Kirsten: Seth, we need to talk to Ryan.
Seth: Okay. If this has to do with the rug, though, I just wanted to tell you that Ryan had nothing to do with it.
Kirsten: What about the rug?
Seth: I’m gonna go now.
Sandy: So Kirsten and I went to Child Services this morning and we told them that we want you to stay with us. But there’s a catch. Because you’re a minor, the only way they’re gonna allow that to happen is if we assume all legal responsibility for you.
Ryan: I can’t ask you guys to do that.
Sandy: You don’t have to. We’re asking you.
Kirsten: We’ve all talked about it. And we want to be your legal guardians. We want you to be part of the family. If you want to be.
Ryan: What if it doesn’t work?
Kirsten: Well how do you mean?
Ryan: Well what if something happens and you guys change your mind?
Sandy: Like what? You steal a car? You burn down a house? You beat up the captain of the water polo team? Those ships have sailed, my friend.
Ryan: You knew about this and didn’t say anything.
Seth: I didn’t wanna jinx it. Dude. You’re a Cohen now. Welcome to a life of insecurity and paralyzing self-doubt.
Ryan: Yeah. Now all I have to do is stay out of trouble.
Seth: Yeah. That could be… difficult.
Kirsten: And we should clean all this out so you have room for your…. Right. You don’t have any stuff. Which means we’ve gotta go shopping. For clothes and shoes and underpants.
Seth: Mom. Don’t say “underpants”.
Summer: These gloves are giving me serious sausage arms.
Marissa: You want me to fix you up with Ryan? I thought you said he was a total psycho.
Summer: Well that was before I got to know him.
Marissa: Wait, when did you get to know him?
Summer: Just now. Plus, then there’s that whole brooding bad boy thing. He’s wounded. I can save him.
Sandy: Fellas, you mind?
Seth: Oh. Ah, if this is about the vase…
Sandy: Which vase?
Seth: Nothing. Let’s go, Ryan.
Ryan panicked: Dancing? You didn’t tell me there was dancing.
Seth: Well if I told you there was dancing, I’d be here by myself right now.
Ryan: Because I really don’t dance.
Seth: Neither do I. I just move well.
Summer: Who’s pathetic enough not to have a date the day before cotillion?
Anna: Actually, at this point that would be you.
Luke: I’d be pretty jealous right now. If Chino wasn’t gay.
Marissa: Luke—
Luke: What? No, it doesn’t bother me. I mean he was born that way, right?
Holly: Yeah, it’s at my house. I do it every year for cotillion.
Seth: You didn’t do it last year.
Holly: Yeah we did.
Seth: Ouch.
Seth: Ah, you’re a really… good barbecuetionist.
Seth: Wow. You just got your butt kicked and you didn’t even fight back. Dude, you really are a Cohen.
Ryan: Look, your parents taking me in, it’s like the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m not gonna lose it just to kick some guy’s ass.
Seth: But you could totally kick his ass, right?
Ryan: Oh yeah.
Seth: Cool.
Seth: Anna, just know that—in life—there are peaks and there are—
Anna: Ryan’s not coming, is he?
Seth: Kinda took the wind out of my sails, but yes.
Sandy: Which one’s sword?
Ryan: Not the one you’re hitting.
Sandy: Got it. Right.
Ryan: Okay, now you’re stabbing me. Just don’t touch any of the buttons, follow me through the
forest, and, uh, maybe we’ll both make it out of here alive.
Sandy: So you didn’t feel like going, huh?
Ryan: Yeah. Not really for me.
Sandy: What, waltzing and orchids? What could be more you?
Ryan: Guess I don’t really fit in, huh?
Sandy: Oh, I got news for you. Nobody does. I guarantee you every single person at that cotillion feels like a fraud. They’ve all got secrets and they’re all terrified the guy next door is going to find them out.
Ryan: What’s your secret?
Sandy: Sometimes, when the sun’s coming up, and the surf is good… and I haven’t pissed my wife off quite as much as I have today… I kinda like this place.
Ryan: You just stabbed me again.
Sandy: Oo. Sorry.
Anna: Do you know what girls find sexy?
Seth: No. Wait, let me guess. Dude’s that play water polo.
Anna: Confidence! Watch this. Seth.
Seth: Yes?
Anna: I don’t have a date for cotillion. would you be my escort?
Seth: I don’t… I mean—
Anna: Confidence, Cohen.
Seth: Let’s do this.
Kirsten: You couldn’t put on a tux?
Sandy: Pick your battles, honey.