One To Watch(50)

“No.” Bea smiled as she lied. “They were fine.”

Cheshire High’s real prom wasn’t until late May—that would be a rubbery chicken dinner at a local banquet venue with ostentatious carpets and faux gilt chandeliers. This “prom,” staged for the purpose of this week’s episode, was a bonus dance funded by the Main Squeeze production. The Cheshire High School gym, scene of many of Bea’s athletic humiliations and faked period cramps to avoid the same, was decked out with streamers, balloons, and swirls of rainbow-colored spotlights, and filled to the brim with high school kids in off-brand formalwear dancing to the music of some band no one had heard of (whose label had surely paid for this opportunity to get them on TV). The band—which was actually pretty good, Bea noted, punky women in black lipstick and torn fishnets—was playing on a makeshift stage the crew had constructed under one of the basketball nets, illuminated by heavy production lights.

Bea and Wyatt waited to make their big entrance in a far less glamorous location: the gym’s equipment closet, lined with smelly pinnies and stacks of basketballs.

“Are you nervous?” Wyatt asked her.

“A little,” Bea admitted. “Teenagers are terrifying.”

Wyatt looked wan; Bea realized he was considerably more tense than she was. The band finished its song, and Bea and Wyatt’s field producer ushered them into place for their entrance. They heard thunderous applause as Johnny took the stage and shouted, “Cheshire High, how are you doing tonight?”

The kids cheered gamely, and in a matter of moments, the producer was shoving Bea and Wyatt through the door and into the gym, where they pushed toward the stage despite a blinding spotlight and what felt like a throng of screaming fans, light and noise pressing in on them from every angle.

“Give it up for Cheshire’s own Bea Schumacher!” Johnny shouted as Bea and Wyatt ascended the stairs to the little stage, and the kids applauded. “So, Bea, I understand you never went to a dance when you were in high school. What do you think of your very first prom?”

Bea heard some snarky murmurs from the kids—terrific, one more moment of feeling like a loser in the Cheshire High gym.

“So far, so good.” She forced a smile.

“Well, what would you say if I told you that you and Wyatt had been voted prom king and queen?”

Bea eyed Johnny skeptically. “I would say the voting was pretty well rigged, since none of these people have ever met me?”

The kids laughed appreciatively, as did Johnny. “You’ve got us there, Bea. As a matter of fact, the students chose their own prom king and queen as well—let’s welcome Cort and Tara to the stage!”

The kids started screaming and cheering again as two teenagers bounded up to join Bea and Wyatt—a guy in a rented tux who was tall and handsome and absolutely a basketball player (or maybe a football player? or maybe both?) and a girl who was blond and teensy in her lacy pink dress.

“Okay, you four,” Johnny said conspiratorially, “since there can only be one true prom king and queen, what do you say we have a little competition to see who wins the crown? It’s time to play the prom date game!”

Bea had no idea what that meant, but it turned out the “prom date game” was a barely reimagined version of The Newlywed Game, wherein Bea and Wyatt would compete against Cort and Tara to see how well they knew their respective prom dates. This didn’t seem quite fair to Bea, considering that Cort and Tara had presumably spent more than ten minutes in each other’s company prior to tonight, but it was no use protesting. A PA handed them all squares of poster board and thick black markers, and they wrote down responses to a list of questions before Johnny publicly grilled them to reveal their answers. Five rounds into the seven-round game, Cort and Tara had, predictably, won every single time.

“What,” Johnny asked dramatically to begin round six, “is your prom date’s favorite condiment?”

Bea guessed Wyatt’s correctly (“She’s right, I do love ketchup”), and revealed her own proclivity for sour cream (“It goes with every kind of potato!”), before Cort was forced to admit he’d misread the question when he flipped over a placard that read “Trojans.”

“It’s mustard, Cort.” Tara shook her head disdainfully. “He knows how much I love mustard.”

Cort hung his head in shame as Bea and Wyatt grinned at each other, pleased to have finally won a round of the game—but their victory was to be short-lived.

“Okay, guys, we saved the best for last,” Johnny effused. “What is the craziest place your prom date has ever had sex? Or, Cort and Tara, the craziest place they’ve ever been kissed, in your case?”

Cort and Tara exchanged a knowing look, and Tara giggled. “Whatever you say, Johnny.”

The teens were answering first this round, and it was clear there was no question as to whether they’d guessed correctly: They were both holding back uncontrollable laughter as they shouted “Mr. Asalone’s classroom!” in unison, which was met with a roar of cheers and applause from the rest of the kids. Cort and Tara high-fived, and while Bea was happy for the teens’ sex-positive attitude, it certainly didn’t make her feel better about the answer she was about to give.

“Over to you, Wyatt and Bea,” said Johnny. “Bea, what’s the craziest place you’ve ever had sex?”