We have a young man from Portsmith.
His name is--
John Ambrose McClaren.
(playful music)
You know who I am?
Someone I sent a love letter to.
Yeah, that's the one.
First number is...
B4.
Are we lame?
We might be a little bit.
But lame in a cool way.
Totally lame in a cool way.
- Yeah. - Are you kidding?
He sent her his photo with a note on the back.
Oh, this seems personal.
I feel a little funny reading this.
Wanna read this instead?
(playful music)
Do you remember it's only a loan?
They are tearing the tree house down.
Why?
The Robertsons are moving out
and the new couple, they don't have kids, so...
The time capsule.
We should dig it up.
And rob future generations of the discovery?
The future generations are gonna have their hands full
with deforestation, urban overcrowding...
We'll probably be living underwater at that point, right?
(chuckles)
But it could be fun for us.
Speaking of Peter Kavinsky,
he told me to tell you he says hi.
Is he still like he was in middle school?
What does that mean?
At parties and stuff, he would always
take the last slice of pizza.
And then whenever you tried to call him out on it,
he'd be like, "I'm an athlete."
(laughs)
Does anyone want the last slice?
Too slow.
What?
You look great.
Thanks.
I'm glad I decided to dress up.
Me too.
It's my, my dad's.
- Oh, great. - Yeah
- (giggles) - Shall we?
- Yes. - Yeah.
(upbeat music)
It's my dad's...
(piano music)
Are we good, John?
Ambrose.
(chuckles) (piano music)
We've always been good.
Lara
Jean.