Original subtitles

Previously on "You Me Her"...

I don't know what you think you heard...

You mean the part about Izzy not being your niece

or the part about you guys paying her to have pervy

- three-way sex with you? - Wh... what? No.

We got some negotiating to do, don't we?

Aaaaaaaaah!

Weinstock is retiring as dean,

and he's recommending me as his replacement?

It won't be official until the Alumni Board approves it.

- The Alumni Board? - Sor... sorry?

Lori has just accepted a seat

on the prestigious Hamilton School Alumni Board.

Whatever. Izzy really digs you guys.

What? She likes us?

- She say that to you, or... - Shitheads, focus.

We're gonna do something other than sex.

We're gonna hang out together.

Maybe this is doable, the road less traveled,

the relationship more populated.

Why does it have to be scary?

This is you inviting me to move in?

I'm actually confused.

Did you think this was permanent?

You don't deserve me.

It's okay.

This doesn't change anything, Trakarskys.

Our arrangement continues, even if that one's over.

Honey, just let it go.

I'll scream.

You know, I'll... I'll tell my mom.

Oh, I dare you.

No, I double fuckin' dare you.

Go back inside and tell Mommy right now.

But know this, and know it real good.

You are gonna have two adults right across the street from you

spending every waking moment plotting your hideous ***,

and those adults know dozens and dozens of other adults,

many in the fields of higher education

and law enforcement. And here's the cherry

on the top of your shit sundae, little girl.

A lot of them would leap at the chance

to take down a smug, over-entitled Ava.

That's right. Your name will become the darkest of insults.

"Oh, my God. She is, like, such an Ava."

And while I've never played the game myself,

I hear soccer is so much easier to play with two healthy legs.

So you can narc us out, or you can sleep, little girl.

But I wouldn't recommend both.

Do you know what I mean?

- Yes? - Y... yes.

- Okay. - Yes, ma'am.

I'm glad we understand each other,

and don't call me ma'am, you little shit.

Let's go make a goddamn baby.

Go to bed, little girl.

Okay.

Shit.

I'm sorry, honey.

I mean I was totally feeling it,

and then I just wasn't.

It was a dumb idea.

Izzy peeled out of our lives like 10 minutes ago.

Was it a mistake?

What? The whole thing, or breaking up with Izzy?

Either way, I don't know.

I mean, maybe it was inevitable.

You know, maybe it never could've worked.

It's not what people do.

Is that a reason to not do something,

just because other people don't?

Honestly, yeah, I think maybe it is.

Yeah.

"Home Seekers."

Oh, my God. That sounds so good right now.

Doesn't it?

Fucking idiot!

Here we go again.

Oh, you look troubled, Iz.

I, uh...

I smoked everything in the house.

So 10 minutes earlier,

you would've caught me apple-bonging chamomile

and a dead house plant.

So it's over this time?

Like, for real?

Yeah.

Do you want to tell me about it?

Do I really have to?

No. The whole affair was a sprawling field of peril.

Doesn't really matter what IED you stepped on.

So are you sad?

Humiliated?

Angry?

Exhausted?

Humiliated, mostly.

I had an epiphany

while I was standing there in my pajamas

in the middle of suburbia

surrounded by normal families living normal lives.

They didn't feel the way that I felt.

They were bored, and I was just something different.

I almost got married when I was 18.

No way.

Très Appalachian, right?

Yeah. I was so in love

that I couldn't eat or sleep or breathe.

It just, like, sat right on my chest, you know?

Yeah, we even found this cute little hippie church in Sonoma.

What happened?

Well,

he *** that we were gonna escape

into our three-dimensional YA trilogy...

He told me that he should probably go

to this Brown University place.

Lame.

My bags were packed when he told me.

Yeah.

Yeah, I think back,

and I realized that he was just,

like, too hot, you know?

Truth.

You can't trust men with that much power.

Mmh-mnh.

No.

You know, when I want to for whatever sick reason

I can still feel what I felt then,

just like I'm dead inside,

you know?

So, um, Lee put an entire continent between us,

and I went full-on "Yellow Wallpaper."

I drove across the country

like that batshit astronaut chick,

minus the diapers 'cause that's sick.

But when he looked at me,

he just felt pity,

not love or the slightest bit of uncertainty...

just pity.

I knew, in 10 years,

that he would tell the story and get my name wrong.

I, um...

I got back in my car, and I just drove.

I never wanted to tell you that.

But it's part of who I am, and I... I knew that...

I knew that you could never really know me

if I didn't tell you.

I'm really glad you did.

Me too, surprisingly.

So what's the moral?

The moral is: it gets better.

It hurt a little less by the time I got home,

and a lot less

after I fucked Trey Larker into a coma.

Let me guess... Lee's friend?

Best friend.

So, what, I'm just supposed to

fuck all the Trakarskys' neighbors?

God, no, Izzy.

You're hopeless.

Just the ones they like.

You're awful.

Oh.

Ohh.

Did you know I was all-league in softball?

- No. - Uh-huh.

Okay.

That was a lie.

I'm just a small-boned woman standing in your bedroom

in the middle of the night with a baseball bat.

Lori found out.

No, I... I didn't tell. I swear.

Maybe, maybe not.

But I refuse to be the kind of woman

who doesn't follow through on her psychotic threats.

This might take a few tries.

No! No!

- Ava. - Oh, my God.

God. You're all sweaty.

Ew. You... You weren't just...

No, Mom. What do you...

- What do you want? - Well, call me crazy...

You're whatever's after crazy.

... But this whole "niece that fell from the sky" issue

continues to bother me.

Do you ever wonder if you're blinded

by unhealthy vindictiveness

for all the times the cool kids left you out?

Hmm?

That you're overstepping the call of duty,

and maybe it's time you just let it go?

Um...

okay.

That was both impressive and emotionally eviscerating.

Quite the wake up call.

And I promise to turn my scrutiny inwards.

Right after you find Jacqueline Isabelle's last name

and any social-networking site or something

that proves her and Jack's big sister

couldn't pick each other out of a line-up,

let alone share DNA.

Okay?

So you're pressing snooze on my wake-up call?

Just do it for me, please,

for the woman who willed your abnormally large head

out of her vagina.

- God, gross. - And it'll all be over,

and I will make nice with the neighbors.

Mm.

What if the world deems us unworthy of procreating?

What then?

What?

Where's this coming from?

Then we'll find another program

or... or we'll adopt, or both.

Okay.

Yeah, and then... I mean, and long after our children

find us either too embarrassing

or too irritating to hang out with anymore,

and long after Izzy has moved on with another guy

and another family,

this story will still be about you and me,

Em, okay?

Always was, always will be.

- That's still a great line. - It's good, right?

Yeah. That is a very good line.

And we're back.

- Did you hear that? - I didn't hear anything.

Me neither.

Do you think it might be Izzy, or...

Okay.

Move. We got to talk.

Having trouble sleeping?

No, no, having trouble with Lori.

It's past midnight. What... what troubles?

Lori has assigned me to use the interwebs

to find out whether Izzy is or isn't your niece.

- Shit. - She knows I can do it.

I can do it.

Okay. So why aren't you?

It's an opportunity to shut her down permanently.

All we need is to see Izzy, you, and your sister

together in a picture.

Oh, no. That's impossible.

That picture doesn't exist.

Which is why you're here.

There you go.

I get it.

First, we catfish a page under Jacqueline Isabelle,

uh, whatever your sister's last name is.

- Deering. - Deering.

Okay.

- And Izzy? - Uh, Silva.

Okay.

I already started an account.

I just have to lift some images from Izzy.

Bam. Done.

Jacqueline Isabelle Deering now exists.

Wow, just... just like that?

Just like that.

- Wow. - Weird.

I can't find a home page for Jack Trakarsky.

- I don't have a page. - Yeah, me neither.

Never... never really saw the point.

What?

I have some pictures on my phone I could text you.

Send them to me right now.

Why are you helping us?

Gee, Emma,

I don't know.

Maybe because you're a homicidal psychopath.

- Yeah, she is. - No, stop.

And I'd like to sleep at some point

in the not-too-distant future.

- Text the picture, Jack. - I'm trying.

I just want to put this thing behind me.

Ava, I'm sorry.

I hope you know that I would never...

You never what?

She would never really want to go back to prison

for hurting people.

She's very dangerous, this one.

Yep.

Whatever.

Hey, Neen.

Mm-hmm?

I'm gonna go home.

You are home.

No, like, home home.

As in Colorado.

Yeah, whatever happened to click, bam?

I'm not exactly a Photoshop wizard.

Click, bam, bitches.

- There you go. - It's done?

Oh, yeah. It's done.

See, look.

Ah, what do you think?

The bitches are not impressed.

Really?

Well, I think it works.

Like, there's you.

There's your sister. And there's Izzy.

And she's standing behind, like, on a box or something.

Yeah, because people do that a lot in candid photos.

She's fuckin' enormous.

I mean, do you have no idea about proportion?

I think it's pretty good, so...

Oh, my God.

It's a generational thing, honey.

I see it all the time at school.

I mean, kids these days, they take a shit,

and they think it's art.

I mean, we see the picture as is, as it really is.

She sees something totally different.

It's like a millennial ocular ego filter,

a MOEF.

Yeah, but, Jack, that is so bad. That is so bad.

It looks like Izzy's the dead sister

who keeps showing up in family photos.

Do you actually think this is good?

You think Lori's gonna buy this?

- Absolutely, yes. - This is fascinating.

What are we going to do?

This is an emergency, honey.

We need to call a professional.

I'm awesome.

You're really not gonna help me?

Nope.

You're acting like a child.

Uh, am I the one running home to my mom?

It's the middle of the semester.

Whatever, like I should ever counsel other human beings.

And more importantly, it's Halloween.

You and I were supposed to be those freaky little twins

from "The Shining," except way sluttier.

It doesn't work as a solo act.

You're wearing pigtails, Mary Janes,

and a toddler's dress that shows your cooch.

I think it'll work.

Just... come on, Iz.

You can leave tomorrow, okay?

I'll get you wasted.

We can profess our drunk sisterly love to one another.

You'll decide to stay, and then we'll just find you,

like, a perfectly good shrink right here in Portland.

Do you want this?

No.

I bought a ticket online

for a flight that leaves tomorrow night,

which is technically tonight,

and I have to be on it.

Why would you do that?

- Nina. - Don't.

Oh, my gosh.

Super mature.

Nina, come on, man.

These last six days,

Andy,

a staggering amount of THC and alcohol,

the Trakarskys,

a fucking "C" on a lame-ass philosophy midterm.

I mean, these are all just symptoms

of way bigger shit that I have to work out.

Nina, will you please look at me?

No.

Well, you're in a swivel chair, so...

Stop it.

Get your hands out of your face.

Unh-unh.

Nina, stop it.

I had sex with a married couple,

and I fell in love with them in, like, a matter of days.

And then I went to their house in my pajamas

with a bag full of drugs and a karaoke machine.

So? People do that all the time.

No, they don't.

Yes, they do.

They really don't.

It's fucked up.

Yeah.

I just...

I just need to get back to the source, you know?

Get things right with my mom.

Shit, maybe even with my dad.

Can you understand that?

We have the whole day together.

And you need to help me pack

because half of this stuff is yours, okay?

And then... and then you can just...

you can pour me onto the plane

and make your entrance to the party

fetishitically late.

Okay?

Okay. So when are you coming back?

Like, after the break, or Thanksgiving?

Izzy.

Okay, let me rephrase and speak more slowly.

How long are you staying in Colorado?

Um...

It's a one-way ticket.

I just... I need to stay away for a while.

Away from what?

Jack and Emma.

You want to prove that girl

is the Trakarskys' sexual plaything,

publicly ostracize them,

and destroy Jack's career in retaliation

for keeping us on the outside of their inner circle.

Sound about right?

It does. It really does.

You get me. You always have.

And you don't see how it's shit just like this

that put us on the outside in the first place?

Go wake up Ava,

get her to do your cyber-sleuthing right now,

don't take no for an answer.

You really think that's okay?

Actually, love of my life, I think it's fucked up,

just not enough to lose sleep over.

Good night, handsome.

This is like a waking nightmare.

I know the timing's a little bit wonky

since it's only been a few hours

since you reiterated your self-righteous disapproval.

Okay, if you're gonna keep making me sound like a dick,

I'm not gonna help you fix this abomination.

I'm sorry. There's a lot of judgment

coming out of that mouth hole these days.

Oh, you're getting a lot of judgment right now?

It's 3:00 in the morning, and you woke me out of bed

to fix your Photoshop mistakes.

I... I know we've been joking about it, but it's really

- starting to piss me off, okay? - Oh, is it?

There's a lot of people I could've called up.

Oh, yeah? You got other friends that you can call in this sort of situation?

- Well, get the phone book out. - I...

- You got the phone book? - Well, there's...

Where's the phone book with all the people call you can

that can do this? Call them.

There. You... you want me to dial for you?

Okay, Jack meant to say thank you.

Thank you.

I do appreciate it. I'm sorry.

I do appreciate you coming over here.

And this is your area of expertise,

so, and, we just need to clean up this mess.

Oh, you're thinking a little Photoshop's

gonna clean up this mess? You kidding me?

You need an entire industrial-strength vat

of Purell, just dump it down the street.

Maybe that'll clean it up. No offense

if it sounds like I'm judging you,

but I'm just saying.

This whole thing is a mess. Talk about a mess.

I'd like to never hear about this mess ever again.

That'd be nice.

Just like to have everybody just move on.

And it's the last I want to hear

about this mess of yours, all right?

We're moving on. You included.

Absolutely. No doubt.

Oh, geez. It's like I...

I'm seeing it again for the first time.

- Yeah, that's a problem. - It's like a runaway Smurf.

- Oh, my God. - It's like...

And look at the background, too.

I could've drawn something better.

Yeah, with just pen... with ink.

I mean, it looks like the weirdest memorial ever.

God, this is like a nightmare. It's like...

it's like an art class gone wrong.

Like, the edges are jagged.

No one is ever gonna buy this. It's...

- Why are they purple? - I don't know.

It looks like Satan's Christmas card.

Ha-ha. Very funny.

You assholes.

If you would have just been a little nicer to my mother,

we wouldn't even be here right now.

You are the Avas of this neighborhood.

Yeah.

We love your mother, by the way.

- We love your mom. - We're sorry.

- We didn't... - Yeah, we...

You got to start somewhere.

We like you and your mother and your artwork.

You did great on the social-media stuff.

- Yeah, that stuff... - You did a really good job.

I love the jean jacket.

No one... You don't see that anymore.

Art school for...

It's like they're in front of the Taj Mahal.

- That's fun. - That would be a good idea.

- Yeah, you would get... - Did really well.

If you need a reference...

Yeah.

You can all just stop blowing me, people.

You know, I was just trying...

- Shit. - Shit?

What does shit mean? What shit?

Shit. Lori just texted me.

She knows you're gone?

Et voil�.

- Wow. - Aw.

- Oh, my God, that's great. - You really are an artist.

The word is literally in my job description.

Oh, artist, thank you.

Dave, you're so wonderful.

- Yours was good, too. - Look. I am going to say

that I was just on the front porch

getting the information she wanted,

- right? - Yeah.

- Yeah, that's not gonna work. - What?

Lori is on the front porch texting, I believe.

Oh, my God.

Okay, she is the last person

that can be seen leaving our house at 3:00 a.m.

Tell me about it. The polygamy house.

- You know, enough, okay? - I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

- Come on, it's a long night. - All right.

All right. I got it.

Emma, we need a half-empty bottle

- of wine, stat. - I can do that.

Good. I'll have a shot of tequila.

Uh, no, you won't.

- This isn't a party. - Okay.

This is how it's gonna go.

- Dave and I had a fight. - Yeah.

Emma and I were talking, but she passed out.

So I'm an asshole.

And I'm a drunk. Go... Go on.

And I go out, spot Lori, and decide to confide in her,

invite her, finally, into the inner sanctum.

- That's actually brilliant. - Yeah.

Where was I when I wasn't in my room?

Studying?

Hooking up with some teenaged dude.

Under the shirt, over the bra.

Yeah.

It's a good idea.

It's a great idea, and I love you.

Love you too. Mm.

- Go get her. - I don't want to go now.

- Okay, hold this. - Okay.

Careful, you know, breast milk. Remember that.

- Right? - It's an hour to go through.

Okay. Okay.

Ava, go out the back door, okay,

and then circle around the Wilbergs' house.

That's the easiest way back.

Yeah. Jack, not my first rodeo.

Thank you.

Just saying, I'd...

Okay.

Yeah.

There goes my girl.

You know, she's all the woman I'll ever need.

- Seriously? - Just saying.

It'll be fun, though, right?

We'll do a big, sloppy hug-and-cry thing.

You'll come to Denver for Thanksgiving,

cop all my mom's drugs.

Nina?

Neen?

Doesn't matter what I say, does it?

I'm leaving you just like that douchebag did.

Mm. Don't worry.

I'll just fuck Andy till I feel better.

I know, sweetie.

Hi.

Hi.

Come. Mm-hmm.

Don't go.

It's Ava.

It worked.

Oh, my God. It all worked.

Shit, I got to get to work.

You got to get to work.

Come on.

- Get the fuck to work. - Okay.

What is it? Something happen?

It's about the position.

We need to have a talk.

Uh...