Miami is beautiful, and aren't skate parks cool? Sarah skates happily along the beach, doing jumps, making friends, and enjoying herself. "I dig movement. I dig motion. I like trying new things." More shots of people skating and doing jumps on ramps follow. Now, meet Jason and Louis, good people that run a skate shop. In a sit-down, Sarah explains, "I don't care about Lamborghinis and getting taken out to dinner. I used to, but I don't anymore." So, Sarah has evolved past worshipping fancy sports cars -- great. If only a nation of forty-ish men could follow suit. Now a bunch of skater boys (to me, eye candy in baggy jeans and hoodies) troop through the house with Sarah, lugging sheets of wood and tools. They build a skate ramp by the pool, in the windy night. Inside, Melissa and (Hail!) Cesar roll their eyes and express disgust at all the activity. In a sit-down, Melissa explains that Sarah has been working her nerves and has been "bringing a gabillion people over and not keeping an eye on them." I hate made-up numbers so fucking much. Just say "lots" or something. A character in Candace Bushnell's new book does that habitually, and it makes you hate the character. So Melissa? Step off the gabillion thing. Then Melissa complains about the ramp-building, which she claims was done with "stolen wood from the street." Ooh, outlaw wood liberators. Ramp-building renegades. What ribald scoff-law-er-ry. Melissa complains some more about how Sarah "didn't ask permission" and I gag. Mom? Is that you? I hear your voice, but you're not there! Granted, it is totally nighttime as Sarah and her tasty skater crew are banging and power-tooling away at the ramp-to-be, and Melissa doesn't forget to point out that they have neighbors. Neighbors who were no doubt paid to stay the hell away from the MTV "project" going on 24-7 for a few months. The neighbors probably though MTV was building a set for a spring-break stripping game show or something. Sarah gets huffy in a sit-down (not for the last time this episode), and says, "Just because I'm using tools, and a hammer, and my BRAIN doesn't mean I have to ask permission." Rebel ramp builder! She kisses no one's ass.
Another beautiful day in Miami. Cynthia sits outside, the wind whipping her hair as she talks about missing home: "I miss the brothers hanging out on the corner, the loud cars. It used to agitate me, now I'd love to see it." Dude, I know the feeling. I have such a love/hate relationship with Philly. But this friggin' dump is home to me, and everywhere I go just reminds me of that. Oh my god, am I going to die here? I have to get out! Anyway, some early morning, stormy rain clouds come, and -- boom boom -- thunder and lightning. Melissa and Cynthia lie in their beds, talking. Cynthia slowly tells a makeup-less Melissa about her losses in life: both her father and sister died in the same year, her father of lung cancer and her sister of hepatitis, contracted through a blood transfusion. Shit! Pretty heavy stuff. Cynthia says she hasn't been back to the cemetery since they died. "It's really hard to see. I can't do it." She wipes her eyes and says, "You really need to appreciate the people when they're here." This is so sad. Hold on, I have to go call my mom.