It was a horrible Friday already. Joey's stomach turned and she could only breathe out of one nostril. Not since 3rd grade had she ever woken up sick. After a quick shower, she left the house with half-dry hair, despite the bitter cold.
This was the last time Bodie would be able to take her to school because with the B&B up and running, she'd have to walk from now on. That morning, she heard the news said something about a storm brewing so that made her thankful that at least she didn't have to walk today... then again, she didn't exactly trust her life in Bob.
At first it felt like the flu and she was convinced she could handle that. Just one day and then she was home free. Home. The thought never sounded more wonderful.
Trying to continue with her morning rituals, she struggled with the heavy blue front doors and slowly walked up to Dawson's locker, trying not to trip over her own feet. By now, her nose was running a marathon, her eyes were brimming, her throat was scratchy and her temperature had been flip-flopping between hot and cold since she got up. She groaned. It was strep, she was sure of it.
"Ohmigod, Joey, you look like you're going to collapse," Dawson dropped his messenger bag, took her shoulders in his hands and inspected her face.
"I'm just a little... you know... it's fine." She was fine. She needed to be fine because missing school was definitely not on her ticket out of Capeside.
"No, I don't think so... I'm taking you to the nurse." Joey was never one to admit being wrong though.
"No, Dawson!" she protested. "My GPA won't be able to survive another absence and I have Mr. Stinson's crucial US History unit test..."
"You're certain?"
"I can deal. Trust me." Dawson slammed his locker shut and checked his wrist watch. Knowing he'd be late he still walked with her to her first hour to make sure she got there alive. Screw English, he thought.
"Um, where's Pacey?" Joey inquired suddenly, not seeing him at or around his locker. To be honest, she felt kind of offended. If he was skipping again, she would've gladly gone with him. On the other hand, he kept himself pretty closed off anyhow. They were both guilty of that. It was their way.
She did remember the one time when he told her of his little league nostalgia, as if she didn't remember. She was there with her mom and dad, and Dawson and his parents, in the stands as always. They were always more supportive than his real family - with the exception of his mom, of course. His dad was just too involved with Doug, Doug was just too involved with Doug and his sisters for the most part were just self-serving bitches that had more important things to do... like guys.
"Pacey... he woke up and puked. Maybe you got this bug from him," he joked. When they reached Chem, Dawson left for class after giving her a supportive hug.
For the first half of the class period, Joey was wide-eyed and painfully awake. How could she be otherwise, considering how arctic it was in the classroom? The second half was another story... her mind started to drift and the words in her book started to blend together, as if she was going cross-eyed. Joey started to consider the idea that maybe it was pointless to be there physically and not mentally because she hadn't understood a word of the lecture.
By third period, Joey had had it. She was sniffling and hacking throughout the history test so as soon as she handed it in, Mr. Stinson gave her a blue pass to the nurse's office.
She looked sullenly at the plump nurse who was completely unaffected by the pale teenage girl standing in front of her. She'd seen tons of kids turning green and exploding this morning, this one was no different. Nurse Unqualified directed her to the sick room, her face expressionless.
"Heartless bitch," Joey muttered under her breath, wallowing in self pity.
"Another sickie," a random guy lying in one of the cots wheezed. God, she couldn't stay here! She'd catch something she didn't even have yet! But she was stuck. Bessie or Bodie certainly wouldn't pick her up in the middle of the work day in only their second week of operation.
The only person left to call was... Pacey. She knew he'd be well enough to pick her up and she wanted to fool herself into thinking he was her last resort - even if he was - but she did like having another excuse to spend more time with him. They always had fun in their own weird, twisted, passive/aggressive way and though he was still a doofus, it was safe to say they'd broken into the ranks of being full-fledged friends of late. Full-fledged, dysfunctional friends. Joey decided upon it and shuffled up to the cream-colored free phone near the bathroom to dial him up.
The phone rang at Pacey's and it startled him. He shakily put his bowl of soggy Lucky Charms on the coffee table, kicked off the afghan around his legs and turned down The Today Show with the remote.
"H'lo?" he answered gruffly.
"Pacey?" Joey's voice was weak. Her headache was intensifying by the second and she wasn't on the Tylenol list, so she couldn't receive medicine from the school. She wondered if she'd woken him up.
"Joey?" Pacey stayed on the line, expecting her to say more than his name, but when she didn't, he started in again. "You need something? Because I'm kinda busy being bored."
She replied with a nasty cough.
"Whoaaa there, you okay? You sound as shitty as I do," he said softly.
"No, I feel as wretched as I sound... I can't stay here at school... Do you- do you think you could-"
"Yeah, sure, I'm on my way, meet me out front in 5 minutes," he cut her off abruptly and hung up. "Thank you, influenza." Pacey smiled big, squished his sneakers half-on, grabbed the keys to the Witter wagon jeep and zoomed out the door.
Joey sat on the front steps of the school with her elbows resting on her knees. She involuntarily smiled at the ground thinking of Pacey's impressive response to her being ill. Honestly, she knew he cared about her, just never really knew he cared like that. But he was also the worst driver she'd ever had the displeasure of riding with, illustrated as he zoomed into the closest parking spot possible and nearly knocked the Visitor Parking sign completely over. She could just see the headlines now. JOEY POTTER: THE RIDE OF HER LIFE.
Pacey was pretty proud of himself being so punctual and honked the horn repeatedly to make sure the other students would turn around in their classrooms and look out the window, crazy jealous. Making a face as he witnessed her hobble towards the car like an elder he considered carrying her honeymoon-style to the car, if he wasn't so weak himself. Then he laughed to himself. That'd be weird.
Joey clambered in, put on her seatbelt and immediately pulled the side lever to recline the chair as far as it could go. She rested the back of her hand on her forehead to block the brightness of the bright gray morning clouds that covered the sun completely. Pacey rolled his eyes at her dramatic southern belle pose but reached over the gear shift and lightly touched her arm, "Hey, I guarantee you'll live. There is light at the end of the tunnel."
"You're sending me straight towards that light then. You're the one who infected me with this devil virus," Joey jutted her jaw, peeked out with one eye from under her arm and shot back. Why was it so cold in the car, she wondered. She could see her breath dissipate around her in a curling smoke.
"Did I ask you to chug my Pepsi like a frat boy? Noo... Look, I'm sorry if you're feeling extremely fluish and have apparently acquired a severe and bitchy side effect, but this wasn't my doing." He motioned towards her bulky outfit and grimace to emphasize his point and then his eyes went immediately to the road again.
"Well apparently you've never been graced with the flu before because, newsflash Pacey, this isn't the flu. If this was the flu, you'd be totally bed-ridden because every single muscle and bone in your body would ache like no other. You certainly wouldn't be up to driving. This is something new, horrible and confusing. I can't decide whether I want to run laps or faint into an oblivion. In any case, I think this is your doing, Not-So-English patient." Joey looked out the window at a fat man in a jogging suit and then secured her scarf around her neck.
"I rescued you from the hell otherwise known as Capeside High's very own leper colony and all you are capable of doing is slicing into me? Scaling new heights of Mount Ungrateful, are we?" Pacey said as he briefly glanced up into the rear view mirror and changed lanes.
She just sighed and positioned her coat over herself to get warmer. It was freezing.
"No. I take it back. You're also getting skilled at pissing me off."
"Turn on the heater. I feel like meat in here." Joey's face contorted in discomfort and extreme annoyance. The digital clock blinked 1:10 but it hadn't been set for daylight savings, so it was only 12 something in reality.
"No way, it's broiling," he said even though he eventually switched the heater on to high for her. "Fine. God forbid you reach up and do it yourself. Wouldn't want you to Andromeda Strain yourself or anything." The gust outside was so strong, you could hear it. It whooshed the car from side to side like a Hot Wheel and now Pacey kept extra-tight grip of the wheel. "Station selection suggestions now. I say classic rock."
"Alternative it is."
"Haven't you heard of a little thing named compromise, Miss Daisy? You can try, but ya can't argue with Oldies." Pacey rotated the old dial till the red nub landed on 94.9. "This song is awesome," he remarked and turned it up. "It's the time of the season...." Pacey sang out in a voice that wasn't his. Joey laughed a little. It wasn't a good idea because it kind of hurt to do so... not that she cared.
"Oh my god!" Joey exclaimed suddenly, causing Pacey to jump in his seat.
"What?!" He screeched the car to a halt, thankful there was no one behind them. "What- what is it?"
"Pacey, pay attention, will you!? You almost hit a cat! A black cat. It's an omen. I know it." Pacey looked up from her and to the road at a cat walking leisurely across the road. Damn cat.
"Will you please keep your omens to yourself while I'm driving? This road isn't exactly utopian," he said impatiently and took his foot off the brake.
"Neither are your driving skills," she said collecting her breath.
"Look, do you want to take the wheel, Stick-Shift-Barbie? I didn't hit it, that's what matters. I'll be extra careful from now on, promise. How about a little brunch for the ailing? Mickey D's? My treat," he peered sideways at her. Joey did her best to glare and keep a straight face but quickly spun her head away and made her hair fly in his face. "Come now. You better answer... don't make me serenade you with 'Love Me Tender.' Don't be cruel."
"Okay, okay..." she pursed her lips, fighting their upward curve, as if she was denying with all her might that there was any kind of smiling action taking place on her face.
"More like it," Pacey nodded, as his mouth split into a wide grin.
"And you bet your ass it's your treat." Joey's face broke into that reluctant smile again, but she bit her lip and turned away once more to shield it from his view.
They drove past the yellow arches and veered into the drive-thru. Pacey yelled out the orders for the old raspy man at the intercom, but his voice cracked with the falsetto of 10 pubescent boys, so they decided that Joey and her powerful lungs give it a try.
Unfastening her safety belt, she got on her knees, grabbed onto the driver's side window and leaned over Pacey, who wasn't complaining. Joey's slender neck was right so near his mouth and she smelled so sweet and intoxicating. As much as he fought it, his body quickly responded. His eyes rolled up in the back of his head, she smelled incredible. Her breasts rested lightly on his left arm for a moment and he sat on his hands to prevent him from losing it and touching her. "Holy shit..." he breathed helplessly, hoping she hadn't heard. Maybe she'd take it as a sign that she was hurting him... She was.
The heat from Pacey's body radiated through her clothes and she didn't feel so frigid anymore. Quite the opposite, in fact. Joey heard him wince and took it as a sign that maybe she was cutting off a major vein... Her legs tensed up, which only made her position even more awkward, so he wiggled beneath her till she was in a somewhat comfortable position. She freaked herself out that she was gaining the slightest sort of pleasure from the closeness and chalked it up to PMS. Or something. "2 Big Breakfasts! Yeah! And 2 small coffees! Oh and a small fries! Yeah that's all, thanks."
The heat shut off as they rounded the corner. Joey had turned it off. "I'm really-You're right, it um, it is kinda hot in here." Pacey felt the icy breeze from the window he rolled down all the way, and with Joey... off of him, he was feeling chilly now himself. Tiny flakes of snow started to fall on Joey's side of the car, which wasn't covered by the awning, and he clicked on the windshield wipers.
At the window the man and Pacey exchanged the food for the money and the man gave him a long, odd stare. Pacey was, after all, only wearing a pair of baggy charcoal-colored sweatpants and a faded, bluish-gray, Big Dog t-shirt.
They approached the crosswalk and Pacey grabbed a fry from the bag without looking. They agreed that fries always tasted better in the car, for some unknown reason. Together, they finished up the little bag of fries before they reached the third stoplight.
"Uh, my house is that way... Where the hell are you taking me?" Joey asked, whipping her head around. They were going the opposite direction of her house. She hovered over the steam from her black coffee and took a small sip that burned the tip of her tongue.
"Makeout point …where do you think? Home. Casa. My house. No way I'm gonna swing by your house and then go back. I'm too tired." Pacey gathered his breath, only realizing now how much effort it took to lie to her face. After all, he'd only done it three times at the most. The radio skipped a few beats before sailing into 'Brown-eyed Girl' and she turned it up.
"And your parents won't care if I come over why?"
"They just don't care, period. Plus, my dad's staking out some warehouse and my mom is visiting Grandma in Boston," Pacey said.
"Oh." Joey positioned her seat upright again and didn't object. It seemed like her headache was melting away with the snow on the window.
"You know, Jen's out sick today too."
"Really? That sucks.... Illness aside, how is Jen? Lord knows you know her better than I do, what with your pacts and all," she added briskly.
Pacey knew to ignore her underhanded, under-the-breath comments. They were just as much her defense mechanism as smart-mouthed ones were his. "She's good. Actually, have you met her new maybe-beau? Quite the persistent young freshman."
"Ah, her very own personal Urkel, I see. Lucky her." He chuckled. "Wait a second," Joey turned her body at the waist and fished around in the back seat pulling out an old black book with gold lettering. "I have an overdue book in my bag - can we swing by the library real quick? Since it's right here."
"Sure thing." He signaled and parked near the library. They ate their clumpy clusters of scrambled eggs and syrup-covered pancakes with the cheap McD's plasticware quickly, watching traffic pass by on the main road. Afterwards, Pacey pulled on a fleece jacket lying in the backseat and his stomach grumbled, a little queasy from the Big Breakfast. Walking up the concrete steps with little shimmery flecks in them, Joey's hair whirled around her face and their cheeks grew rosy from the cold.
Both strolled in and Pacey went up and down the aisles judging books by their covers while Joey went up to the front desk to return the Freud book she checked out a month ago. Freud. Maybe she was brushing up on her sex theories, Pacey grinned. He breezed past the aisle containing The Joy Of Sex. That was the last thing he needed to read before getting in the car with her again. Hmm, this one looks interesting, Pacey thought. The worn, purple book spine read Nifty G- and the rest was covered by the call number tab. Nifty Girls? The cover read Nitty Gritty. Pretty obvious what his mind was on. Still recovering from Joey's McDonald's order.
Joey made her way up to the book deposit bin and dropped it in. She'd been studying some Freudian theories because Bessie's Danielle Steel novels were wearing pretty thin on her patience and intelligence. Ahead of the counter, she smirked to see Pacey skimming the shelves in the Sex Tutorial aisle. She suddenly broke out laughing.
"Is something funny?" the librarian looked at Joey like she was psychotic and put her hand up to her poodlesque, beehive-ish 'do.
"No," she said, watching Pacey come on to the display mannequin modeling a girdle for a period book. "Hi, doll," he put his arm around it smoothly.
Approaching him from behind, she poked his back with her finger harder than she intended.
"OW!" Pacey said in his outside voice and the librarian nearby reminded him to use his inside one. "Easy, tiger." Man, sick or not, she was still powerful.
"Since we've made this super-regression week, we might as well complete it. Act half our age and all..." There was a glint in her eye that he hadn't seen in a long time.
"Which would make us," he paused, "7 and a half?"
"Did you divide that all by yourself?" she said with faux awe.
"And how do we go about doing that?"
What possessed Joey to do what she did next she'll never know. Probably the illness acting... maybe she was going schizo. Quickly, she tagged his arm and ran past three tall bookcases behind him. "You're it."
Overcoming the shock and amusement, Pacey came after her with a smile and veered into dead end after dead end. They tried so hard to keep their laughter silent but sputtered a couple of times darting in and out around the new computer lab and through the lounge, making it easier to track each other. Two musty librarians finally grew tired of chasing and shushing them both so they asked them politely to leave. "Sorry, sorry, our bad," Pacey apologized profusely but laughed under his breath and ushered Joey out the door. "See? Consequences shmoncequences."
The biting cold hit them like a brick wall when they swung the glass doors open and started down the steps. Before they headed home, Joey insisted they visit the swings on the playground across the street. "Please?" she purred and grabbed his arm with both hands.
"Yeah, how 'bout we not? I think you're faking sick, that's what I think. Listen, I know how badly you want to spend every waking hour with me, but you could've picked a more opportune time... say, when I didn't feel like puking up a lung."
"Oh yeah, Pacey, I don't think I'll be able to keep my pants on much longer," she feigned yawning and pushed him away.
"I'm joining yearbook just so I can quote you on that one." Pacey looked back at her, his ears already furiously red. "Alright. But on the next available occasion, we're going along with my snowy day activity."
"Not if it has the word 'strip' in it, we won't." Joey slipped her gloves on over her numb fingers and Pacey shoved his hands in his big corduroy coat pockets.
The awful metal chains of the swing numbed Pacey's hands and his ass literally stung from the cool plastic seat, but he swung anyway. Joey however was dipping in and out of the tire swing trying to get situated. He got up from his seat and decided to help her out. "Amateur. You stick both legs in the middle, remember?"
She did so and he pushed her forward and spun her around till she felt more sick than before, but in that delightfully dizzy way. From the fact that the world was spinning, they decided they'd both had enough of that - and after Pacey got all the sand out of his shoe, they began the trek back to his house. He had absolutely no problem starting the car again... it only stalled 7 times.
Joey hadn't been to Pacey's since they were about 8 or 9. She tried to recall what the house looked like, but all that was coming to her were memories of the fishing trophies Doug and his dad kept in the living room in a giant display case and their new little black Labrador puppy. Pacey wanted to call it Spike, but his sisters outnumbered him and called the poor dog Pookie. It was a boy dog, for God sakes! Back then, she thought Spike was a far better choice and she still did. Shivering, she and pulled her peacoat around herself again. Pacey turned up the heater.
The rocks underneath the tires crackled as they drove up to the house and into the garage. Their Christmas lights were still up, the snow was sticking fast and the driveway was blotchy white. Pacey loved how even the crappy houses in the neighborhood with the peeling paint and uncleaned gutters looked just like everyone else's when it snowed. Everything looked like a postcard.
They shook off their sneakers at the door and stepped inside. Joey looked around inside and memories came flowing back to her one by one. The lights were off and the blinds were drawn, so the house was dark, but the same old couch was sitting in the middle of the room. There was the same 70's style kitchenette, home of Mrs. Witter's famous "food" disasters. The same old trophy case leaned against the north wall, only now it seemed tiny because Joey'd certainly sprouted a few feet since 8. Their big 80's TV trimmed with wood where they'd watched many a classic episode of Sesame Street, was still right in front of the couch. In fact, there was a lot of wood around that Joey could just picture his mother spraying Pledge all over. She laid her coat on the couch and surveyed the room, picking up framed pictures of the Witter family. Only two of Pacey, she noted - one with his father when they caught that giant fish the year before and one when he was little, forced to pose with Doug on a moped against his will.
As she looked around, Pacey disappeared into his room and snatched an oversized navy sweatshirt out of his middle drawer, just in case she needed it later. He on the other hand, thought he was going to drop like a fly, it was so hot. And he was still baffled as to why she didn't stick it out at school. Instead, Joey called him. It was good to know she knew he was there for her whenever she needed him, but what did she care if she polluted the school with strep? She said herself on many occasion her classes were full of assholes. More importantly, how long was it going to be till she'd tell him she wanted to go home? Not soon he hoped. He walked out of his room and flung her the sweatshirt which she promptly put on. "Thanks."
"No problem." They plopped themselves down in front of the TV with their feet resting comfortably on the table, much like Pacey had done this morning. He launched into an explanation of the beauty of daytime television and Joey sat trying to listen intently and keep a straight face. He made hand gestures and his brow scrunched up in the sexiest way. Pacey? Sexy? She felt her forehead. Must be fever. She finally pretended to nod off, rested her head on her shoulder and snored. He chuckled, "Okay, I get it."
The View came on and they turned it off. In their considerably weakened states, their minds couldn't tolerate such crap. It wasn't even entertaining crap, just crap. Pacey opened the plain wooden door to his room and Joey had to step in between the clothes (which he insisted were clean) strewn all over the shag carpeting. "Lovely. Where do you keep the pigs?" she peered in his slovenly closet. It was such a boy's room.
"Hey, not everyone gets to have their bedroom remodeled everyday, missy," he said while picking up a few items and throwing them in the hamper. He had a blue and grey comforter and numerous posters around his room. Tom Green poster above his headboard and a Bruce Springsteen one on his closet door, a far cry from Hook and 1941. "Girl Scout cookie?" Pacey offered and held out the neon orange box.
Mmm... Caramel Delites... she thought. No, better not. She put her thumbs in her jean's back belt loops and slumped her shoulders. "I'll have to pass. At this rate, I'm going to be the next 600-pound woman the firefighters have to cut out of her house on Springer." Joey'd already bought a whole batch from Chris Wolfe's little sister and her family was consuming them at an alarming and unhealthy rate. What, were there addictive drugs in those things?
"I saw that one! But for some reason, I just don't see a miu-miu-wearing, bed-ridden, fried chicken-eating life ahead of you, Joey," he said simply as he munched on a Samoa. She was thin as a rail and curvy in all the right places and it bugged him to no end when she ragged on herself. In fact, she could be a freaking model if she had better posture and didn't completely lack self-esteem.
Pookie wandered into his room and began to sniff up Joey's legs and lick her shoes. Joey stood stiff until Pacey pulled him off of her, shook the dog's head and scratched his ears. "Don't be such a wuss, Potter. Relax, he's harmless."
"Yeah, Cujo's charming," she spat. She wasn't so sure Pookie would remember her, considering she couldn't remember this house.
"There's uh, there's nothing to do in here... Ooh, I have an idea," Pacey rubbed his hands together craftily. The beautiful scene outside inspired him.
"Oh no," she groaned, "an idea? You do not have a good track record with 'ideas.'"
"Hush, woman. You're not having your cold flashes right now, are you?"
"I'm burning up actually..." Joey furrowed her brow sensing an impending plan.
"Then I believe it's snowman time!" he declared as he took her wrist and led her down the hall to the living room again.
"What?!" they stopped and she asked him to clarify.
"Would you rather snow angels? Or a snowball fight? C'mon, there's snow and it's not meant to sit there and look pretty."
"No way. It's far too cold outside."
"Tough bananas! You just said you were hot! Another season, another reason, for makin' snowpeople," he proclaimed.
Joey's head tipped back in laughter. "What is wrong with you! You're demented!"
"I'm aware," he smiled and wouldn't take no for an answer. She snuck a cookie before they exited earning a nod of approval from Pacey. No existing human willpower can resist Caramel Delites.
"Oh and call me 'woman' again and we'll all be calling you the same," Joey added as they left the room.
They decided on snowmen and snow angels because what good were snowball fights when there were no neighborhood kids to face up against (not to mention kick the shit out of)? Plus they required significantly less effort and they were still 'sickies' after all.
It was the first snow in New England - no doubt the latest first snow of the year they'd ever seen. Pacey and Joey suited up with the necessary accoutrements. Gloves, check. Cute hat, check. Heavy coats, check. Big ass scarves, check. Carrot, check. Stepping out onto the fluffy front lawn, they felt their age instead of say, in the middle of a mid-life crisis for the first time in a long time and not only planned on absorbing that feeling with every bone in their bodies but fully intended on making it last.
"See? It's nice out. And if you get cold, just say the word, and we bolt back inside," Pacey guaranteed.
"Fine, but if hypothermia plagues me, I swear I'll haunt you," Joey scowled, even though she'd already begun gathering snow in her gloved hands.
It was just past three o'clock now and the sun was peeking out through the clouds periodically. The snowflakes had gotten larger since morning and the only sound was of snow falling, which was no sound at all. It was Pacey's favorite part of winter weather - the calm before the storm.
They rolled a giant ball and packed on more snow once they got it stationary, then two more on top. Soon, it was time to add the carrot, two perfectly round rocks from the driveway and two long sticks snapped from the big oak that she, Pacey and Dawson used to climb. Pacey poked the ice sculpture in the sides with them carefully. "The guy needs his arms to wrap around his snowhoney."
Joey sat on the steps and shook her head while she watched Pacey shake hands and attempt to make conversation with their guy of snow. She was tired already, but he was like an Energizer bunny today. Even sick, you couldn't keep him down.
"Get up! We're making snowangels like we planned."
"I'm tired! Make one yourself," Joey whined.
"A deal is a deal is-," he picked her arm up and tried to pull her up, but she felt like lead, "a deal." When she protested a second time, Pacey picked her up kicking and screaming and slam-dunked her into a snowdrift just like a basketball. Laughing and cursing, she sat beside him and wagered on who would form the better one. "But you have the advantage... I'm no angel," he grinned wide.
"Oh riiiight. Your angelic ass is mine, Witter." They stood and surveyed their work. Naturally, Joey's was deeper on the right side because she'd kept on leaning over sideways to look at his. Pacey did a little victory dance and nearly tripped over his oversized pants.
"Ahh yeeahh, who's the man? I believe that's me!"
"I don't see a man anywhere," she mock pouted and threw an iceball at his chest.
"Well, you don't have to be a fetus about it." In an attempt to make up the small loss, Pacey dragged his foot across the unused space and drew her full name in the perfectly smooth snow in large, crude letters. Right as Joey got up to examine it, something furry ran over her feet and she screamed, and when she screamed Pacey screamed. As soon as they saw Pookie scamper across the lawn and ruin it, they both felt extremely foolish.
With time to kill, they rolled out two rusty bicycles from the garage and rode up and down the street for a few, letting the wind carry them. The sky was grey and the chill in the air stung their faces like needles. The breeze still whirled them around but they swerved and sped down the hill and it was so much more exhilarating that way. Joey took this as an opportunity to ask him a mystery she'd been trying to solve for a while. "Doesn't it hurt?"
"When I... fell from heaven?" Pacey said as he tried to untangle his hands from the old streamers on the handlebars.
"Yeah, that's exactly what I said," she rolled her eyes. "No, moron, bikes. For guys. I mean, your goods must be damaged, if you know what I mean. Doesn't your crotch, like, kill?" Joey said with the frankness and audacity she once possessed. That was the first mere mention of sex or things involved since... she didn't even remember. She used to be so outgoing, in that spunky, smartass way, saying whatever came to mind. That's how she met Anderson. That's how she rid herself of Warren Geary and Grant Bodine, and that's how she used to converse with Pacey. Ever since she and Dawson had started playing tonsil hockey, she'd suddenly become shy about it - not that that was Dawson's fault . She just... she didn't know. But she was feeling like herself again, especially bantering with Pacey. It just came naturally.
"You just pick a side and you ride," he said smoothly. Only Joey would dare ask a question like that. Maybe since he hit puberty, he'd always found her feistiness incredibly sexy. And he'd always had sort of a thing for her. Not as strong as now... unrequited love had never bitten his ass this hard before - but from the time he relentlessly pulled her pigtails in 1st grade, he felt it. The undeniable attraction. Pacey turned around just in time to see the parked green Volvo he was about to slam into.
Their gear unloaded, they peeled a majority of their clothes off and tossed them into the dryer. He stood there in his boxers and t-shirt, and Joey in her jeans and the tank top she wore underneath her cardigan. Maybe going out in the snow while sick wasn't such a good idea. Pacey felt more feverish than ever and he immediately regretted undressing because the way he felt about her was just so much easier to hide with layers.
Joey thought she was delirious. Insane because because she'd been thinking of Pacey's arms and how he picked her up with such ease. She hadn't expected such strength from Pacey... Did she take any medication this morning, she asked herself. She did have to admit though, that today she was having the most fun she'd had all year... maybe ever. And the day wasn't even over yet.
It was about 2:40. Pacey picked up the cardboard box in the hallway filled with Campbell's cans and string beans that his mom bought in Y2K precaution for them to peruse and put away. "I am starving."
Joey grabbed two chunky chicken noodles and set them aside for lunch while Pacey clicked open the dishwasher for two bowls and spoons. "Why is that not surprising?" she said dryly.
"Ahh yeah, that's the stuff," he said appreciatively as he took the first sip. The soup didn't fill him up at all, but it was hot food so he couldn't complain. Joey inhaled hers then wiped her mouth daintily with a napkin. For dessert, he had a monstrous popsicle craving so he opened the freezer and stuck his head in.
"Get me one," she demanded. The cold made her voice raspier and he couldn't help but smile into the fridge thinking about it.
"Well, when you work your charm like that, how can I resist? Yeah - grape, orange or what?"
"Cherry?" she said and blushed as soon as the word escaped her mouth. Smooth move.
His ears turned the color of the popsicle as he handed it to her and returned to his original seat. Why hadn't he seen this coming? Now all there was left to do was witness.
She unwrapped it carefully as not to drip anything on herself and put her mouth around the tip, slowly licking it up and down. Oh sweet Lord. Pacey began to writhe in his chair with an excruciating look on his face, as if he was dying of pleasure and pain at the same time. Was he going to survive sitting here watching her... do that? It had to be karma, he thought, because now it was her turn to watch him squirm. Did she have any clue what she was doing to him? Obviously not, because Joey continued to stare into space, thoroughly enjoying her cherry popsicle.
The wind made the branches rattle against the windows. It was getting blustery outside and everything had a white haze. He wondered what would've happened if his parents were to come home - how they'd react to him having a pretty girl, in his house alone with him. But they knew Joey and how she would never do anything remotely... like that... with him anyway. Not to mention that his family never noticed him anyway. There was no reason for them to start now.
Joey positioned herself down on the couch ready to channel surf again. Blowing past some trash talk shows she settled on the news. Expected hail and sleet! It made her feel extra lucky to be warm, pretty happy and baby-free in Pacey's house, snickering. It wasn't that she didn't love Alex, but some days when he wouldn't cool down, she swore she'd drop kick him into the creek...
Feeling suddenly nostalgic, Pacey walked in with an armful of photo albums out from his parent's bedroom and Joey promptly smiled. "These oughta tide us over till Chip & Dale's Rescue Rangers comes on," he explained.
Starting with the big, brown leather-bound one in both their of their laps, she gazed at the photos while he was much more interested in her face. Joey suddenly exploded hysterically and he gave her a 'the hell?' look. She pointed to a unhappy little boy in a floppy pink hat sipping tea with his sister. "Is this little girl who I think it is?"
"Yes, that... that would be me." He looked down embarrassed, forgetting that was in there. "Never let it be said that Pacey Witter is no Mr. Sensitive," Pacey said ashamedly, "One of the pretty perks of having three sisters and a homosexual brother."
"I don't remember when you started that whole thing! You really shouldn't joke about that anymore, with Jack out and all."
"Listen, Jack's fine with it. And, if Doug was gay, I'd definitely be the most supportive. It's just something I say to get a rise out of him. Purely shits and giggles."
Joey nodded in comprehension. "I have a thing like that with Bessie," she smiled. "Well, it only worked when she was pregnant with Alexander. Bodie and I used to tease her about how gargantuan she was getting - kinda cruel, considering all of those mood swings and insecurities, now that I think about it..."
"Yeah, I see what you're saying..." Pacey said, now giving his brotherly teasing some serious thought, though Doug wasn't going through any emotional crises that he knew of. It all started out because he was always envious of Doug getting all that admiration and love from their father. When he was little, he swore he'd be "a police," but what was the use? He'd never get the love and admiration Doug had from the start, being the first born boy. Maybe it was time for that part of Pacey to grow up and let go of the fact that out of the five of them, he got saddled with the middle-child syndrome. But it definitely wasn't time to grow up. Not completely, not yet.
"But I am good at it. I mean, who could forget 'Oompa Loompa'?" Joey smiled.
"Classic," he laughed. Pacey turned the page and pointed out another. The three of them - Pacey, Dawson and Joey - trying in vain to give Pookie a bath. The dog was shaking while all of them blocked their faces with their pudgy little 3rd grade hands. "Is that a Kodak moment or what?" he asked her wistfully.
Joey pointed at the glossy one beside it. "That's us. The three dorketeers," she joked. In the picture, 10-year-old Pacey's arm was tight around both Dawson and Joey's necks and they didn't seem to mind. They gladly smiled big and cheesy for Mrs. Leery. Joey remembered her teensy, brief little crush on Pacey back in grade school, which she attributed to the time her parents made her watch When Harry Met Sally with them and considered the fact that they didn't get along either at first. Her palms went clammy and she discreetly recoiled them in her big sleeves. How embarrassing.
The pictures of all three of them were making Pacey feel even more guilty than he already did for having these weird feelings that he couldn't control. He knew Dawson and Joey mutually agreed to move on, but would he be betraying Dawson immensely if he were to take action? Would kissing Joey be like defying the law of gravity or something? Would he go straight to hell? Completely hypothetical of course. And him agreeing to that whole, 'Sure, Dawson - I'll keep Joey warm for you while you go out and about with Eve' thing was bad enough. To be patronizing enough to think she wasn't strong enough to handle rejection from the one and only Dawson Leery. But if it hadn't been for that, they might never have grown closer, so he was thankful for it. Not wanting to think about it further, Pacey jumped back into the conversation. "You mean you didn't think my jean jacket was the definition of cool?"
"What can I say, you just couldn't pull it off like Zack Morris could," she laughed, then coughed.
"Always had a thing for those blond boys, eh? Well, you're no Kelly Kapowski yourself."
As if on cue, the phone rang and Joey jumped up and walked behind the counter to answer it. "Hello?"
"Joey?" Dawson's surprised voice came loud and clear over the phone. "Uh, is Pacey there?"
"No, I'm jacking his house for all it's worth - of course he's here, hang on." Joey passed the phone to Pacey as she realized she should've let him answer it in the first place. It wasn't that they were doing anything wrong... but she couldn't understand why she was overcome with massive doses of heinous guilt for merely being there.
Pacey cleared his throat. He knew who it was the second she exchanged looks with him. It wasn't a good look, or a bad one, but he could just sense who it was. "Hey D, what's up?"
"Hey, I just called to say my mom won't let me out of the house to bring by your homework because it's extremely icy on the streets. She made me come home right after school and I've been here arguing with her about it for about an hour... So I thought I'd give you the page numbers for pre-calc. That's really the only class you need and you have all weekend to do it... so you picked Joey up from school?"
"Yeah, is that some kind of a problem?" Pacey said, though he really didn't feel he needed to ask his permission, his voice came across a bit defensively. "She called me from the nurse's office so I sped right over," he clarified himself in a better tone.
"Oh, just wondering." Dawson didn't care really, it was just... weird. "Um, okay, it's 256, numbers 21-41 odd."
Pacey jotted it down on a post-it and set it aside. If he wasn't so preoccupied with his conscience, he would've gagged at the thought of homework, or school for that matter, on a Friday afternoon. "I gotta go. Thanks a lot, man." He hung up and she and Pacey just looked at each other for a moment, but both skillfully recovered.
They milled around more bored than ever-and they refused to play any type of board game at all so Pacey suggested good old-fashioned prank calls, but with a twist. One of them gave the other a surprise number of a company with an extremely goofy name.
"Okay, got one. 555-4593."
"This better not be phone sex," Joey warned him, as she began to dial.
"No, no, of course not. The number for that is 1-9-"
She cut him off and waved her hand around. "It's ringing."
"Phones tend to do that."
A burly voice came from the end of the phone. "Hello, this is Big Greasy Monkey and I'm a greasy monkey. How can I help ya?"
Joey burst out and slammed the phone down immediately. "You are the definition of immature, Pacey. My turn, but this time, you have to keep the person on the phone as long as possible."
"With my dazzling people skills? No sweat." There was something about getting totally clueless people on the phone and keeping them there that Pacey found so exhilarating. He absolutely loved it and she could tell. Finding a satisfactory number, Joey covered up the black and yellow ad in the giant book and pointed at it. He speedily dialed and waited for someone to pick up.
"The Gap," a tired employee answered flatly.
"Hiya."
"Um, hi."
"Do you like Rainbow Brite?"
"Excuse me?"
"I'm the president of the Rainbow Brite Coalition and I've heard you like Rainbow Brite, so we were wondering if you were interested in joining our cause."
"Sir, can I help you with something pertaining to The Gap?"
"Oh God, please join! Or the rainbow gods will get angry and whip me with their rainbow whips!"
"What??"
"I said, my banana wants to talk to you. He's heard wonderful things about you. Hang on." Pacey held the phone to his chest. "This is great, you gotta do this next," he whispered. He was so enthusiastic he looked all of 7-years-old. Joey couldn't help but giggle silently as he unclasped his hand from the mouthpiece to speak up again. "He says you're very nice."
"Um, good."
"So. Does your green-striped sweater come in banana-size?"
"This is The Gap, sir," the voice grew more frustrated
"Yes, I've fallen into a gap and, coincidentally, I have a gap between my two front teeth. When can I schedule an appointment to get it filled?"
The Gap hung up. Pacey insisted she try it, but she got up to go to the bathroom, laughing. A few minutes later, Joey emerged and joined him on the couch while he checked out the news again. High wind gusts with speeds up to 70 miles per hour... The footage looked more much severe this time.
"Y'know, I don't think we can make it out of here tonight, Jo. The snow plows haven't even showed up on our main roads yet and it's pretty nastilicious. Yet another advantage of living in the middle of nowhere," Pacey turned his head to face her and pointed at the television with the remote and she sat down beside him, their thighs touching. He wasn't stretching the truth just to keep her there either. Capeside was smack in the middle of a seriously wicked blizzard and there was no way he could get to her house without skidding off the road.
"Are you suggesting I sleep here?" He put his index finger on the tip of her nose and tapped his own with the other hand. Joey stood up quickly. "With you?"
"Is that such a sin? It's not like I'm gonna try anything," Pacey drawled innocently and stood up as well.
Joey wasn't sure she could handle this. She'd had too much fun and enjoyed being with him too much to treat this normally - not to mention the fact that she was thinking about him in frightening new ways today.
"It really is too late - you should've said 'Pacey, get me the hell out of here' while you could. Now you're stuck with me," he reasoned. She sighed smiling, turned around and threw her hands up into the air, which he took as a yes.
Pacey's room was freezing now because it was at the end of the house and two walls were exposed and she was getting chills again. He suggested they'd put out blankets and sleeping bags in the family room and sleep left to right and Joey agreed. She'd slept platonically with Dawson for years. This wouldn't be any different... right?
The only light was coming from the kitchen and the flickering TV. Outside was pitch black and noisy. Hail was rattling on the roof and gusts of wind still made the trees knock heavily on the whole house like unwanted visitors. Joey called Bessie and told her the quarantine arrangement for tonight (which Bessie happily obliged to - she didn't want Alex to get infected) and Pacey tossed her a pair of flannel pajama pants along with his sister's old pink-trimmed Care Bears t-shirt to change into. He stood idly by, forgetting she was about to strip causing Joey to stare back at him. "You mind not ogling me? This isn't a free show," she whipped him with the pant legs till he reacted.
"Uh, yeah... sorry," he stuttered and turned around to hide his red face. "I think I have some change in my room though." He was trying really, extremely, very hard not to think of the possible ways she could've been naked behind his back.
She laughed and told him to shut up as she changed into the pants. Her bra was extremely binding and she couldn't tolerate it anymore, so she pulled it quickly out from her sleeve to wrap in her jeans. She gestured, raising up her bra-in-a-blanket. "Done."
The TV suddenly flickered off and they both looked at it. How polite that the power chose such a moment to go out.
"You wanna hit the sack?" he said, though he wasn't tired at all. It was only just before 9:00. He just wanted to avoid any more awkwardness, though he knew that wasn't possible. "Not like we can do anything now."
"Waaait a minute. If you sleep in the nude, I am out of here and I don't care if I have to walk home."
"Hey, though I am perfectly secure with my body, exhibitionism isn't my bag, baby. You on the other hand..." Pacey trailed off, teasing.
"You're implying it's mine?" Joey asked incredulously.
"You're quick."
"Delusions of illness. You have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh, but I think I do. I seem to recall many occasions on which we played naked football in the mud when we were kids, took baths together, went skinny dipping in the creek, uh..." His eyes went upwards as he thought of more evidence.
"Well, things have changed, Pacey. I have female organs now in case you haven't noticed." Joey took a seat on the ground atop a big green sleeping bag.
He'd noticed. Noticed was an understatement. If she thought he couldn't tell she was without a bra, oh how wrong she was.
He ignored her statement, which she took as another, 'Oh yeah! Joey's a girl! Forgot.'
"Relax, the Virgin Joey's eyes won't be tainted by my bulging manhood tonight, I promise. But do you mind if I take this off because I swear this room is like a sauna." Pacey proceeded to take off his shirt in one swift motion and wiped the sweat beading down the back of his neck. Joey gulped and stared down at his chest, smooth and defined. This was the closest she'd ever been to a guy this undressed since last summer, and Pacey and Dawson hadn't really filled out then, so that didn't count. But now... she... she hadn't realized. Turning away, she pretended to be really engrossed in the lint on the blanket.
"Is there a problem, Potter? You want me to-"
"No, I- of course there's no problem- don't flatter yourself," she snapped abruptly and obviously bothered as he sat on the couch and reclined. Nice Joey, she thought with self-loathing. First of all, he called it and she was mad about that. He was right; she was uncomfortable - and not even in an unpleasant way exactly. What a prude she was. And, once again, the boy/girl thing was going to get in the way of another friendship? Why did she have to get all John Hughes on everyone? The tension was so thick you could reach up and grab a handful of it.
Pacey soon joined her on the floor and seemingly went to sleep immediately... he was pretending after all and when he felt her eyes on him, he flipped over. She was such an easy target, yet she knew just how to get him back - he could always count on Joey to challenge him, keep him on his toes.
Joey propped her head up in her hand with her elbow and watched him sleep. Damnit. She was going to dip his hands in warm water, but ew, she had to sleep there and that wouldn't be pleasant. Ditto with shaving cream. She heard once that if you tell people things in their sleep, they respond or even do as you say. That notion seemed promising. She decided to give it a try, but as soon as she opened her mouth, he uttered something incoherent. He did it again, only this time a little clearer. Tentatively, she put her ear closer to his mouth until he thrashed and tossed. "Ohhh Joeyyy!" he exclaimed before he opened his eyes, chuckling.
"Buttplug!" She smacked him numerous times and then turned around.
A few minutes passed, and they faced opposite directions with their eyes wide open.
"Pacey... Are you awake?" she said quietly.
"Now I am," he lied, turning around. He'd been awake for a while.
"I'm hungry," Joey stated with less quiet and more whine.
"So your stomach informs me. Me too actually... we had a pretty light lunch."
They had the balance of eggs at this point. After struggling to get up several times, they remembered a way from grade school - they put their feet together at the soles, took each others' hands and pulled each other up simultaneously. Joey giggled under her breath at the mental picture of pudgy little Dawson trying this, falling over and always ending up with his legs swinging in the air like a turtle stranded on its back. They stumbled into the kitchen blinking through squinty eyes, trying to adjust to the light and their padded feet didn't make a sound on the linoleum floor.
"Let's take a peek at the Witter gourmet, shall we?" Pacey waltzed into the kitchen pulling open drawers and cabinets with ease. "We got Beanie Weenie, Spaghettios, SPAM..." he listed.
"I think I can whip us up a little something," she said nonchalantly.
"Didn't you like, flambeau the Thanksgiving turkey? Mrs. Ryan had to come through with a backup bird, remember?" Pacey opened the fridge and pulled out a Sunny Delight. He remembered that outlandish lie he told Dawson last year about Joey cooking for him and then their cozy trip up the coast to a B&B. That was right before he told Dawson, a bit bitterly if truth be told, to get over himself and make a choice because Joey obviously had.
"Bessie burned it. My mom, and Bodie for that matter, taught me everything I know, but I don't openly express that fact because if Bessie knew, she'd make me her food slave."
"And you didn't say something earlier because?"
"You didn't ask," she shrugged. "Okay, I just wanted soup." Joey also didn't want to mention that the last time she cooked for someone (Jack), it didn't turn out too perfectly...
"You waiting on me hand and foot. I like it."
"Ugh, please. I am not cooking for you, I just don't happen to enjoy foods with the word 'Weenie' in them so if you'll kindly get out of my kitchen," she pushed him into the living room where he found the couch again. Thank God the power was back on for the moment because he turned on late night Springer and wrapped the blue comforter around him. Christ, it was cold.
"How's spaghetti?" she called from the kitchen counter opening into the family room. Alright, Joey realized, so she was cooking a little for him. He'd done a lot for her today, a good meal wouldn't hurt.
"Spaghetti? Ooh, gourmet." Spaghetti sounded awesome, actually.
"Your kitchen resources are kind of limited, Pacey. Unless you have your whiny heart set on filet mignons, in which case I can do wonders with SPAM..."
"Point taken." This was so nice, he thought. Not Joey cooking for him, although that was definitely something he could get used to, but the fact that she'd stayed here this long, that she wanted to be here with him. As friends of course, but he'd decided a long time ago that he'd take what he could get.
While Joey waited for the water to come to a boil, she sat herself next to Pacey and exclaimed in hysterical horror, "This guy has bigger breasts than me!" She was referring to the drag queen in the leather bustier and whip on the show. They laughed out loud and it was a good thing it didn't hurt to laugh anymore, or she'd be on her way to the hospital. This was the epitome of delightfully unclassy television... Now she knew what he was talking about when he lectured her on the merits of trash TV. "I'm Cheating On You With a Transvestite" was written at the bottom of the screen in green cursive.
"First of all, no. Secondly, think of it like this. Whether his cleav is fake or not, it's sad either way," Pacey said. "Man, whenever I start to think my family is weird, I watch this and realize it's not so cataclysmic."
"Ditto. But, ugh, enough of this," she said and reached over him for the remote control. "I can only take so much before I get depressed that they actually have dates."
"You have such low tolerance, but you'll learn, my child," he put his hand on her shoulder which she glared at and then instantly shrugged off.
Pacey stayed in the living room and watched more television but finally even he couldn't stand it any longer. Though his tolerance was considerably higher than Joey's, even the master has to give it a rest sometime. He went upstairs in search for something mindless to do. The house was one-level and there were only two rooms upstairs: his oldest sister's and one was the spare that his grandparents used to stay in until they moved to Florida. He figured the latter would be the best bet for entertainment. As he made his way up, the power went out for a while.
"Pacey, c'mon, what are you doing up there?" Joey said from the kitchen.
"Not even within the realm of your business."
"Whatever," she called out as she added salt to the boiling water on the gas stove in the dark.
He went into the spare room and opened the closet with all of his grandparents' old clothes deciding to try on a collared shirt and a shiny grey pinstriped suit that looked so worn, he swore it could've survived the Ice Age. The lapels were so big he felt as though he was wearing reverse water wings. Walking over to the full-length mirror behind the door, he looked himself up and down and liked what he saw for once. He wasn't town slacker clown, Pacey Witter anymore. He looked like a famous actor getting ready to go before the cameras to play the role of distinguished European businessman and lover, the leading man. Pacey could dig it, he thought as he smiled at his reflection and the dim surroundings.
"The spaghetti's almost ready..." Whatever he was doing, she thought, he'd better get his little ass down there fast or the spaghetti would stick, and she may have forgotten his house, but she remembered that he loathed clumpy spaghetti. Joey wasn't wild about it either.
Pacey unhooked one of the ties that looked like a blue-and-red-flecked kite and looped it around his neck. He had to remember the technique his mom taught him when tying a tie. Over, under, then around... how'd it go again? Damnit. He struggled to make it look decent when he swung around he found a brown eyebrow pencil on the top of the oak drawer across the bed. Probably one of his sister's when she used to use Granny's big mirror to apply her prostitution makeup. Pacey couldn't believe he was doing it, but his transformation was complete - a moustache.
Soon he walked down the stairs and made his grand entrance. "Hello, gorgeous," he said and looked her straight in the eyes.
"My God," Joey gulped and stumbled backward a little. Her eyes bulged significantly and for a moment he thought she was going to drop the pot of spaghetti. She had set the dining room table and two leftover Christmas candles were burning in the middle of the table so it was pretty shadowy, and that made him look perfect.
"Spiffy, no?" he said suavely and rotated.
Getting over the initial surprise, she snerked at the drawn-in moustache - and she wanted to shoot back a snippy comment about Halloween, but she couldn't bring herself to. He looked pretty damn fabulous. And here she was in his homely sweatshirt and worn-out pjs, feeling the frumpiest she'd ever felt in her life. She took a deep breath. She wanted in. Two could play at this game - and there was no way in hell she'd sit down with him while he got to wear that. "Watch the sauce on the stove. I want to take a look around upstairs."
Joey peeked in one room and it was almost empty except for some dusty exercise equipment so she used her deductive skills to point her to the other one. She looked in one side of the dank closet and pushed aside several suits similar to the one Pacey had on until she found several beautiful vintage dresses. They were all pretty racy and she smiled to herself thinking of Pacey's grandma in any of these now - the image was pretty amusing. Joey undid the zipper of a tasteful red rayon dress, lay it on the quilted comforter and tried it on, but when she looked in the mirror, her boobs were almost hanging out. So then she tried a wool blue, form-fitting dress with a turtleneck, but that was too unracy for her taste. She wanted to look as good as he did. Finally, she opened up a trunk at the foot of the bed and lifted up the most gorgeous pale yellow dress. How very Cinderella. She slipped it on, secretly praying it'd fit her and it did, perfectly, except for a temporarily stuck zipper. For effect, she swept on some makeup from a drawer, stuck on some heels she'd found in the closet and grabbed a giant flower off the dresser and pinned it in her hair. Never in a million years did she think she'd ever do something like this. It was crazy, but she loved the person she was with Pacey, all the insane things she did when she was with him.
The sauce had come to a boil four times and he had to keep shutting off the heat because the red goo was spilling over the edge of the pan. He sopped some spillage up with a paper towel and slammed it into the trash can. "Hurry up, will ya, Jo? This is getting messy!" his panicked voice came from downstairs. She figured he'd already flamed the kitchen down and put out the fire by now.
"Cheer down, I'm coming," Joey's voice came from the bedroom, as if he didn't know what she was doing.
He finally shut off the stove and went into the living room. Pacey planned to put the TV on for the umpteenth time that day, and he was mad as fuck because the spaghetti was congealing in the pot and if ever there was a thing that blew, it was congealed spaghetti. On top of that, he remembered the power wasn't back on and the TV was completely unresponsive to the remote. He sat tapping his feet and twiddling his thumbs like he was waiting impatiently for his dinner date.
"Good evening, Mr. Witter," came this sexy voice from the stairs.
She stood there and Pacey couldn't believe his eyes. He knew she had been rummaging through some of Granny Witter's old rags but he hadn't expected that she'd owned things this nice. Joey stood wearing the satin gown with thin straps and a neckline that was the lowest she'd ever worn... and makeup and high heels and a giant light pink flower in her hair. She looked like one of those random beautiful girls in the paintings starving artists on the docks sold during tourist season. She looked amazing.
"You look... wow," he said searching for his breath. He never knew a simple dress and a single smile could be so mesmerizing, so... erotic.
Joey licked her lips and smiled wider. "Yeah?" she said slowly, disbelieving but pleased.
But then Pacey did something unexpected. He let out a growl and started toward her. Her mouth dropped open in shock. He took one step toward her and she automatically took one step backward. She almost tripped on her dress when she squealed with laughter and ran back up the stairs with him right after her.
"Stop it, Pacey! You're not being funny here, you're not!" her voice was shaking with laughter, not to mention the stomping up the stairs.
"I am a handsome European businessman, and you are in love with me!" he said in what he thought sounded like a damn good European accent. Not from anywhere specific, just European, for sure.
Joey tried to hold the creaking wooden door to the bedroom shut, but his strength forced it, and she ran to the far side so there was only the bed between them.
"Come to me, my darling!" he outstretched his hands in a wildly dramatic way.
They were both laughing so hard they could hardly speak.
"One kiss is all I ask!"
She went for the door, but unsuccessfully because he caught her and threw her on the bed.
"One kiss!"
"Pacey, you ass, quit it right now. I'm not kidding!" Joey started laughing again, right in his arms. He planned on squelching it with a kiss and gently lowered himself on top of her but stopped short. She licked her lips again. Her hair surrounded her flushed face and her soft red lips was so close to his, he swallowed a groan. They just looked at each other, confused, chest to chest, face to face, and somehow they weren't acting anymore.