March 26. He kissed her, and she let him. Not only that, but after a moment of surprise, she was kissing him back, her mouth moving beneath his. Her lips were warm and yielding as he pressed his mouth against hers. Her hands gently held his arms. He never wanted this to end, the moment to cease, but like all good things, it did.
He pulled back and gazed down at her face. Affection for her filled his heart. He had never felt this way before, not with anyone. For an instant her gaze lifted to his and he felt the now familiar jolt, like a bolt of electricity, surge through him. Her lips were swollen from his kisses. Her eyes were heavy-lidded with desire. Those eyes locked on his, and then she reacted. Badly.
Joey lashed out, striking him, and he was shoved backwards. "Are you insane?! How could you do that? How could you take a simple declaration of friendship as an invitation to just maul me, Pacey?" She hit him again, shoving him back. "Answer me! What were you thinking?" Another hard blow, his chest stinging with the pain of it. "What?!"
He started panicking. How could he save this situation? He hadn't wanted to ruin anything, but now it seemed like he was on the verge of ruining everything. He'd always known there was a chance she would react badly to any declarations he made, but for some foolish reason he hadn't given up hope that there was a slight chance she might react well. He'd never imagined she would become so angry she would physically attack him.
He tried to act like it wasn't a big deal—it had been an impulse and nothing more, but this didn't appease her. She continued striking him. "Do you have any idea of the monumental implications of that meaningless little impulse?" she stormed.
"You're right, Potter," he muttered, feeling increasingly deflated by the second. "Forgive me for thinking a kiss is just a kiss." Except it wasn't, he wanted to shout at her. It wasn't just a meaningless kiss that meant nothing. It had meant everything.
And then she threw the very thing in his face that he'd been trying to avoid for a long time: Dawson. He'd distanced himself from his best friend for months, had avoided personal conversations and spending too much time together. He hadn't wanted to face it. He knew what his feelings for Joey threatened. As much as he cared for her, and Dawson too, the fear of destroying their friendships was ever present.
"I mean, he factors into this little… hormonal meltdown," she fumed.
"'Meltdown?'" He retorted. He wasn't exactly shocked at the rejection, but this? "I just had a meltdown? Forgive me if I don't think that this is the worst tragedy in the history of humankind—that Pacey Witter, in a moment of… impulsive, compulsive, hormone-induced insanity, would have the nerve to kiss Joey Potter. And you let me do it," he accused, pointing at her. She gasped at his accusation, but didn't deny it. "You did. You let me do it. So, what, now? I guess the universe begins to unravel. Well, excuse me while I get in the car." He suddenly wanted nothing more than for them to forget it ever happened.
After she refused to get in the car with him, he pulled up alongside her and again tried to coax her into the vehicle. Common sense then ruled out her anger and she got back inside, immediately turning completely away from him in dramatic fashion without saying a word. "So, I guess I'm to take it from your angry silence that you're not speaking to me anymore."
Joey buckled her seatbelt, throwing him a dirty look. "Nope."
"Great. And how long you planning on keeping that up?" God knows she could only keep her mouth shut for so long.
"How does indefinitely sound?" She sneered.
"Fine."
"Fine."
They drove the rest of the way to the Potter Bed and Breakfast in broody silence. Part of him wanted to rectify what he had done, to try and do everything he could to convince her that it was no big deal. To convince her that it would never happen again, that it wasn't worth getting so upset about. Another part of him was angry and hurt at the rejection, at the vehemence of her reaction, especially since he technically hadn't been the only participant.
When he pulled up in front of the house, Joey unbuckled her seatbelt and made a scene out of retrieving her overnight bag from the back seat. She stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut. "Jo?" he called out.
She turned back and glared at him.
"Why did you kiss me back?"
Her eyes widened. He saw emotions flicker across her face—shock, fear, uncertainty. Her mouth then pursed into a hard line. "I didn't," she denied angrily.
"You did, Potter!" he said triumphantly. "I felt it! You know you did!"
Joey turned on her heel without another word and stormed inside the house.
Then he drove home to drop off the wagon. To his surprise, Doug's police cruiser was parked outside the house. He carried the keys to the car inside. He was greeted by his mom, still wearing her bathrobe. "Thanks for bringing the car back, sweetie, but I honestly didn't expect you so early. Do you want to stay for breakfast? I'm going to make bacon and eggs, hash browns, and homemade biscuits."
"Uh… I don't know, Ma. Maybe."
The sound of Carrie and the girls watching TV was emanating from the living room. He found Doug and his dad standing in the kitchen drinking coffee. "And where did you go in the middle of the night?" his brother asked, arching a brow.
"Joey needed me to pick her up in Boston," he answered. "It was either that or sit in a train station by herself for eight hours. So, I went and got her." He heaved a sigh, feeling miserable.
Doug eyed him with a penetrating gaze. His brother opened his mouth to reply, but he gave a slight shake of his head to silence him.
His mother walked into the kitchen. "Are you sure you won't stay for breakfast, Doug?"
"Sorry, Mom. I need to finish my shift. I'll eat later."
John Witter took a sip of his coffee, cleared his throat, and then stared at his youngest child. "So, how's work on your boat coming along, Pacey?"
He blinked, his chest and stomach tightening with anxiety, not sure where the question was going to lead. "Um… it's good. I expect to be finished in a few weeks, and in time for the Regatta."
"Well, let's hope the boat holds water better than you do," his dad snarked.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Pop." Inwardly groaning, he left the kitchen and walked into the living room. His nieces saw him and jumped up from where they were sitting on the floor in front of the television watching Nickelodeon. "Pacey, Pacey, Pacey!"
"Oh, God. It's the little monsters," he joked before sitting down next to his sister. "Hey, Carrie." Then he leaned his head back against the couch, closed his eyes, and sighed, "I'm exhausted."
It wasn't long before the girls were climbing into his lap. They snuggled against him, and their comfort and warmth quickly lulled him to sleep. Suddenly he was being shaken awake. He opened his eyes to find Doug standing over him. "You wanna go get some breakfast?" his brother asked. "How does Connie's Diner sound?"
Feeling groggy, he didn't answer right away. He yawned and looked around the room, getting his bearings. His sister and nieces were gone, and he was stretched out on the sofa. He looked up at his brother. "I thought you had to finish your shift?"
"I finished it," Doug said. "Pacey, you've been asleep for five hours. You wanna get something to eat?"
"Uh… yeah, okay. I could eat."
It was after eleven a.m. when they arrived at the diner and took a couple seats at the counter. After perusing the menu for a few minutes, he ordered sausage, pancakes, and scrambled eggs when the waitress came back around. His brother added cream and sugar to his coffee, and then finally spoke. "So… you wanna tell me what happened when you picked Joey up in Boston?"
His stomach knotted. "What makes you think something happened?"
Doug furrowed his brows in disbelief. "Pacey, it was written all over your face the moment you walked through the door this morning."
"Okay, fine," he surrendered as the waitress returned with their plates of hot food. "Where do I start? Well, the reason I was picking her up in the city in the middle of the night was because she and her college beau broke up. He had another girl up there. She was upset and I was trying to be… supportive, I guess. But then I ended up pulling the car over and… I kissed her."
"Hey, you kissed her," Doug said in a congratulatory tone. "Good for you."
Licking his lips, he adamantly shook his head. "No. No, it's not good."
His brother eyed him. "What'd she do? Slap you?"
"Uh, well, not at first. She kissed me back." His brother's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Yeah. I mean, I'm telling you, Dougie, it was a good kiss. Joey was actually, uh, kinda into it. I think. Well, for as long as it lasted. And then she totally freaked out. Started hitting me and yellin' at me. So, you know, classic rejection, and now she's not speaking to me."
"Ouch," Doug sympathized. "She probably just needs to get over the shock of it. Kissing a girl right after she was dumped? Eh…"
"The whole thing was her fault," he insisted defensively. "I mean, she told me that I was the one she thinks about. You know? Me. And then she gives me this look. What was I supposed to do? Do you know how long I've been waiting for her to give me that look?" He shook his head in exasperation and took a sip of his coffee. "I couldn't just stand there and do nothing."
Doug sighed. "Look, I don't get it. She gave you the look. You kissed her. It was a good kiss. So, what's the problem?"
Hadn't he been clear? "Well, the hitting, punching, and rejecting. That might be a bit of a problem. Not to mention, Dawson. If he found out that I kissed her? That Pacey Witter had the audacity to fall for Dawson Leery's soulmate? He'd never speak to me again. I can't risk that, you know? He's the brother I never had."
Doug then proceeded to rehash the plot of Speed where Joey was the bus, Dawson was the bomb, and he was Keanu Reeves. He appreciated his brother's efforts, but he saw no solution. "Well, you're right about one thing, Dougie. Dawson is a ticking time bomb waiting to go off as soon as he gets wind of any of this. I mean, what was I thinking? I fell for an impossible girl, knowing all along just how impossible it was. I brought this on myself."
His brother kept up the pep talk as they finished their breakfast, continuing as they walked out of the diner and towards the police cruiser. Doug encouraged him to 'defuse the bomb' and tell Dawson about his feelings for Joey, and he was thankful for such good advice. But even if that somehow worked, if Dawson, for the first time since Joey Potter walked into their lives, was suddenly now cool with being usurped by his best friend, that didn't mean she would be willing. "You've left out a couple minor details i.e. her hitting, her punching, her yelling—"
"Oh, grow up, little brother," Doug retorted. "Do you think she would've reacted so strongly if she didn't feel something for you, too?"
Was it possible? He followed his brother to the car. "Do you really think so?"
Doug sighed. "Pacey, that was a complete overreaction."
There was that word again. He climbed into the passenger seat of the cruiser and buckled his seat belt while his brother got behind the wheel. "Just think about it, Pacey," Doug continued. "When you kiss someone, who doesn't feel the same way—and they happen to be a good friend of yours and not, you know, a complete stranger who would be perfectly within their rights to be angry at a non-consensual kiss—the reaction could be awkward and uncomfortable. They might apologize for hurting your feelings or for possibly leading you to believe they felt something more than friendship, and they'll likely do their best to let you down easy. But they don't fly off the handle. They don't scream and punch you."
Doug's words went around and around his head on the short drive back to his brother's apartment. Soon he was dropped off, Doug heading back to the sheriff's office to finish up some paperwork. Once inside he picked up the phone and called his sister.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Gretchen."
"Hey, Pacey! How are you?"
"Uh… I kissed Joey."
"Good for you. How did it go?"
"Well, the kiss itself was…" He sighed, leaning his head back against the couch. "Incredible. Her reaction? Not so much."
"I'm sorry, Pace. What did she say?" His sister's tone became sympathetic. "She doesn't feel the same and just wants to be friends?"
He paused, the conversation with his brother fresh in his mind. "Um, well, no. She didn't say anything like that. But she got angry. She starting hitting me and yellin' at me, said I'd had a meltdown. Then she wouldn't talk to me the rest of the ride home."
Gretchen was silent for a moment. "How did Joey react when you kissed her the last time?"
Swallowing, memories from sophomore year came forward in his mind, of that night after the carnival when he'd kissed Joey in front of her house. "She… Well, she didn't get angry. It was awkward and she was uncomfortable, but she was pretty calm about it. She told me she didn't feel the same way. She was hung up on Dawson, of course. And… well, she was actually very nice about the whole thing even though she was rejecting me."
"And this time, Joey didn't actually tell you she didn't feel the same way, and instead she freaked out?"
Realization began to dawn on him. Butterflies once again started fluttering in the pit of his stomach. "Yeah. She freaked out."
His sister sighed into the phone. "Pacey, I'm willing to bet Joey now feels very differently about you than she did the first time you kissed her. Don't think of it as a rejection. I think she's just afraid."
"What do you think she's scared of?" he asked.
"Probably the same things you're scared of," Gretchen said.
What was he scared of? "Oh, you mean like pain, rejection, and disappointment. Taking a huge risk by falling in love again and possibly losing precious friendships, which of course means Dawson."
His sister hummed. "You have to tell Dawson, Pacey. Yes, he used to date Joey, but they were only friends for a long time before that and they're still friends now. You've been his friend even longer. He cares about you. You are important to him. Even if he doesn't like what you're saying to him, he'll just have to get over it if he wants you and Joey to be happy."
"Do you really think I could make her happy, Gretchen?" he murmured into the phone.
"I think you could make any girl happy, Pace. And perhaps especially a girl like Joey."
His brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
She cleared her throat. "Well, Joey's lost a lot, you know? She lost both her mother and her father at a young age, and under heartbreaking circumstances that will affect her for the rest of her life. You have a lot of love to give, and it's probably exactly what she needs. It's also very possible that on some level she knows this, Pacey, and it scares her. Someone who has already lost a lot is probably afraid of losing anything else."
Like losing Dawson's friendship. He didn't want to lose it either, but despite that fear, he'd still went for it with Joey anyway. Even if she did feel something for him too, it was more than likely that her fear of losing Dawson would prevent her from ever admitting it. Doug was right. He would need to find a way to somehow remove the threat of a falling out with Dawson. It would probably be the only way Joey would allow herself to act on anything. His heart sunk within him. He knew exactly how he felt about her, and if he was forced to make a choice, he knew what choice he'd make. He knew what he'd be willing to risk, to even give up. But he also knew that Joey wasn't one to take chances, and if she was forced to make a choice, he wasn't sure whether she would believe a relationship with him was worth the risk.
"You still there, Pace?"
"Uh, yeah. I'm just thinking."
"Look, maybe Joey just needs some time. You kissed her. So, she probably now knows, or at least has a good idea, of how you feel about her. You've certainly given her something to think about. If she doesn't feel the same as you do, then I'm really sorry. But if she does like you the same way you like her, then Dawson might not prove to be too big of an obstacle. Love conquers fear, Pacey."
"Thanks for listening, Gretchen." He sighed. "Anyway, how are you? What's going on in your life?"
Silence. "Um… oh, you know, the usual. Up to my eyeballs in term papers, and dreading finals. Look, I gotta go, Pace. I have to meet some friends. I'll talk to you later?"
"Yeah, okay. Talk to you later." He hung up the phone. His mind went back to the scene on the side of the road, to Joey hitting and shoving him after he kissed her. The one and only real objection she'd raised after her angry 'how could yous' was Dawson. He might've felt encouraged by the possibility that Joey might care for him if it wasn't for the guilt he had been trying to live with since he'd realized he was in love with his best friend's soulmate, the guilt that had grown exponentially since he'd acted on it and kissed her.
April. If the past week hadn't been the worst of his life, it was definitely in the top five. Joey hadn't spoken to him since he dropped her off home on Sunday morning. There was a time when sharing almost every class with Joey had been his favorite thing about junior year, but for the past five days it had been nothing but painful and excruciatingly awkward. She used to sit right behind him or in front of him or next to him in all their classes, but now she made a point to take a seat far away from where he sat. They didn't ride to and from school together or eat lunch together. She avoided him in the halls. It was clear the last thing she wanted was to be in close proximity to him.
The week had been hell without her. Without hearing the sound of her voice, the timbre of her laugh. Without seeing her smile at his stupid jokes, or frown in disapproval when he annoyed her. Without her soulful eyes looking into his with a fondness that he had never thought possible. Had he truly ruined everything? Was their friendship over? Could he imagine life without her? Every night since that fateful morning on the ride back from Boston, where he took a chance without thinking of the risks or potentially negative consequences, he'd lay awake, trying to imagine how his future would look without Joey being a significant part of it. It was a dark, miserable place. He wanted her. More than that, he loved her with a passion so great he knew he could never be truly happy with anyone else but her.
At lunch on Friday, while Dawson had been bemoaning the impending removal of the woods they had once spent entire summers in when they were kids to make way for condos, he'd decided to follow Doug's advice and proposed the idea of going camping. It was an ideal location that would remind Dawson of their bond, their lifelong friendship. It was why he was here on Saturday night, Buzz and his little friends and Dawson all sleeping soundly around the fire, while he lay awake, unable to sleep.
It was fitting that they'd gone camping on April Fool's Day because he really was a fool. He was a fool to think his friendship with Dawson was something he could readily give up if forced to make a choice. A fool to think there was a chance Dawson could actually give him his blessing to pursue a relationship with Joey. That Dawson wouldn't have seen his feelings for Joey as anything other than utter betrayal, a violation of the oath of loyalty they'd made as boys, as blood brothers. Hurting Dawson was the last thing he wanted to do.
Doug and Gretchen had meant well, and on the surface, they had given him good advice, but they didn't know Dawson like he did. Nor did they fully understand just how important Dawson was to him. He wouldn't have survived his boyhood without him. He wouldn't be the person he was now without him. He'd be a seventeen-year-old version of the Buzz he'd met on that first mentoring day, bitter and angry at the world, lashing out at everyone, not letting anyone close enough to hurt him ever again.
The sounds of the crackling fire and Dawson's slow, steady breathing filled his ears. Joey filled his mind—her smile, her laugh, her achingly beautiful brown eyes. The feel of her hand grasping his, her head on his shoulder, her arms pulling him into a hug. The feel of her mouth beneath his, warm and soft and sweeter than anything he had ever tasted. A love that could never be his tore at his heart. He stared up at the night sky, tears forming and falling from the corners of his eyes.
Joey, Andie, and Jen walked out of the roller rink, into the chilly night air, and hurried towards the old blue truck. Joey got behind the wheel while her friends slid in through the passenger side door. Andie buckled her seatbelt while Jen searched the middle of the bench seat for her own belt. She found it just as Joey turned the ignition and started the truck. The radio abruptly came to life and Jen reached out to turn the volume down.
Joey quickly turned on the heat, air suddenly blasting onto the floorboards. "We're not dressed properly for this weather," she grumbled.
"At least we have coats on over our lingerie," Jen contended.
Andie hugged her arms around her and shivered. "Well, I had a great time, ladies. This was a lot of fun."
Joey pressed down on the clutch and threw the truck into first gear. "Yeah, me too. I hadn't been to the roller rink in so long. I had forgotten how fun it was, how much I loved coming here."
"When was the last time you were here?" Andie asked.
"Um, let's see… It probably would've been… Oh! My twelfth birthday party." She pulled out of the parking lot and onto Old Harbor Road. "Yeah, that was it. After that, my mom's cancer got worse and we kind of just… stopped going to the roller rink on weekends."
Andie gave her a sympathetic frown. "Well, I hope your birthday party was at least a good one."
Joey chewed on her lip, remembering. "Actually, well, it started out not so great and then I was miserable for a while in the middle of it. As with most co-ed parties full of sixth-graders, there was drama involved."
"Oh, I love this song!" Jen interjected. She turned the volume back up and "Dancing in the Dark" suddenly filled the cab.
"I didn't know you liked Bruce Springsteen," Andie said excitedly.
Jen shrugged. "What's not to like? He's the Boss."
Smiling, Joey glanced at her friends. The three girls then started singing along to the radio. They sang so loudly and so terribly off-key that they kept dissolving into fits of laughter. Soon they were back at Jen's house. Once the truck was parked and the engine turned off, Joey slid out and closed the door behind her. She stared over at the Leery's house.
"Don't you guys think it's weird that we haven't seen Dawson at all?" Joey asked. "I mean, he wasn't here this afternoon. He still wasn't around when we left for the roller rink. And his car still isn't here. I know he's been busy helping Gail with the restaurant but even she's been home today."
"He went camping with Pacey," Andie explained.
Joey and Jen stared at her. "How do you know that?" asked Jen.
She shrugged as she stepped onto the porch. "Pacey told me yesterday in school. He said he going to be hanging out with the kid from the mentoring program and then he was going camping with Dawson." Andie looked back at Jen and Joey as they came up the steps, their brows knitting. "What? We are friends, you know. We do talk when we see each other and it's totally fine."
Later, after having gotten ready for bed and into their pajamas, the girls lounged around Jen's bedroom. "This has been a perfect Saturday night," Andie said happily as she got into her sleeping bag on the floor beside the bed. "We really needed this, and I think we should make it a regular thing. What do you think?"
"I liked it," Joey admitted.
"Me, too," added Jen with a smile.
Andie smiled wide and clasped her hands together. "Yay!"
Chuckling, Joey rolled her eyes. It wasn't long before Jen switched off the light, but the girls continued to talk. Andie told them all about Jack and his new friend Ethan. "So, Joey," she then said. "Tell us all about the drama of your 12th birthday party."
"Oh, yeah, I wanna hear this, too," Jen agreed.
Joey laughed. "But it's so dumb, and it was so long ago."
Scoffing, Andie tutted her. "But neither me nor Jen were in Capeside back then. We don't know these stories, and I, for one, want to hear them."
"Okay, fine," Joey relented. "So, at my party there were about quite a bunch of kids from the sixth grade. I think my mom invited the entire class." She laughed. "Anyway, about twenty to twenty-five showed up, I think. I was so excited and at first, I was having fun with my friends. And then the DJ did that whole 'couples only' thing where he plays a slow song and then boys and girls couple up and hold hands while they skate around the rink. So, he's announcing 'Couples skate only! Couples skate only!' for the first time that night and I was hoping Dawson would ask me to skate with him." She sighed. "But of course, he had a huge crush on Meghan Arliss and he asked her to skate with him."
"Ugh, I'm sorry, Joey," Andie sympathized.
"Yeah, that must've sucked," agreed Jen.
Joey nodded. "Anyway, that's basically how most of the night went. We had fun during regular skates, laughing and goofing off, but whenever the DJ would do the 'couples only' thing, Dawson made a beeline for Meghan and completely ignored me. Not to mention, none of the other boys asked me to skate with them either."
"Even though it was your birthday?" Andie replied indignantly.
"Yeah."
"Boys are twits," Jen said.
Andie cleared her throat. "Um… I'm assuming Pacey was at your party?"
Joey chewed on her lip, nodding. "Yeah, but he was in the room with the arcade games. He doesn't like to ska—" The sentence abruptly trailed off. Her eyes widened with a look of realization. "But actually, he…"
"What?" Andie and Jen asked in unison.
"The DJ announced the final skate, and of course it was another couples only skate. I was hoping that Dawson would finally ask me, you know, because it was my birthday and we were best friends. But nope, he went right for Meghan again. The other boys who were skating all paired off with other girls."
"I'll say it again," Jen inserted. "Boys are twits. All of them. Complete idiots."
Joey sighed. "You know, it wasn't easy being the tallest girl in the sixth grade. I was taller than even most of the boys and just felt so awkward. Anyway, so I'm sitting on a bench beside the rink and I'm just really upset, trying not to cry, and…" She smiled at the memory. "And then Pacey was there and he'd actually went and put on skates, and he was kind of clumsy in them." She giggled. "But he held out his hand and asked me to skate the final skate with him."
"Aww!" exclaimed Andie.
"Yeah, it was really sweet," she admitted. "Looking back on it now. I was pretty ungrateful then, I'm sorry to say."
Jen pursed her lips. "So, did you? Skate with him?"
Her smile became a frown. "Well, after some stubborn resistance on my part, and Pacey patiently trying to convince me to go with him, I finally agreed. We got onto the rink and he held my hand, but we weren't even able to do, you know, one full lap around before the song ended. Then it was over. Everyone had to return their skates and head home. And that was my twelfth birthday party."
"At least it ended on a high note," said Andie. "Kind of…"
"Well, I don't know about that high note," Joey corrected. "You know how I mentioned there was drama? Well, Dawson got really mad at Pacey about something after the party. I had no idea what, but they were fighting in the parking lot until Mitch arrived to pick Dawson up. So, yeah. Drama."
"Gee, I wonder what they were fighting about," Jen said pointedly.
Joey frowned, her brows knitting with worry.
Andie sighed. "Boys may be twits, but anyone who says chivalry is dead hasn't met Pacey Witter. I think the thing that sucks most about our breakup, other than the blatantly obvious, is how hard it was to move on when you were the bad guy. I mean, I can't go around angry like, 'screw him! I'm better off without him!' or 'I'm just gonna find myself a guy who treats me the way I deserve.' I think it might be easier to get over someone when you realize how wrong they were for you, that you are truly better off without them in your life, but I can't say that about Pacey. He was perfect, being with him was perfect. And I screwed it all up. But I've come to accept it as a life lesson. Learning to forgive yourself is very important, and it might be even harder than forgiving others."
Her frown deepening, Joey didn't reply. Jen shifted in the bed, trying to get comfortable. "Now that you've forgiven yourself and are in a good place, Andie, have you thought about dating? I'm sure there are some boys at our school who aren't complete idiots all the time."
"Yeah, I've thought about it…" Andie replied hesitantly. "In a sort of vague way, no one specific. Pacey was the first guy I ever… you know. He was so gentle and caring and unselfish, and not to be crass, but he always made me feel good, even the very first time, if you know what I mean, which was a total shock to me, by the way. I know this may be hard to believe because of the mistake I made last summer, but the thought of being with someone else—in that way—makes me kind of nervous. There are lot of jerks out there." She sighed. "But I do miss it, I'm not gonna lie. There's nothing on the planet that can compare to being in love. Maybe I'll meet someone nice who will sweep me off my feet. Who knows?"
"I hope you meet someone, Andie," Jen said.
Joey nodded. "Me, too."
Andie heaved a sigh. "Thanks. And, um, I never said this before, but it really means a lot to me that you all didn't just, like, cast me aside after what I did to Pacey. I totally would've understood if you had. I did a terrible thing. You've been friends with him a lot longer, especially you, Joey, and I'm still kind of the new girl in town."
"You're our friend, too, Andie," Joey told her. "We all make mistakes and it's not our place to judge."
"She's right," Jen said. "We've all done things we deeply regret, things that hurt people we care about. We apologize and do what we can to make amends, and then we just move on and try to do better. That's all we can really ask of each other. You deserve to be happy, Andie, and so does Pacey." Beneath the blanket, she reached over and squeezed Joey's hand. "We all do."
Hot tears pricked Joey's eyes, and she curled herself into the fetal position, pulling the blankets over her shoulder. Andie then said goodnight and the room grew quiet. After several minutes she heard light snoring coming from the floor. She sighed, unable to sleep. The mattress dipped as Jen shifted onto her side and inched closer. "Are you all right, Joey?" she whispered.
"I don't know," she whispered back. "I don't know what to think, or how to feel. When he kissed me, he told me it was just a compulsive, hormonal impulse, but…"
"That's what he said?"
"Yeah."
"Well, what prompted him to say that? How did you react when it happened?"
She let out a quiet sigh of exasperation. "How do you think I reacted? I freaked out."
"And that's when he told you it was just an impulse?"
"…Yes." Joey pursed her lips and chewed on the inside of the bottom one. "So, you think it was more than just an impulse?"
Jen was quiet for a moment. "I don't think Pacey has a habit of kissing girls for no real reason. I also don't think he would do something with the massive potential to turn his entire life upside down in a moment of… hormonal thoughtlessness. I'm willing to guess there had actually been a lot of thought behind it, if not in the moment, then for a long time beforehand."
Joey frowned. "I guess… some things are starting to make sense, but I feel more confused than ever. I don't want this to… I don't want things to be awkward and uncomfortable. I don't want to upset anyone. I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings."
"What about your own feelings?" Jen asked.
"Maybe I'll know once I figure out what they are," she snarked. "Why did he have to go and do something like this? We were finally friends, real friends. I could count on him and go to him when I needed help. I could confide in him and just be myself around him, and now... I mean, I was perfectly happy with the way things were. I didn't want or need anything else from him."
Jen licked her lips and thought for a moment. "Were you?" She paused. "You didn't? Are you sure about that?"
Joey buried her face in her pillow and groaned. "Someone just shoot me," she said, her voice muffled by the fabric.
"I'm sure in time you'll find the clarity you need," Jen assured. "Don't be too hard on yourself, okay?"
She didn't reply and simply lifted her face from the pillow, hugging the blankets around her tighter. After a few moments of silence, she spoke again. "Thanks for listening, Jen. I'm sorry for biting your head off earlier."
Jen smiled. "What are friends for? You know, I think Andie is right. We need to do this more often."
"That would be nice," she agreed. Once again, the bedroom became quiet, and soon she heard Jen's slow, steady breathing along with Andie's light snores. Not knowing how or when, at some point Joey fell asleep.
He stood inside the convenience store, face to face with Joey. He desperately tried to think of a way to turn the situation into a joke but nothing came to mind. Instead, he apologized and told her she had been right about the kiss because of Dawson and the potential for disastrous consequences. He told her he'd been monumentally stupid and didn't know what he'd been thinking.
Stupid, of course, but life would go on. He'd survived worse in his life than the fool's broken heart he had now, one that was entirely his own doing. It would pass. He'd get over it. He ignored the fact that his feelings for Joey hadn't diminished after nearly six months of unrequited longing. "I just wanted you to know it was an impulse, plain and simple," he told her. "One that has left my body. Permanently. I promise." He hoped the look on his face wasn't transparent. He was lying, to her and to himself. He knew he was lying.
"It's okay, Pacey," Joey tried to assure him. "I mean, I totally overreacted. I mean, something isn't a big deal unless you let it be. And… And it…" She lowered her gaze from his. "You know, it's… It's not a big deal. Why get so upset? I mean, it obviously meant nothing. Right?"
The small flicker of hope that she felt the same for him was instantly snuffed out. He averted his eyes from hers, forcing the pain away. "Right. Right because what I did was a mistake."
"Right."
"Right. Well, uh… I guess that puts us back to just being friends." He held out his hand, and Joey shook it. "Definitely," she said.
"Great," he breathed, wishing the earth would open up and swallow him. He then muttered a feeble excuse about Buzz, sugar, and needing to get him home, and beat a hasty retreat from the convenience store.
April 10. He walked into the cafeteria on Monday, carrying his lunch tray, to find Joey was already sitting with Dawson. He sighed and turned away, spotting Andie and Jack at another table, and walked over to join them. Opening his bottle of lemonade, he glanced in Joey's direction. For two people who were "definitely" friends, they sure were going out of their way to avoid each other. There was one thing he knew for sure: he was miserable without her. He missed her like a drowning man misses the air in his lungs.
"Pacey!"
Startled, he turned back sharply. "What, Andie?"
She stared at him, arching her brows. "Didn't you hear me talking to you? I asked you how your weekend was."
"Oh, well, you know…" He sighed, trying to shove Joey out of his thoughts. "On Saturday, I had Buzz with me. We worked on the boat until about three o'clock and then I went to work. Then I did the same thing all over again on Sunday." He glanced between Andie and Jack. "And you guys? How was your weekend?"
"Good," they answered in unison. "We went to Providence with Dad to see Mom and we also got to see my friend Kate," Andie added. "When do you think you'll be finished with the boat?"
"I expect to be finished in a week or two, and then I'll test the waters," he replied.
She smiled. "Oh, so, have you decided what poem you're going to recite in Mr. Broderick's class on Friday?"
He shook his head. "No, not yet."
Andie frowned in disapproval. "Pacey, you have to make sure you have enough time to practice it. That means choosing a poem well in advance. You can't just wing it. You know, pick one on Friday morning and then recite it in the afternoon. This is such an easy assignment for you. You're a natural in front of an audience, and Mr. Broderick likes you. It's an easy A. Just pick a poem that speaks to you personally and recite from the heart. You'll easily convey the meaning."
"Say 'easy' again," he teased. She rolled her eyes and he chuckled.
Jack flipped open a textbook. "Did you guys do the history assignment yet? The one that's due tomorrow?"
"The paper on Martin Luther King, Jr? I'm almost finished." He took a swig of his lemonade. "The video store was dead on Sunday and I wrote most of it at work."
"Hey, guys."
He turned to see his best friend standing there. Andie and Jack said their hellos. His gaze was pulled to Joey, who walked up behind Dawson. Their eyes met and held for a moment before she quickly looked away. His guts twisted into knots. "You got any plans for spring break?" Dawson asked them.
Pursing his lips, he shook his head. Jack and Andie exchanged a brief look. "No," they said.
"Well, my Aunt Gwen is selling her house," continued Dawson. "She lives in Springfield. We used to spend a lot of time there during the summer when we were kids."
"I remember," he said, glancing at Joey again. Their eyes locked, but she wouldn't maintain it for long, and quickly dropped her gaze from his.
Dawson smiled. "Yeah, well, she's invited us to come for the weekend as a one last hurrah type thing before she moves. Do you guys want to come with us?" He motioned to Joey. "We'll be leaving on Saturday—it takes about five hours to get there—and then we'll come back on Monday."
Andie smiled. "I'd love to. Jack?" Her brother nodded in agreement. "Yeah, sure," he said. "Why not? Sounds like fun."
"Pace?" his best friend prodded.
He looked at Joey again, staring at her shoes, her brows knitting. He frowned. "I'd love to, Dawson, but I think I'm gonna have to sit this one out. I've got Buzz on the weekends now, and I don't want to just skip town when he looks forward to us hanging out. It's important to him. Don't want to let the kid down, you know?" He frowned again at Joey's obvious look of relief, frustration rising up inside him.
Dawson pursed his lips, impressed. "Well, all right. I respect that. I do wish you'd change your mind, though. I understand if you don't, but it's an open invitation in case you do."
"Thanks, man." His gaze then collided with Joey's. Affection and longing rose up sharply inside him, but his heart constricted, painfully reminding him that she didn't feel the same way. He tried to ignore it. What a fool he was for thinking he could control his feelings for her, that they would simply pass and he would eventually move on. A sense of aching loss gnawed at him as he watched her walk away with Dawson.
On Friday, spring break anticipation had reached fever pitch. Students were restless, goofing off in class, and a spike in locker-related practical jokes was at an all-time high. In the afternoon, he walked out of math as the bell rang, Joey somewhere behind him, and started making his way to English. He soon met up with Dawson in the hall, heading in the same direction. They walked into the classroom, nodded and waved hello to Andie and Jack, and then took their usual seats with Jen. It was the only class he shared with Joey where she hadn't opted to start sitting on the opposite side of the room. She sat directly in front of him and next to Dawson, and their friend surely would've noticed her abrupt change in seating.
After telling the class to settle down, Mr. Broderick sat back in the chair behind his desk and started calling out names of students in alphabetical order to come up front and recite their poems. He sat attentively, trying not to be distracted by the back of Joey's head, and listened to poems about nature—trees and flowers and the ocean—poems about friendship and love, life and death. And then his teacher called out, "Joey Potter."
Staring, he watched her stand up and walk to the front of the classroom, carrying a piece of lined paper in her hand. "Okay, Ms. Potter, what poem have you chosen to recite for us?"
"'Fear' by Raymond Carver," she answered.
"Excellent choice," Mr. Broderick replied.
She chewed her lip and pulled her hair behind an ear. "Yeah, well, I had this… friend… up in Boston and he helped me choose a poem weeks ago, but I realized the one I'd picked didn't really speak to me. So, I ended up choosing this one recently, and haven't had that much time to prepare and so I hope it's—"
"Potter, you're rambling," their teacher said dryly. "I'm sure it's fine. Go ahead."
Joey cleared her throat. "Okay," she breathed. "'Fear.'" Then she began to recite her poem:
Fear of seeing a police car pull into the drive.
Fear of falling asleep at night.
Fear of not falling asleep.
Fear of the past rising up.
Fear of the present taking flight.
Fear of the telephone that rings in the dead of night.
Fear of electrical storms.
Fear of the cleaning woman who has a spot on her cheek!
Fear of dogs I've been told won't bite.
Fear of anxiety!
Fear of having to identify the body of a dead friend.
Fear of running out of money.
Fear of having too much, though people will not believe this.
Fear of psychological profiles.
Fear of being late and fear of arriving before anyone else.
Fear of my children's handwriting on envelopes.
Fear they'll die before I do, and I'll feel guilty.
Fear of having to live with my mother in her old age, and mine.
Fear of confusion.
Fear this day will end on an unhappy note.
Fear of waking up to find you gone.
Fear of not loving and fear of not loving enough.
Fear that what I love will prove lethal to those I love.
Fear of death.
Fear of living too long.
Fear of death.
I've said that.
Joey lowered the paper, swallowing, and looked up. Their eyes met for a brief moment before she turned her attention to Mr. Broderick, who commended her for a job well done. Their teacher then asked her what the poem meant to her. "I think most of the time life has more fears than securities," she answered. "And any of these fears can happen on a daily basis, and maybe sometimes all of them at once, especially the ones that are contradictory and just leave you feeling confused and unsure as to what you're even truly afraid of."
Mr. Broderick nodded appreciatively. "Nice job, Joey. You can sit down."
Pacey watched her as she made her way back to her desk. Their eyes locked briefly just before she turned to sit down in front of him, the butterflies erupting inside. He glanced up at the clock, more thankful than he'd ever been in his life that his name was Witter, and hoped the time would run out before Mr. Broderick got to him. No such luck.
"Pacey?" the teacher called out. "Do you have a poem prepared for us?"
"Yes, Mr. Broderick." From behind his rectangular wooden desk, his English teacher curled his fingers and motioned him to come forward. He took a deep breath, feeling his face grow hot, and stood up from his seat. As he walked to the front of the class, he felt like his heart was in his throat.
"Okay, Mr. Witter, what do you have for us? I'm all a tingle."
He almost smirked at his teacher's dry delivery. "'Just a Minute' by Dr. Benjamin E. Mays."
Mr. Broderick furrowed his brows, giving him a questioning look. "Is he a poet?"
"Not as his profession," he explained. "He was a civil rights leader who was the president of Morehouse College when Martin Luther King, Jr. attended there. He gave the eulogy at King's funeral."
"Interesting choice, Mr. Witter." Mr. Broderick leaned back in his chair and intertwined his fingers over his lap. "I'm ready when you are."
He swallowed against a lump the size of a boulder and turned to face his classmates. He clenched his hands into fists, unsure of what to do with them, and then just held them behind his back. On his left, Andie gave him a smile and encouraging nod. Just behind her, Jack gave him a discreet thumbs up. He fought a smile, and glanced at Jen and Dawson, who smiled and leaned forward in their desks with keen interest. His gaze then locked on Joey's, and this time she didn't look away. He took a deep breath and, looking into her eyes, began to recite from memory, slowly, pausing dramatically after each line:
I only have a minute,
Sixty seconds in it.
Forced upon me, I can't refuse it,
Didn't seek it, didn't choose it,
But it's up to me to use it.
I must suffer if I lose it,
Give an account if I abuse it.
Just a tiny little minute,
But eternity is in it.
Raw emotion welled up inside him. He remembered that early morning when he'd stood on the side of the road with Joey in the freezing cold, threw caution to the wind, and finally chose to act. His eyes still glued to hers, he watched them widen, saw her lips parting as she stared at him. Her brows knitted, and she lowered her gaze over her desk.
He looked over at Mr. Broderick who gaped at him as if dumbfounded. "Excellent work, Pacey. And what does this poem mean to you?"
Taking a deep breath, he thought for a moment. Once again, he glanced at Joey, and although her gaze was still directed downwards, he saw her blush. He cleared his throat. "Uh… Well, it means time is valuable and it shouldn't be wasted. Even in just one minute, the choices we make in such a short period of time could affect the rest of our lives. So, we should make the most of every minute because we never know how our lives could change, or what we might lose out on if we don't use the time we have wisely."
Mr. Broderick stared at him and then nodded, silently motioning him to return to his seat. He walked down the aisle of desks and chairs, trying not to look at Joey, and then quickly sat down behind her. "Oh, Mr. Witter?" his teacher spoke from behind the desk. He looked over at him. "You just earned yourself an A plus. Excellent job." He smiled to himself, a sense of pride welling up inside him. "Okay, class, thank you for all your hard work on this unit," Mr. Broderick continued. Suddenly the bell rang, dismissing sixth period, and students jumped out of their seats. "Enjoy your spring break," he called out over the din.
Later that evening after he got out of work, he rode his bike to his house instead of going back to Doug's. He laid his bike against the brick steps of the front porch and walked in the door, his chest tight with anxiety. He glanced into the living room to see his three nieces on the floor with their toys, and went searching for his dad. He found him sitting in the back den watching TV and drinking beer. "Hey, Pop," he greeted cautiously. "You wanted me to come home?"
John Witter tore his gaze from the TV and looked up at him standing there. "Hi, Pacey. Uh, yeah." He looked back at the television. "Uh, could you go upstairs and talk to your sister? We can't seem to get through to her. Your mother doesn't know what else to do."
Worry tightened his stomach. "What do you mean? What's wrong with Carrie?"
"I don't know, son."
He walked out of the den and into the living room where his nieces were playing with their Barbies. They giggled excitedly at his sudden appearance, and he got down on the floor with them. "How's your mom doing, Piper?" he asked the eldest.
The five-year-old pulled on one of her pigtails and shrugged. "She's sleeping."
The clock on the wall told him it was only just past eight o'clock. "Sleeping, huh?"
"Uh-huh."
"Mommy sleeps a lot," said one of the twins.
He sighed, rubbing his fingers between his brows. "Okay. Uh, keep playing and I'll be back down in a few minutes."
Once upstairs, he knocked on the door to Gretchen's old bedroom. "Carrie, it's me," he spoke through the barrier. There was no answer, but he opened the door and stepped inside. There were no lights on and he blinked, his eyes starting to adjust to the darkness as he flipped the light switch. He looked at the bed, where there was obviously somebody huddled beneath a bundle of blankets.
"Ugh, Pacey," a voice mumbled. "Turn the light back off."
"Sorry, no can do." He walked over to the bed and threw the covers back. "What's going on with you?"
Tears came to her eyes as his sister looked up at him. "Jerry filed for divorce," she sniffled.
Sighing, he sat down on the side of the bed. "I'm sorry, Carrie."
"I know I was the one who left him, and I know I was right to," she said tearfully. "But I guess I was hoping he'd feel some sort of remorse and at least try to make an effort to put his family back together. He hasn't spoken to me or the girls since I left, not even a phone call. They ask for their daddy all the time. It's not fair to them. He doesn't give a shit."
"He was a jerk. He was not a nice guy, okay? You and the girls are better off without him around. If you were still living together, he'd just continue to treat you like crap, and then when the girls got older, he'd treat them like crap, too."
"That's what I get for marrying a guy just like Dad," she grumbled.
He bit his tongue. "Look, your kids need you. They don't have their father, so they need even more of your attention. Isolating yourself is only going to make this situation harder on them." He thought of Buzz, and didn't want the same for his nieces. "And do you really want the majority of their time to be spent with Mom and Dad? That wouldn't be good for anyone. They're downstairs playing with their dolls. Go down and play with them. Please?"
Carrie wiped her tears from her face and nodded. She sat up, took a deep breath, and he helped her climb out of the bed. "I'm sure I look like a train wreck," she muttered as she got to her feet.
"Just pull a brush through your hair and you'll be fine," he encouraged.
He followed his eldest sister down the stairs and listened as the girls shouted, "Mommy! Mommy!" from the living room. He smiled to himself and then went back to the den. "Carrie's in the living room playing with the girls. So, I, uh… I guess I'll see you later, Pop."
An awkward tension filled the air. John Witter cleared his throat and nodded, keeping his gaze on the television screen. "Yeah. Thanks for coming over, Pacey. Don't forget to say hello to your mother."
Just then the doorbell rang, and he turned from the den, his attention piqued. Soon his mother called out, "Pacey!"
He walked towards the front of the house where he saw his mom standing with the door open. There was a guy standing on the porch. As he got closer, he recognized him as one of his childhood friends who'd moved away to another town after third grade and recently applied to boarding school in an attempt to escape his violent father. "Will! What are you doing here, man?"
Will Krudski smiled and held out his hand. He shook it. "Hey, Pacey. Um, I hope it's cool I showed up like this. I should've called, but…"
"It's okay," he reassured. "I'm just surprised to see you is all. What brings you back to Capeside?"
"Spring break. I didn't want to stay at school. Some… stuff… is going down there I kind of wanted to get away from. I didn't want to go home to my house, of course. I didn't really know where else to spend the week. You were the first person I thought of."
He smiled. "Hey, what are childhood best friends for, eh?" He glanced inside the house. "You really don't want to stay here, though. I mean, I don't even stay here. It's a house full, a lot going on. But we can go to Doug's place. That's where I've been staying."
An hour later, they were sitting on Doug's couch, his brother only having put up a mild protest at having a guest stay for the week. "So, what are we gonna do this weekend?" Will asked.
The first thing that popped into his head was the True Love and Buzz and then his shifts at the video store. "Um…" He rubbed his chin, trying to think of something. "Well, I did have some stuff I had to do, like work. But, um…" He remembered Dawson's open invitation to join him and their friends on that weekend trip to his aunt's house. "Maybe I can get out of it. I'll make some phone calls."
After assuring Buzz that missing the weekend wouldn't be a big deal since they both had spring break and could hang out all week, and then switching shifts with one of his co-workers, his weekend opened up. He felt a sense of relief. While several days off from school was always welcome, the thought of not seeing Joey until a week from Monday had been agonizing. No matter how frustrating and painful it was to be around her, knowing he could never have her, it didn't compare to the misery of being without her.