Mary is hobnobbing with people while Blondie plays in the background. Her friend is on her third marriage. Mitch's friend got divorced after he came out and he found a partner. Mitch asks where the lucky guy is. "I dumped the ungrateful slut," he laughs. Both friends ask Mitch and Mary how they are still married. "They say the key to a good marriage is good communication," Mary stumbles. "What makes any marriage work?" Mitch asks. "It's, um," "We communicate, and all that," Mary lies. "It's about trust," Mitch pretends to be a different person.
Cameron is standing above the pool in his wetsuit cut-offs. He is taking a special after-hours class, which I can only assume is at about nine at night, since the reunion is going on at the same time. His instructor gives him a mask with a microphone and a speaker. Cameron is nervous and tells him he can do it. Cameron is waiting until he's ready.
Elizabeth is still waiting in the doctor's office. He asks if she's got Rent tickets now. She tells him she told Cameron if he really wants something he's got to go out and get it, so she's there so she's not "branded a hypocrite." She decides to tell him the truth. She's afraid sex will end their relationship. She hasn't had sex in eight years. Even though her husband died a year and a half ago, after forty-five years of marriage...sometimes the sex dies in the good relationships, too. "In the end we were friends. Just friends." The doctor asks what that has to do with him. She says she never thought she'd be facing these things again. She tries to tell the doctor how she likes being with him and going places with him, but she's having to struggle over the five-note Get Real jingle that is imposing on the scene. He tells her that they are fine. She exhales.
Mitch walks up to Mary at the reunion and tells her he's ready to leave whenever she is. She says they've only been there an hour. She tells him to stop sulking. She was looking forward to this night and instead, she says, "You have succeeded in making me feel like hell." Her neck cords pop out and slap him in the face. "Thanks," she says through a strained smile and she walks off.
Meanwhile, Kenny is giving Rebecca the cornerstone of any Fourteen-Year-Old Foreplay: the backrub. He asks her to name one thing she likes about him. She comments that he's turning the game around as she turns to face him. "Um," she thinks. "You're nice." Yeah. Great. Thanks. "And," she says while grabbing his hand, "you're just...totally..." she places his hand on her left breast, "Kenny." Oooookay. Kenny executes perfectly that fourteen-year-old touching a first boob exhale that comes out in little shivers like it's fifteen degrees outside. The five-note Get Real jingle quiets long enough for Kenny to put his hand over Rebecca's eyes and ask, "What color are my eyes?" She asks if he's serious. He says, "Yeah." "Brown," she says, in a way that says, "Uh, what does this have to do with my boob?" "Yours are hazel with little yellow flecks, but they look totally green when you wear that aqua sweater with that hole in the left shoulder." Rebecca looks at him like "Earth to Old Navy, I'm still not naked," as he continues. "And um, mine are blue." He takes his hand off her and looks down. She exhales. He exhales.