ILY, everyone. Life couldn't be better for Ja'mie right now. Her and Mitchell are pretty much together 24/7: tetherballing, skyping and selfie-ing, waxing each other, y'know, the usual. And while she lies on top of a silent Kwame listing what it is that she loves about Mitchell: the way his nose turns up like a little piggy's at the end, but in a quiche way, and his thighs. Ughhhh, his thighs! The other day he was wearing these short shorts, and... Just when we're about to get to the good stuff, Daddy interrupts to demand that Kwame return to his room and Ja'mie do something productive like homework. And that delightful little scene that is buttoned expertly by calling dad a bastard, but no offense, and commanding Kwame to get on Skype from 15 feet away so she can "read to him." It doesn't matter. Life is so great for Ja'mie right now even if Daddy won't let her spoon with the povo black kid on a school night and list all the body parts about her golden god boyfriend that delight her the most. Until tomorrow when tragedy strikes.
Not even Pearl Harbor, 9/11, Chernobyl, or the Challenger to hold a candle to what happens next, and Ja'mie might kill herself, you guys. Seriously. While all the prefects wait with bated breath to hear what could be so awful, and we wonder why we didn't get to witness the tragedy in scene, instead of having it re-enacted to us and the prefects, the event is revealed: a fart. Ja'mie farted in front of Mitchell, and of course the prefects ask what we all are wondering ourselves, what did it sound like? Ja'mie resists initially, but ultimately re-creates the sound with her mouth, simultaneously insisting that it's so random because she never farts. Then, of course, an invisible Courtney pipes up to argue to the contrary and that she can hear Ja'mie farting through the wall at night, to which Ja'mie responds with the only appropriate comment in a moment of such shame, "I wish I drowned you as a child." Though the events leave us all wondering what kind of detrimental effect this could have on Ja'mie and Mitchell's relationship.
We don't have to wait long, though, because in the beginning of the next class, one of Ja'mie's prefect drones burst in with urgent news from the facebook front lines: Mitchell has updated his status to "hanging out with Madison Cartwright, the best way to spend a free period." Then upon further investigation, it is discovered that he's now suddenly single. The prefects immediately excuse themselves from class to find Madison and slap the s*** out of her.
Outside, Ja'mie demands to hear what the hell happened. Mitchell is her boyfriend! As Madison, a hotter, more cool and collected version of her reveals, Mitchell never thought they were exclusive, and they never even had sex because every time Mitchell tried, Ja'mie got weird. And plus, Ja'mie isn't even as quiche as she thinks she is. This obviously begs the questions that Ja'mie sob-screams: is it because I'm fat?? And the confrontation descends into a West Side Story-esque brawl among the private school recycling bins.
The logical next step is to confront Mitchell himself. And as he strides casually toward a broken Ja'mie, only three sentences are spoken:Ja'mie: Did you kiss Madison?Mitchell: Yeah. I didn't think we were exclusive. (uncomfortable silence)Ja'mie: Is it because I'm fat?Mitchell: No...But poor Ja'mie is shattered and runs sobbing into the bosom of the prefects.
Meanwhile, the dance solo is upon Ja'mie, and the timing couldn't be worse. So much hinges on this dance solo for Ja'mie: her Uni future, her need to beat Erin: the fat lesbian boarder, maybe a BMW from Daddy. And in front of her parents, the prefects and her gay bestie, she heroically finds the strength to hop and thrust her way through the performance, but we know she's only going through the motions. And after Erin nails her's, it's clear that Ja'mie blew it, thus commencing with her downward spiral.
Refusing to get out of bed, and barely even able to emerge from the silk cocoon she's created out of her duvet, Ja'mie explains that she's been suicidal. Her parents think she has the "black dog," some kind of depression where all you see are black dogs, which honestly sounds mildly adorable. Anyway, mum has removed all razors, tweezers, sharp edges, and hair straighteners from her room so she doesn't Sylvia Plath herself. Although, she could easily just like open the window, stick her head out, and then shut the window, decapitating herself. If she wants to die, she's going to find a way. She has been stealing mum's anti-dpressants, but they don't seem to be doing anything. She does heroically find the strength to go through a Marie Claire with her gay, describing the quichest dress, so maybe there's hope.
But, a full ray of hope shines through when her gay suggests that, in an effort to show everyone that Mitchell and losing the dance solo to the fat lesbian doesn't even matter, they do a full makeover! A rebel, amazeballs makeover, complete with slut socks, hair extensions, a fake tan, and hoop earrings. OMG, no one will even see it coming. It'll be so great! Stay tuned for the big reveal.