Marissa looks kind of cute as she gets ready for school, although the shoulders of her orangy-tweed blazer skew slightly toward "linebacker." As she looks in the mirror, she realizes that her outfit exposes the ugly and painful-looking red mark on her chest. She panics, because in addition to being a loud memento of her ordeal with Trey, it also, like, totally clashes with the rest of her outfit. At that moment, Trey calls, begging her not to hang up; Marissa ignores him and ends the call after ordering him never to contact her again.
Cut to Trey's den of sin. He's brooding in the Atwood manner to which we've become accustomed, wondering why Ryan got the heart of gold and he's stuck with one of gold-plated tar. Jess the Drug Ho wanders out from the bedroom and jealously notes, "Guess she didn't want to chat." She then acts surprised to see Trey's head wound, asking, "What happened? Stable boy get fresh with the princess?" She must have been really coked out if she spent the night there -- and God knows how much other time since the last episode -- and never noticed that her sex toy was bleeding from the head. Maybe that's just the way she rolls. Trey wonders pointedly whether Jess has school that day. (I guess a few days have passed, at least; if the Cohens were in Miami for a weekend, which I think was the plan, then Trey and Marissa have done a bang-up job avoiding Ryan for the rest of the Spring Break week.) Jess puts the moves on Trey, but he jerks away. Jess purrs that it's a rare chick who not only lets him call another girl, but still wants to nail him again after he hangs up. I didn't realize she invented dysfunction. Hope she filed a patent. "You sure you're not taking me for granted?" she pants. Trey opens the door and levels her with "We both know what this is." Jess refuses to be down for the count, though, pointing out that they know two things for sure: that she isn't Marissa, and that -- and here, she touches his wound -- she "only leaves [her] marks on [his] back." Then she assaults Trey with her tongue and leaves.
As the intro to a very fine Shout Out Louds song plays, Seth sees Summer studying on one of the plush couches in the school's coffee shop, and plucks up the guts to plop down next to her. He starts to blurt out his transgression, but lo and behold, Summer already knows: "We do have cable." Ah, but apparently, since you didn't turn off the show before it got that far, you don't have taste. Seth prepares himself for her anger, but she is blasé about it, choosing to get up and refill her coffee rather than spew hot bile in public. Summer sighs ruefully that she thought things were going to be different this time. "But you haven't changed," she says. "You found new and even more public ways of disappointing me." Were he real, this is where Ross Geller -- a.k.a. Seth, in ten years -- would stand up and scream, "YOU WERE ON A BREAK!" Summer rides her high horse back over toward the couch, pausing only to hit Seth with the fact that she kissed Zach after she saw Seth licking Mary-Sue. "That's okay, you see me and you kissed Zach...what else happened?" Seth gulps. Summer shrugs, "Nothing...much." Oooh, evil. Seth is confused, which is what Summer wants him to be, and asks what that means. "I don't know," Summer says frankly, concluding, "It shouldn't be this hard." No, and Seth shouldn't take this from you, either. Seth has acted like a complete and utter assface, so believe me, I don't want to sympathize with him at ALL, but Summer has been so deluded and bratty and unsupportive that she is not in the least bit above reproach here. And yet, everyone acts like she is. What's in her perfume? I want some.