Chapter 11
I enter my apartment with a sigh. I tried to act like nothing happened, I tried to help Joey forget everything that came out with that stupid meeting but I'm no miracle worker. Actually I was pretty scared of this from the beginning. Yes, I kept the thought in the back of my mind, trying hard to ignore it, but I knew it would come to this. Something had to happen, it was just too beautiful. I'm not meant to have something like that.
Dawson is sitting in the kitchen, looking pretty pensive. I hesitate for a minute, but this is something I have to solve. Because suddenly moving in with Joey doesn't seem like such a good idea and I have nowhere else to go.
"Hey D" I say carefully.
"Hey Pacey…" he turns to face me and he doesn't look mad. I let go of the breath I was holding.
"I'm sorry for what happened in there…" I say.
"No, it's not your fault. Don't apologise. I don't know what came over me" he replies and my breath is going back to normal.
"Look I understand where you're coming from and you're right. Petey and Sam were supposed to be enemies but me and Joey turned them into friends that bicker. I am aware of that, I've been aware of that since forever, but I kinda hoped no-one else would notice… cause I can't act like I hate Joey. I'm not that good of an actor. I'm not sure anyone is"
"It's okay, I totally overreacted…"
"No, it's not okay…"
"Pacey" he interrupts me and suddenly I'm nervous again. "It's okay. You're in love with her. I can't blame you for that" he rises and goes to his room.
It's not okay. He does blame me. He says he doesn't but he does. I knew it was too good to be true.
The phone rings.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Pace" Joey's voice suddenly calms me down.
"Hey, Jo"
"You talked to him?"
"What? Who?"
"Dawson, of course. You talked to him?"
"Oh. Yeah I talked to him and… Jo…" suddenly this fear takes over me. It's over. The good part is over. Because now the world kicked in. Now other people are involved in our relationship and it's never gonna be the same again.
"Yes, Pacey…"
"Jo, I don't think it's a good idea anymore…"
"What?"
"To move in with you… I've given it thought and… it's way too soon, we've only known each other for six months now, and I'm not even 20 yet and you're not 19 and I don't think we're ready for this…"
A long pause at the other end. I can tell she's hurt. But I'm right. I can't move in. Not now. Not after today.
"What about going home to meet my parents?"
"I can do that" I sigh.
"You can do that or you want to do that?"
"I want to do that"
"Don't be too enthusiastic about it…" she says sarcastically.
"Listen, Jo, I can't do this right now. I said I'll come and I'll come." The fear is getting bigger and bigger and I can't stop it. I can't stop sounding bitter and distant, I can't stop saying these things that hurt her and I know they hurt her but I can't stop. And so my fear comes true, I make it come true, and I feel like I'm watching myself from a distance as I hurt the one person that means most to me in this world. And there's nothing I can do to stop it.
"Don't do it on my account, okay?" she says and she hangs up on me. I throw the phone down and I go to my room. I let myself fall on the bed and suddenly the fear is replaced by anger. Pure anger and hatred at the world around me. Because they won't let me be with Joey. Because they just ruined the only time in my life when I felt genuinely happy. From now on it's all downhill.
Dawson comes in some time later. I don't even know how long I've been there, just lying on my bed and thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. Images run through my mind, random images that have nothing to do with each other, Doug's CD's, Carrie's rugrats, mom's fake smile, dad's severe look, Joey's smile, my first girlfriend, my first kiss, the smell of the warm summer air… I don't analyze them I just think them, images floating through my mind, images that don't matter, they're just there…
"Pacey…" Dawson sits down next to me.
"Dawson."
"When are you moving out?"
"I'm not. Not anymore."
"What? Why?"
My face is made of stone. My brain registers a desire to laugh sarcastically, but my face won't do it. I settle for laughing in my brain and keep staring at the ceiling.
"Not because of me, I hope", he says again.
I've grown to know Dawson, these six months I've lived with him. He's a decent guy, generally, and he always does what he's been tought to do, what he thinks is right, what people generally think it's right. But sometimes, just sometimes, the real him kicks in and he turns out to be a very selfish person. Ironically, I've grown to believe that if he actually let out that person more often he wouldn't be that selfish. But since he keeps it locked in, it only gets out in case of explosion and that always happens in a massive way. Right now the nice Dawson is seated beside me. He's feeling guilty about his explosion of selfishness and tries to mend things.
"No Dawson. It's not because of you. Me and Joey are not ready for that kind of commitment."
"I'm sorry to hear that"
"Yeah, well, it happens to the best of them. We're way too young to consider this, it's better this way."
"You guys had a fight?"
He's trying to be supportive now. Great. I don't need supportive right now. I need tolerance and ignorance.
"We're okay." I say indifferently. Actually I kept an indifferent tone throughout the conversation, it's like my face and body and voice have decided to turn to ice all of a sudden. I'm miles away. I'm not here. Such a strange sensation.
"If you ever need someone to talk to…"
He's still trying to mend his guilty conscience. Great. Now I actually have the ingrate part of having to convince him that he's a great friend so I can get him off my back. Cause he doesn't care about me and Joey. He just wants to act like he does.
"I know, D, I'll come straight to you."
I think he finally ran out of things to say.
"Okay… I'll leave you to… whatever it was that you were doing before I came in here…"
Finally I let out a chuckle but don't say anything. I don't have anything to say.
"See you later" he gets up and leaves.
The door closes behind him and I'm still in the same position I was when he came in. Actually I've been in the same position for hours. Has it really been hours?
The phone is ringing again. It's right there on the nightstand but I can't be bothered. Dawson answers after three rings. He knocks a few moments later.
"Pacey… It's Joey…"
I sigh deeply. I really am not in the mood for this. I am not in the mood for anything. I turn to the phone and I answer on a cold voice.
"Hey Jo"
"Hey Pace" she says. She's been crying. I can tell. I can always tell. I know her too well. And it's only been six months. The fear kicks in again.
"Joey…"
"I'm sorry, Pacey… I just… what is happening?"
"Well, you know, every couple has to go through some serious crisis… and I think we've just come to one…"
"But what is the crisis, Pace? The fact that Dawson doesn't like your popularity? The fact that Nigel doesn't agree with our involvement with each other? I don't care about that… do you?"
"No, Joey, I really couldn't care less about all of that."
"Than what is it?"
The words come out of my mouth naturally although I never thought of them before.
"Joey, I started a ride when I met you. I just got in and went with it and I never actually sat down and thought where it's taking me. And now… I'm starting to think…"
I can hear her sigh.
"… I just think we should slow down a little… that's all… I'm still coming with you to meet your parents and to see Bessie again, perhaps improve the impression I've made when she came here… but this whole moving in thing has got to be postponed."
She's still not saying anything and I feel like the biggest ass alive.
"You know I'm right, Jo. You know we're moving way too fast… right?"
"…I know… it's just that…"
Pause again.
"…that?" I try helping her.
"It's nothing. Really. I don't want… I don't want us to fight…"
"I don't want us to fight either, but I don't want us to avoid our problems either."
"We don't have any problems, you said that already. We just need to sit down and think."
"….yeah…"
"…we'll talk later."
Suddenly tears are in my eyes. I mentally kick myself and stop them. There's nothing to cry about. I hang up the phone and go back to staring at the ceiling.
