‘Love Island’ USA Recap, S7, Ep. 9-14: Let’s Talk About Huda

As you know, Love Island airs an episode every day of the week except for Wednesday, which is when our weekly recap will publish for the rest of the season.

I’m just gonna say it. Two recouplings in three days is too much. If you’re going to do a big villa-shaking twist, let it breathe for a few days before introducing another big twist. Let the Islanders make their own messes, you know?

But maybe I’m alone. If there’s one thing I’ve learned this week, it’s that I have some minority opinions. For one thing, I have never been especially pressed about Huda and Jeremiah. Certainly not as pressed as Ace has been. I found myself nodding in agreement with Austin, that overbaked Backstreet Boy, as he gestured to Ace from across the villa and marveled, “Look, he’s standing passionately about it!” In fact, I still think Ace’s obsession with them was a little overblown, and he (and everyone) should really stop throwing around the term “love bombing.” That said, when Ace pointed at Jeremiah and accused, “You’re scamming,” he wasn’t wrong.

Before that, though, we begin with Huda and Jeremiah’s relationship progressing as normal. One minute, they’re bickering; the next minute, we’re assailed by a night-vision shot of them having sex under the covers. Does it get a bit boring? Sure, but so do those late-night phone calls with your one friend who’s on the verge of breaking up with their toxic boyfriend for the seventh time this year. Plus, it does facilitate one of the great Love Island conversations of the ages: when Huda decides to tell Nic about her child. The exchange is too perfect to be abridged, so I have transcribed it in full here:

Huda: “I’m a mommy.”

Nic: “Mommy?”

Huda: “I’m a mom.”

Nic: “Mamacita!”

Huda: “No, I’m a mommy.”

Nic: “A mom of what? Like a dog?”

Huda: “I have a daughter.”

Nic: “Like in real life?”

Huda: “Yeah.”

Nic: “Like a daughter, like a real baby?”

Huda: “Yeah, like a human child.”

Nic: *Grins in confusion.

And scene.

Huda shares the mom bomb with Nic so that Jeremiah will have a friend he can talk to about it, implying that they’ve had at least one mature conversation about Jeremiah’s emotional needs. But we never see that discussion. Instead, we get two episodes of conflict over one underdone pancake. Huda thinks making breakfast is the bare minimum, and Jeremiah needs to step it up. Plus, she can’t eat this pancake he made her because it’s still raw in the middle. Jeremiah thinks Huda is nagging and nothing is ever good enough for her. Taylor is involved somehow. Eventually, Huda explodes that it’s not about the pancakes; it was never about the pancakes but about what the pancakes represent! Jeremiah mumbles something like, “Okay, Mom,” and thinks this is all a lot of drama for pancakes.

After all this pancake hullabaloo, you really start to get the feeling that Jeremiah and Huda secretly hate each other, and then dawn breaks on a new day in the villa, and you realize it’s always been this way. In fact, all seems basically well in Whoville, and at this point, I’m assuming they’ll have their big breakup after Casa Amor, as God intended. Until we decide to let America Rock the Vote, and all hell breaks loose.

In the meantime, there are still other Islanders in the villa, believe it or not. The day after the Pie-ing, 12 sexy singles wake up in their shared white bedroom (well, technically 11 because Ace is still sleeping in “Soul Ties” outside), and by the end of the night, there are 15 Islanders peeling off pleather fetishwear and wishing one another semi-flirtatious good nights, because three new bombshells have entered the villa. As has become the trend, the bombshells — Pepe, Jalen, and Iris — arrive at the end of a challenge. For this event, Love Island has dispensed with the innuendos and just gone for a straightforward kink theme. Everyone makes out, but my favorite part is that Amaya is too busy gassing Iris up to remember that Iris is meant to be competition.

Say what you will about Amaya — actually, don’t, because I’m afraid you’ll be mean, and I’m feeling very protective of Amaya these days. Amaya is here to find love, sure, but she’s also here to make friends, and Amaya is the kind of friend who will lie to the cops and testify in court on your behalf. Like, if Amaya’s boyfriend told her that your boyfriend cheated but she can’t tell anyone, Amaya would be texting you before the conversation was even over. And I know this because of Charlie.

Oh, Charlie. It seems I spoke too soon last week. All it took was one tattooed, Spanish American bombshell to, to use a phrase Charlie might be familiar with, throw a spanner in the works. Hannah has already foreshadowed that she has commitment issues, but Charlie wasn’t there for that chat, so he was, unfortunately, blindsided when Hannah started sticking her tongue down Pepe’s throat.

Hannah likes Charlie, she says in her confessionals, but she also likes making out with hot men, and what is Love Island for if not that? To the speakeasy! Also known as Hannah’s make-out room. And so, next door to the photo booth where Nic and Cierra consecrated their mutual vibe, cowgirl style, Hannah climbs onto Pepe’s muscular thighs and gets a little cowgirl make-out of her own. While Hannah is off enjoying her new flirtation, a distraught Charlie realizes he doesn’t have anyone else and so casts his eyes about the villa for an available girl. There is only one: Amaya, but Amaya is so loyal, babe, that she doesn’t even entertain it. Like, she’s moved to tears about it. No matter, because Hannah has already decided to stop kissing anyone but Charlie. Right before America breaks them up forever.

That’s right, it’s firepit time. This time, Ariana announces with a whoosh of her ponytail that America has voted on who the three bombshells must recouple with. And we know what happens when America votes. Chaos.

First, there’s the obvious one. Taylor has been giving us nothing for nearly two weeks, and Olandria deserves an alternative. Thus, Jalen, a small-town kid from Georgia on his first trip out of the country. For the first time, we are finally seeing Taylor sweat a little bit and it is a welcome reprieve. Ace has set himself up as some kind of master of romance, despite being 22 years of age, and advises Taylor that women need displays of affection — which Ace has already taken the liberty of planning on Taylor’s behalf. This is how we find Taylor and Olandria on a salsa dance “date,” taught by Ace himself. (In fairness, this is Ace’s actual job.)

It’s a riff on the yoga-class “date” that Ace has rescheduled for Chelley. He informs Chelley of the good times awaiting her in the most Ace-like manner possible by sternly ordering her to be ready for him early the following morning, with a side of negging. “I know you’re late, and I don’t fuck with that,” he chastises. Why is Chelley swooning?

But even under Ace’s tutelage, Taylor has not yet managed to lock Olandria down, especially not now that she has actual options. Naturally, America votes for Jalen to recouple with Olandria, leaving Taylor single and in danger of being dumped.

Next, Pepe. And it’s barely a question. He’s had some good chats with Cierra — exactly his type, he claims — and has even given Amaya reason to hope — “Holy guacamole, Amaya papaya just may be in love!” — but, of course, that’s not what happens. He’s been tonguing Hannah down all over this villa, so America picks her for the recoupling, and now Charlie is back in the hot seat.

And then, the drama. All of the boys, except maybe Taylor, are interested in Iris. Nic is ready to bust out the abacus again, and even Jeremiah has been mildly polite, but Ace has been making the most headway. On Iris’s first day in the villa, he assumes the Ace Seduction Stance (head leaning on a pillow, arms crossed, general air of waiting to be entertained) and explains that he’s looking for love and also keeping all his options open as a matter of policy. She calls it one of the deepest conversations she’s had in the villa. Iris and Ace would be a logical matchup, but no. America pairs Iris with Jeremiah, and it’s an immediate shit show. “Bro, this shit’s so fucked,” observes Olandria. Now, Ariana informs the group with barely concealed relish that the Islanders have to choose one of the three singles to eliminate. I can hardly hear Charlie campaigning over Amaya’s howls of “No! We don’t wanna do that!”

Cierra votes for Charlie. Chelley votes for Charlie. Austin panics and votes for Taylor. Nic votes for Huda because “everyone should be trying new things,” and she’s not. Then, Ace stands up and votes for Huda with the most haterific hater speech of all time, declaring her relationship “bullshit.” It’s down to Amaya, who is completely undone, but we already know she’s not about to vote for one of her girls. She votes for Charlie, and then everyone dissolves into tears. The boys are mad at Austin for not voting for Huda. Jeremiah’s mad at the boys for trying to tell him how to date. Huda is mad at America. And Hannah is crying into a photo-booth printout of her and Charlie.

But we only have so much time to mourn. Sexy singles must be forced to make out and swap beds. Poorly prepared breakfasts must be served. Huda must seethe into her makeup mirror about Jeremiah’s neglect, and Ace must hold court above the ping-pong table. The following morning, the three new couples have been spirited away for a triple date, giving Huda several hours in which to perfect her “Let It Burn” speech.

After the recoupling calamity the night before, Jeremiah was so busy being mad at his friends that he forgot to comfort Huda, which is actually inexcusable. It’s so inexcusable that Nic, Jeremiah’s No. 1 boy and Huda’s No. 2 hater, calls him out on it and says he’s lost respect. It’s so inexcusable that Jeremiah’s only excuse is, and I quote, “But in my head, at that time, I didn’t want to.” But now Jeremiah is confused because he thought all the boys wanted him to break up with Huda, and now that he has, they’re accusing him of being a jerk to Huda? What more does Jeremiah have to do to prove his love to his bros?

It’s not great that Huda overhears this entire conversation, nor that she spends the rest of the day screaming epithets at Jeremiah from across the villa. She’s gently advised by the girls to “keep it classy,” but that is simply not Huda’s style. In the times when Huda is not calling Jeremiah a “pussy-ass bitch” to his face, she is saying it to one of her fellow Islanders ad nauseum or else collapsing into sobs. It’s genuinely difficult to watch. I know time works differently in the villa, and that seems especially true in Huda’s case, because she is reacting as if this is the end of a yearlong relationship, not a ten-day one. The other Islanders are rapidly getting sick of this, and Iris wants to know why it’s all so dramatic. Ma’am, you are on Love Island.

An epic Jeremiah and Huda chat is inevitable, and it takes place in the speakeasy. (It is a cushioned room with glass bottles of water; I can’t believe they’re making me call it a speakeasy). Over the course of what could have been several hours or several days, Huda makes some good points in a loud tone of voice, and Jeremiah makes a lot of coughing noises in the back of his throat. He starts with an apology for abandoning her last night, which might as well have been written by Nic, for whom this mea culpa is actually intended, let’s be honest. I needed you and you weren’t there, Huda says. But Jeremiah explains he wasn’t there for her because he was shut down, and he shut down because he froze, and he froze because he was checked out, and he checked out because he shut down, and God, get me out of here.

I would talk about the other couples, but much like the energy in the villa or the air in the room, Jeremiah and Huda have taken up all the drama from this show. We do get glimpses here and there. Hannah is settling into her consolation prize. Austin has finally given up the Chelley chase and started focusing on Amaya. Ace actively chooses Chelley for the first time. And Olandria’s Jalen interlude seems to have only brought her closer to Taylor. By the time of the next recoupling — made more dramatic by the addition of a set piece in an elaborate door metaphor — there’s only one real surprise left.

All day, Jeremiah has been telling Huda that he still cares for her and Iris isn’t even his type, then telling the boys that the Huda situation is irrevocably cooked. No one really knows who he’s going to choose at the end of the day, but everyone is slack-jawed when he picks Iris. Huda, head held high, slowly emerges from behind her own magenta door. Backed by a triumphant musical track, she calls out Jeremiah for lying and then making the “safe choice,” meaning Iris. “Congratulations, dude. You’re a dick.”

But wait, we can’t go to bed yet. We still have to let one more person go. The Islanders are instructed to stand behind the person they’d like to save — Huda or Jalen — which results in a fascinating tableau. Nic, Austin, Jeremiah, and Pepe stand behind Jalen. Everyone else backs Huda. Even Iris! Even Ace! I mean, Ace pettily rejects Huda’s “thank you” as he does it, but he still does it. In solidarity with Chelley? Out of some Islander loyalty code? Does he simply hate Jeremiah more than he hates Huda? You never can tell with Ace.

• “It’s fun to kiss your friends.” — Austin

• “I just love watching people make out.” — Iris

• “God bless America.” — Huda

• “Huda put security alarms around the bed in case he moves.” — Nic

• “Do you believe in evolution?” — Cierra

• “I bet Austin’s ass still up waiting for me.” — Chelley