Tonight, we got some incredibly shocking news. It's so painful and awful it's hard to type. See, Leah ... doesn't wear waterproof mascara. Oh, and also, there was that thing where Corey asked her if she cheated on him and she did .... haha whoops. Right before their wedding, she hopped on the bone train to Sex Town with her ex-boyfriend, Robbie.
"We were fighting really bad and you weren't being affectionate at all. I was drunk ... " she says, avoiding Corey's sad, crazy eyes. "Was your ring on your finger, or did you take it off for the night?" When Leah admits she wore it during her indiscretion, you can hear Corey's heart download a bunch of Dashboard Confessional and then shatter.
Leah doesn't expect him to forgive her again. (She cheated before, too.) "You deserve someone who can appreciate everything that you do," she says, which shouldn't be hard considering the past 100 episodes chronicled how he doesn't really do anything.
Leah goes to her mom's house to give Corey some space. She has no clue what he wants, but he certainly does. He's cried his last tear, and he can't look past the trust issues any longer. He tells his dad all roads lead to divorce.
Meanwhile, Leah's texting him off the chain, and though he replies "No" to "Do you even love me," she still thinks they can figure it out. (What? There are, like, a lot of ways to interpret that!) It's not until he says he has a lawyer that she realizes the gravity of the situation -- and begins to fear that he could get the children. Though she sobs when she tells her mom what she's done, she sobers up quickly. She dug her grave. Now she has to lie in it (without Robbie, preferably).
She Googles "West Virginia lawyers" and finds Lyne Ranson's snazzy site. Lyne discovers that Corey has not filed for divorce yet, so Leah can actually petition him and "be the one who's driving the bus; not the passenger." Lyne does not mention, however, if the wheels on said bus go 'round and 'round.
Jo decides he'd like to start weekday visitations because his album is about to drop and he's very busy recording "Watch the Crib" or something equally amazing on weekends. That means Jo, Kailyn and Isaac will have unsupervised playtime together instead of just seeing each other briefly during baby drop-offs. Boyfriend Jordan has a "bad feeling about it." About two minutes into their first family visit, it's obvious that Jordon is related to Miss Cleo.
Kailyn asks Jo if he wants to "order a pizza and hang," which is like girl code for "I'm still obsessed with you." She's jealous that he already has plans that night to see his "groupies." "I can't help it that I have a big heart," he says. "You don't have a heart!" Kailyn replies. "Feel it!" Jo orders. So Kailyn does, which is weird, and then she accidentally says "I love you" as he leaves and it's obvious that "weekday visitation" is boy code for bowchickawowow.
A switch has flipped inside Kailyn, and she's thinking a lot about Jo. Poor Jordan is worried that he's losing her, and even she can't blame him. She knows her new relationship status is "It's Complicated," and when she hugs Jordan to assure him that everything's fine, it's hardly convincing. It's not until she and Jo give Isaac a bath during their next visit that she looks truly content.
Maybe it's because Jo says he'll drop his child support appeal, or perhaps a clean baby plus reading "Humpty Dumpty" is incredible foreplay, but Kailyn flops down on her bed and tells Jo he can stay over. Let's hope all the king's horses and all the king's men remembered to take all their birth control.
Since Jenelle can't shmoke the weed, see friends with pending charges or hang with Kieffer, her main activities are breathing and looking around at things.
Now that her weed haze has lifted, she seems to be thinking more clearly. She suddenly realizes that a year without contact does not a good relationship make. "I can't hang out with you or I go to jail," she explains to Kieffer. (As far as "legit reasons to split" go, that's pretty good.) Faced with the loss of his pothead princess, no words beyond "I feel you" can properly sum up his emotions. So Jenelle bids him a robotic goodbye, and the angels mourn their end.
Without anyone to talk to now, Jenelle turns to Bahhbrah. "I'm always depressed and unhappy now, and weed made me happy," she admits. Bahhbrah takes a minute to register this strange sound that isn't yelling and says maybe it's "tahm to seeahk some prahfessionahl help." She chokes back sobs as she reminds Jenelle that she must nip all her terrible problems in the bud. (Pun so totally intended.)
Though she's worried that being in rehab will keep her from Jace, she tells her lawyer she's ready to make the leap. He finds one in California that will help her deal with her stress issues and drug addiction. Jenelle talks it through with a friend and expresses some basic hesitation, but it's obvious that she's desperate to get away. Nobody wants to live such an awful, unstable life.
Bahhbrah enjoys a nice glass of red wine as she waits for Jenelle to finish packing the night before her flight. Since she's probably kinda drunk -- and also because god speaks through her -- Bahhbrah says, "The day has come, and it's time." Then the earth stopped spinning and they hugged.
At 4 a.m., Bahhbrah whispers, "Your cab's heah!" in a teeny tiny "Jersey Shore"-inspired voice. As she watches her daughter go, she looks very tiny and sad. Regardless of their awful fights and the endless cycle of violence, that's her baby -- and she'll always be rooting for her.
Now that Chelsea has a job (she even wrote her first leopard check!) she's ready to get her "poop in a group" and take that GED she's been talking about since the dawn of man.
The test isn't as simple as she originally thought; it's divided into five sub-groups. "I'll tell you what I do good in," she says to her sparkly friend Erika. "I'm good in language arts. I know how to talk and stuff. I'm bad at history, science and government. Reading, I rock that. Math sucks ass. I'm ready."
Somewhere across town, her ex-boyfriend's Chelsea-Happiness-Meter beeps. She's doing well, so it's time to drop in for some self-esteem crushing! He calls to say that, after ignoring his daughter for a while, he'd like to have her overnight. Chelsea's understandably hesitant, so Adam reminds her that she can trust him. He's just "going to be at my farm alone, with her crib in my room." Since that sounds like the plot of a low-budget horror film, Chelsea refuses. Adam proves he has matured by cursing her out and hanging up.
Chelsea refuses to let Adam bring her down. She studies and prays to the leopard gods. Two hours after the practice test, she finds out that she passed! Now, she can bypass all the prep classes and just take the real exam. She's this much closer to her dream of going to hair school and opening a salon with her mom. Let's just hope Adam doesn't return to mess up her well-grouped poop. (Like, yuck.)
"Teen Mom 2" airs Tuesdays at 10 p.m. EST on MTV
Need help? In the U.S., call 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) for the National Domestic Violence Hotline.
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