"I love you baby you are my angel we can work it out princess you mean everything to me and you always will it's just me you and Jace against the world when you get off probation." When you love as deeply as Kieffer, nothing -- especially the shackles of punctuation -- can keep you from your baby angel princess. Seems Jenelle's newly single, ex-con Kieffer is perfectly poised to roll her life into a blunt full of despair and regret. (Gets you soooo high.) Jenelle explains to roomie Allison that tables have turned and Kieffer is "so nice" and Gary is "so mean." She wants to see him and assess whether or not he's changed.
"Maybe we just needed that time apart from each other to to grow up," Jenelle says sagely, as if just last week she did not violently smash another human into a wall and throw clothes into the air like a two-year-old having a fit.
Since Jenelle's off probation in a matter of days and her mom fears the worst, she heads over to Bahhbrahh's house for a chat. Bahhbrahh is unloading literally the biggest Olive Garden bag I have ever seen, further solidifying her as the best person on this show, and potentially in the world. I would like unlimited Bahhbrahh with a side of "I hope ya have fun livin' in the street with ya boooooooyfriend."
Bahhbrahh asks if being off probation equals smokin' weed again, and Jenelle replies "yeah, probably." Then she informs us that weed is a "plant," not a drug, and it's not something you can get addicted to, despite the fact that she was in rehab a few months ago. She also claims she won't be getting back with Kieffer right away, but will instead give him the benefit of the doubt for a second before chaining herself to him. "He let you take tha rap for all these chahges," Bahhbrahh points out. Oh, that silly jail stuff? "That's in the past," Jenelle says, suddenly full of forgiveness and love. The more someone cares for you, the harder they'll try to get you locked up. Duh, romance.
Finally, after a year of "sobriety," Jenelle's probation officially comes to an end. THAT means we're treated to my favorite drug ... Jenelle's frat boy lawyer Dustin. When he leaves his wrap-around sunglasses at home, he's all business. "Be very careful from here on out," he warns, waving his hands a bit so we can get a look at that sexy high school ring one last time. I'm sure we'll see you in about 30 minutes, Dustin. Don't you go too far now.
A while later, the big moment happens: Jenelle and Kieffer reunite at a bus terminal. Much like Romeo and Juliet, they make small talk about the trials and tribulations of their lives. Ancient grudges, unclean hands, GED acquisition, tans. You know, the basic star-crossed loser stuff.
School's in session, and torturing mannequin heads is not as easy as it seems. As far as my untrained eye can see, Chelsea is struggling in Intro to Using a Spritz Bottle and straight up failing Twisting Things Around Other Things 101. Well you know what they say: Rome's awful hair wasn't teased and irreversibly damaged in a day.
Per usual, learning isn't the only thing on Chelsea's mind. It's been two weeks since she hooked up with her ex, and her period is still as MIA as Adam. Then, out of the blue, Mr. Love 'Em and Leave 'Em Potentially Pregnant calls. He wants to see if they can meet for lunch, but says pretty blatantly that the main reason is to see Aubree. Though Chelsea texts him back immediately (I assume it says something subtle, like "OH MY GOD YES YOU'RE MY EVERYTHING IT WILL BE THE MEAL OF MY DREAMS"), he has yet to respond.
Since nobody ever really wants to hang out with her, Chelsea has lots of time to go visit her mom. I'm proud to say that her mother's accessory-life-crisis has passed, and her hair is free of feathers, gems, and desperation.
After some time has elapsed, Chelsea does what most self-confident women do when they are being textually ignored: Reaches out again. Ladies, if it looks like someone doesn't want to talk to you, don't be fooled. Ignoring you is how a guy shows he cares! You should text him over and over until he shuts off his phone, proving that he's SO in to you he has no desire to even speak with anyone else all evening.
Eventually, Adam replies that he's "too tired" and can't meet up that night, even though he was the one who reached out to begin with. "Now, I'm the bad guy" Chelsea sighs, alluding to how she got Aubree's hopes up for nothing. Since Chelsea's not buying Adam's sudden bout of narcolepsy, she hops on Facebook for some light stalking. Sure enough, she sees that he's planning on a trip to the cinema.
Hoping to get as hurt as possible, Chelsea decides to text just one more time. "I'm not ditching Aubree, I'm ditching u" is his pure evil reply. Here's hoping he chokes on popcorn or at least gets some awful Sourpatch Kid tongue.
Since Adam can only talk when he's eating chicken wings, he opens up to some guy friends (and a girl who I'm hoping is either having a bad day or going through a gender reassignment) about Aubree and Chelsea. When he tells stories about his supposedly nutso ex, he infuriatingly -- but not surprisingly -- leaves out all his wrongdoings. "I love her and always have her back, but I will not take her back," he says proudly, like he's actually someone worth dating as opposed to a loser dude wearing a Hollister sweatshirt and licking sauce off his fingers.
Then, when we least expect it, Chelsea gets her period! Never before has a girl been so psyched to have the painters in. To commemorate it, she dyes a whole chunk of her hair a nice, deep red. I didn't know "menstruation" was a shade on the L'Oreal color wheel, but I must have missed the exclusive Uterine Lining collection.
As part of her celebration, Chelsea goes and sits in a field, tampon commercial style and Aubree does carefree twirls. These girls really knows how to adhere to a theme!
With Jeremy out of town again, Leah has a lot of time to apply between 60 and 100 spider legs to her eyelids ... and to think about how she can dump her unsuspecting fiance. "This whole time I've been with Jeremy, I was hoping the feelings I had for Corey would go away and the feelings I had for Jeremy would grow bigger, but I can't say it's like that," she confides to the friend who doesn't seem to have anything else to do but listen to Leah and struggle to keep her eyes open under the weight of her liner.
Much as Leah wants to follow her insanely confused heart and baby daddy blindly, her head reminds her that he has never been the stable choice. Even now he waffles between begging for her back and pushing her toward her fiance. Jeremy, on the other hand, has obediently been there for Leah through thin and thick-headed drama like an obedient golden retriever who doesn't mind getting the short end of the stick, so long as there is a stick. "Corey is the person that makes my family complete," Leah concludes. The silver ring on her finger is strong, but it's not blood -- and that's the tie that binds forever. ("He went to Jared!" has nothing on "He fathered my children!," but they don't tell you that in the chocolate frappucino diamond commercials, now do they?)
Though Leah knows it's "not fair to Jeremy," she heads to Corey's new house ("there's two bathtubs!" he informs us proudly) to get crunk on Monster energy drinks and dream of a life with two sets of rubber duckies. They flirt 5th-grade style, pretending they aren't interested even though they've only had eyes for each other since, well, the moment of conception. Corey admits that he's struggling with the fear that Leah might flip-flop back in Jeremy's direction -- and moreover, he's stunned and almost in awe of Jeremy's ability to sit and wait for her decision. It's almost like Corey realizes that Jeremy is made of more "better or for worse" husbandy stuff.
Finally, he says that they should "do it" and "take it slow." Though Leah's driving this relationship, she wants to make a quick stop at therapy. "There's no 'try,' 'maybe,' 'it might work out,' let's do it," she says. In response, Corey looks up at the sky and exhales deeply. He just stole the princess out of her castle ... but he's acting as if he's the one trapped.
By the time Jeremy finally comes home, Leah looks like she's been dragged through a bush backwards. Her hair obviously skipped a few pills, 'cause it's birthed lots of dirty baby dreadlocks. Emotionally unstable as she looks, her face registers nothing resembling a feeling as she drops the biggest bomb of the season on Jeremy. "I did agree to go to counseling with Corey," she says stoically, in the tone she reserves for flippant statements like "I am planning on doing a food shop" or "It would probably be best if I was sterilized."
"So we're done? You're just expecting me to put my life on hold while you find out what you want? I wanna be with you, that don't seem to matter," Jeremy says flatly. Dude, your fiance just ended your engagement and told you she was secretly sneaking around with her ex-baby daddy ... aren't you going to get a little mad? How about trying to open your eyes all the way, or testing out the word "doesn't? "As soon as I get my sh*t, it's done," Jeremy cautions her. Leah's reply? "Yep."
At this rate, Jeremy may as well lay at Leah's front door and let the babies wipe their feet on his face. Does this apathy come from an inability to express himself with a limited vocabulary ... or is he just so dog tired of Leah's antics that getting worked up feels like a waste?
Maybe I incorrectly assume that hillbillies only have "normal" or "monster rage" settings, but that couldn't be possible. Any repeat viewer tunes in under the pretense that Jeremy and the 'Teen Mom' gang aren't people with a range of complex emotions like us! If they were, this show wouldn't be fun anymore, and the US would have the highest teen birth rate in the developed world and ... oh. Wait, why do we watch this?
As part of the court ruling, no significant others can be present during a baby drop-off -- but that doesn't make seeing Jo any easier, especially after all they've been through. Since Kailyn got Isaac to herself for two full weeks, it's especially difficult to say goodbye. Unlike Jo who is constantly surrounded by family, Kailyn's just got her little one to confide in ... and he's not much of a conversationalist, especially since he's got a gnarly cold.
As soon as Kailyn drives away, Jo brings Isaac downstairs to kiss his grandma ... and his girlfriend, Vee. Apparently he only aches for special, alone time with his son when he's in front of a judge or cavalcade of lawyers. Luckily, Vee's dressed for babysitting in her Forever Almost 21 mini-dress. It must be from their new line of Total Trash.
Back at home, Kailyn (who might I point out is looking quite pretty!) catches Javi up on everything. He doesn't seem super pleased with her decision to go to therapy, and he's outright horrified that Kailyn would look someone who hit her in the face. "I put my hands on him too," she points out, furthering Javi's point that Kailyn always comes to Jo's defense. It's typical -- and very upsetting -- battered person syndrome. As their talk gets more stressful, Kailyn lays down the law: All this junk is distracting her from school, and she can't make a life for herself if she's not more educated. Poor Javi looks away. Is he trash or treasure in her life? Much like her skin, that answer is not clean and clear or under control.
At college the next day, Kailyn tells an advisor that she had to drop two classes because of the insanity of her life. As a result, it will take her five more semesters (that's another two plus years) to get that coveted diploma. "I've already been here for three," she says, dejected.
"Teen Mom 2" airs Mondays at 10 p.m. EST on MTV.
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