Quirky music plays as Marissa flips through a magazine, looks at her watch, puts the magazine down, rubs her upper thighs like my creepy sixth-grade teacher, and then grabs her coat,and gets up to leave. The guy -- who we'll find out is Dickensianly named, "Oliver Trask" -- volunteers that he came for therapy three times before he actually walked through that door. He knows her -- she goes to Harbor, right? He identifies her as "the girl at school who organizes things, right?" She reseats herself and snippily explains, "Social chair." When she asks if he goes to Harbor, he reveals that he goes to Pacific and introduces himself. He smirks that, considering she's a social chair, she isn't very social at all in his view, and jokes that he should talk to someone about a recall. She points out that they're in a psychiatrist's office, so it's kind of embarrassing, and he agrees that she's right, makes a series of quirky facial expressions, and smarms, "So let's address the obvious and move on: what's wrong with you?" She stares at him, and he leans forward to enunciate, "What. Is wrong. With you." She responds that if she knew, she wouldn't be there. He considers her and announces, "You're not an alcoholic, yet. You ODed at least once. Pills, I'd say. Muscle relaxants, definitely." He looks hopeful as she reveals, "Painkillers." He deduces that she didn't really want to hurt herself and, "Kurt Cobain? Yeah, he wanted to hurt himself." Throughout this scene, Oliver Trask is distractingly sweaty-lipped. It's like they employ a makeup person solely for attending to the creation of realistic lip sweat. When Marissa snits that going to therapy wasn’t her idea, Oliver Trask agrees that it might not have been, but that she wouldn't be there if she didn't want to be. He metas, "You wanna know why you are the way you are." As the previous patient emerges from the office, he points to Marissa and explains that he's "waiting on the next door." As she heads inside, Oliver returns to his book, pledging to see her next week.