III.
October 3
Dear Journal,
I am writing this through tears but want to get everything down before what happened between us last night destroys all my good memories.
I woke up yesterday morning thinking it had all been a dream. I saw the globe on the nightstand, but Dawson was nowhere to be found. I thought about what had just happened between us and felt 15 again. I went to bed a woman and woke up the same insecure teen I had always been around Dawson.
Was the sex not good enough and that's why he disappeared? Did he resent my asking him to wear a condom? He felt great inside of me and I'm glad we didn't have that barrier between us the first time we made love. But, to be honest, it wasn't just about safe sex. That ribbed condom that Audrey and I bought when we were stocking up on goodies took care of everything. And I woke up with this wonderful sense of completeness.
Then I saw the note on my pillow and felt better because he hadn't deserted the ship, he was coming back. And there he was, right on cue. He had that sexy look of someone who had really enjoyed himself the night before. He brought me my latest fave in the coffee department, a nonfat vanilla soy latte, but I never got a chance to taste it. I saw the rose and couldn't help melting all over again. He brought me a rose. It reminded me of his offer of foliage on our first date. I stumbled over words…and he kissed my insecurity away. "Do we have time?" he asked. I didn't even look at the clock; I didn't care. "Yes."
We started making out like old times, the times when he took my breath away because he was my blonde fantasy and I couldn't imagine being with anyone else. I wanted to give him the kind of pleasure we once made jokes about but secretly wished we'd been doing. I marked a path with my mouth down his torso toward his cock. There. I said it. Penis sounds more polite but a cock is what horny teenagers lust after, and that's certainly the way I was feeling.
"What's this?" he asked as he looked at my butt. "Dawson…" He outlined the birthmark on my right cheek. "No, really, Jo. I've never seen this before." "You weren't supposed to," I replied, feeling a tad silly with his cock in my hand and my butt in his. I turned around. "Even with all those times playing doctor in your closet, the only butt I remember seeing is Pacey's." Oops! Why did I say that? I introduced the unthinkable into our private moment. "Sorry."
"It's okay, Jo. He's part of our past. Anyway, I am officially claiming this spot as my own," he declared as he kissed my birthmark. Oh, how I wish he hadn't said that. Because now all I could think about was Pacey and how he'd once staked a claim to that very location. I couldn't get him out of my head. Pacey.
Dawson started to get up to retrieve another condom and I stopped him. "Make love to me," I said, hoping that very action would drive Pacey out of my brain. But it didn't work. As Dawson hovered over me, all I could think about was that magical time when Pacey and I were discovering each other. I pushed Dawson back and got on top of him, straddling him cowboy-style and pumping away as if for dear life. How unromantic is that? I had to stop thinking about Pacey and concentrate on Dawson, who seemed undeniably aroused beneath me. That's it. Watch his face. Does he know? Don't you dare say his name. Pacey... No, no. Dawson.
Damnit! This was the best sex we'd had so far and I was thinking about someone else. It wasn't fair. But then, as if to prove there is a God, Pacey disappeared in the whiteness and all I could see was Dawson in front of me as I reached an orgasm. He had this peculiar look of satisfaction on his face. Mission accomplished. Crisis averted.
Next time, I vowed, I wouldn't think of him at all. I meant Pacey. But who was I fooling? It might just as well have been Brad Pitt. And then what happened, happened and it didn't matter anymore.