American High
Promises, Prom Misses

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Erin: A+ | Grade It Now!
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It's Called "Prom," Not "Nirvana."

Kiwi's delivering pizzas and saying that he had an interest in taking some girl to Prom (whom we can only suppose is the non-sexual girlfriend), but she's waiting for some other guy to ask her. "If girls wanna go to Prom," he says, "they better start showing a little appreciation, you know? Because we try hard, you know? And they're not helping out at all. But, whatever, you know? We'll see. We'll definitely see what happens." Oh, will we, Kiwi? Will we? Will that be before or after you deliver that pepperoni with onions? You've been soooo active in your perusal of a potential prom date. We should be so lucky as to see you show up at some girl's door with a double cheese anchovy and a handwritten invitation to the prom. Work on your dating skills, dude. They are suffering.

Switch to Anna lying on her bed and writing in her journal. Okay, are the producers just trying to put Kiwi and Anna together in our minds? Why have we seen nothing of either of them for most of this season except for the Kiwi + Anna + Bad Roots Girl episode and now this juxtaposition of their two personal entries? Way to create a rumor, AH producers. Seriously. "I really want to make Prom, like, the last big going-out event in high school," says Anna in a voice-over. As Anna lies in her bed, looking out at nowhere, her voice-over says, "But the guys that'd maybe ask me have...different motives...or, like, don't really want to get to know me or judging [sic] me by how I look. So, yeah, I am maybe overly cautious." Somewhere else in Anna's house, Anna's dad says, "When she didn't get asked to Prom, she was so hurt. I felt so sorry for her. 'Cause no one asked her out." Remember that recap I did where I bitched about her dad? And how he didn't talk to her? I believe I called him "The Man Who Said Little." Little did I know that he said little because the director and producer didn't let him. Now I'm kind of liking Anna's daddy. But not in that way. Don't you go thinking that.

Hallowed Halls of Hell. Girls and guys are hugging. I'm assuming this means that guys have asked girls to Prom. Awww. Like I care.

At a table in the cafeteria, Kiwi stands up. His voice-over says, "Someone just said, Shanna hasn't been asked to Prom. I'm like, 'Shanna!' I just think she's a really nice person. She's gorgeous and she's fun -- you know, I like her. You know, she's just the girl you wanna talk to and go up to and just say, 'Hi!'" Next thing we know, Kiwi's walking down the Hallowed Halls with a bouquet of flowers and Shanna's just sitting in class, doodling on her notebook and not paying attention to the teacher. Kiwi's being carried along the arms of his soldiers (not literally -- work with me!) as he makes his way to Shanna's classroom. Shanna's oblivious. Kiwi takes a moment outside the room and breathes deeply. His friends are beside themselves. They're hitting each other and making personal notes in their imaginary notebooks for romantic moments they'd like to perform in the future. Kiwi knocks on the classroom door. Shanna looks up, but doesn't even look toward the door -- even though there's a goddamn camera in her face thereby announcing to her that SOMETHING IMPORTANT IS ABOUT TO HAPPEN. Although, in her defense, maybe she was used to the camera in the face, and didn't realize that KIWI WAS COMING IN THE DOOR WITH FLOWERS. He saunters in and hunkers down on bended knee with flowers presented and says, "Will you go to Prom with me?" Shanna blushes, hugs Kiwi, and then tells him to go ask Anna out for Prom, because she happens to be busy on prom night due to an emergency phone call from John Taylor of Duran Duran and is regretfully unable to attend the festivities. "John just needs me there," she says, flicking her hair. "I can't let him down." Yeah. That was my fantasy. Read it and weep. It got me through several lonely nights so don't turn your nose up at it! By the way, John and I are having drinks next Tuesday. Apparently, his breakup with Amanda de Cadenet has really hurt him. Aw. My poor, misunderstood, eighties pop-star bassist.

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American High

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