A/N: lol Superfan, I think you have esp or somethin :)... you'll see that they didn't quite make it home;) But thanks for reviewing guys, It means bunches to me. Now drumroll Here's one of the last installments to GTA, so read on kind people:D
...Will hurt you
It slowly becomes unbearable to not only imagine, but experience the situation that we hastily find ourselves in. Feeling a mount of scattered shame I bow my head, as others eyelids grow heavy, and the few people who stared dully but curiously at us for the excruciating hour, either rose from their chairs to leave the room, or simply fell asleep. All of this taking place of course after someone had the apparent task of asking us if we were "Brother/Sister" in a thin southern drawl, before abruptly walking out of the room, leaving a cold air of mystery. Finally, I hold my head up as if the sun is sure to rise, and a small but forced smile takes over my face. The officer that eyes me creepily I might add, returns the smile, and continues typing.
The sloshing of random paperwork, barely above whisper conversation, and relentless mouse clicking have become only a minor distraction. My focus has shakily balanced itself on a thin line of tension that treads between our spirits. His has become increasingly absent, as mine grows fragile. Once we were seated and questioned, his nervousness grew more apparent as he seemingly shut down, leaving me to answer the rest of the questions. I can't help but feel an overbearing rush of trite, as I re-think mine, and his emotions for the hundreth time.
I remain just...still, within my own personal prison, while worry seethes through my body, as even it grows weary. This was no longer the lighthearted twirling of invisible mustaches, and imaginative assumptions of our parental guardians reaction to our departure. Especially seeing as they were--if not highly predicatable--depressingly dull. Though, I believe Pacey had a little more concern in that area, than myself and Jen. To some affect, it has gone to far, but in the back of my mind I know it hasn't gone far enough. In the end this won't change anything, or anyone, I know. But I feel strangley optimistic, and more fearless, as I remember my stubborness once he said "Go." I new I wanted to be with him, whether we stayed or went.
A smile takes over my face again, as I find it no longer hurts to do so. I loved the beach, and the carnival. I loved everything he said, at all the perfect times. But, "It looks like we're going home" wasn't among them. I've on and off wanted him to consider going home and staying there in the process, but the reason for our abrupt return is quite the downer. The sad and somewhat confusing story is actually pretty simple. It's beginning of course is a similar, but less dangerous stance of a mild, Bonnie and Clyde retelling.
Boy "borrows" cousin's car with the help of a certain new york blonde. He along the way picks up a highly impressionable brunette, who by the way was told it was a patrol car that was being borrowed, not the beautiful but circumstantially myserious owned porche that it turned out to be. Boy then takes off with car, as the impressionable teenage girls hesitantly oblige. The fantasic three then crosses Mexican border, with almost no pretense, then make stay in a beautiful hotel suite. Boy kisses brunette girl, not that those details particulary matter in this situation. Boy makes calls, boy decides they all go home, much to their mixed feelings of happiness but light grief. Boy then drops off blonde, then tries to drop off brunette only to reveal he won't be staying.
Both him and the brunette girl quirrel, until he carelessly pulls off, revamping the adventure. With blonde girl gone, she leaves the brunette to deal with this on her own. Not that she minded, since... well only now does brunette girl realize her true feelings are much deeper than she imagined. Anyhow...Boy and brunette hit the beach, then the carnival, then went back to the car, quirrelled again, but the peace broker was an unfortunate one. The white suff turned out to be a familar substance, not entirely to the girl, but to her father. Cocaine was the unlikely surpise of the evening, found none other then in the glove compartment. Quickly, boy and girl races home, but get's stopped by the police on the account of well...racing. Speeding that is.
Unwittingly, the bag that I held jaw-droppingly within my palms, was again taken out and looked at, but never returned to it's original place. It sat obviously, and forgotten between the seats. Once we were pulled over, after the obvious discrimation of us being teens, and out 'that late at night' 'The dope' as Pacey jokingly called it, while we were removed from the vehicle, was confiscated and we were taken downtown. Which I'd rather had seen without the cuffs by the way. My heart drops as I go over the story once more. I can no longer ask myself how we got here. I hope he knows it's not his fault. I've yet to inform him of such truths, but the grim expression on his face tells me I'll have to say something sooner or later.
...I'll go for sooner.
Glancing over at his somber, but still magnetic profile, his eyes finally re-introduces themselves to mine. Dark, and unassuming they fixate on my hand, that lay frozen on the arm of the chair. He looks at me with a would-be smile and warmly covers it with his own. He clears his throat, and looks away.
"I'm sorry, Jo."He whispers sadly.
"This isn't your fault, Pacey."I respond, the apology making a stinging affect upon my ears.
"Believe me...This..."He says looking around. "Is undeniably my fault. I should've just gone home"
"I don't know Pace, I mean... maybe this was meant to happen...maybe it's a sign." I say shaking my head tirelessly.
"A sign of the hell...that is to come."He says deadpan, raising his hand to emphasise, then gradually letting it fall back onto mine.
"Shh.." I say looking around, holding back a much needed laugh.
"What? They can't exactly arrest you for profanity...Right?"
"Well, I'm slightly in tuned with the legal system..." I say folding my arms. "Daddy being in jail and all. As a matter of fact, you could say this situation is a bit too familar."
"Man I hate police stations--"
"As do I." I say pointedly, interrupting.
"I used to hang out at my dads station all the time when I was younger. Yeah, me and Dougie would just run around." He says fondly, a bright smile across his face. Naturally, I smile too.
"Oh, really?"I say leaning back, looking at him playfully, but skeptically. "And how come I've never heard of these play dates?"
And, Doug running around?
"It was one of the few times when my mother had something better to do than just sit at home, and watch the kids." He says laughing to himself, crossing over into nostalgia. "It would always be the hottest of days. I remeber beating the hell out of the candy machine, everytime it ate up one of my dollars."
"I can see that happening actually."
"Yeah, I would always get in trouble for running around stirring up trouble. Deleting files off of computers and...Well, you know stuff that any other eight year old kid would do."
"They had computers back then?"
Finally he laughs.
"From what I remember, that would be a yes."
"And by Doug running around with you...you mean chasing you around?"
"That would also be a yes."He says with a chuckle. "Happy, happy times."
"I'll bet. So why do you hate police stations?"
"Well, with the good comes the bad right?"He says stroking his chin with a dry laugh.
I study his face as he his demeanor immediately changes.
"Yeah.."I say quietly.
"Let's just say...after a particular run in with my father--In front of his buddies I might add--Well I really couldn't sit still."
I rest my head on his shoulder, for my own comfort and his.
"And now he's coming to pick us up."I say remembering the officer's long-distance call to Pacey's father, who was already on his way to Texas. Only now, he knows where we are.
"Looks like I'm finally going to see the inside of a juvenile facility after all."He says winking.
"Sounds inviting."I say looking up at his now energetic gaze.
"So, true."
"We only have... hours until he gets here."I say looking at his toy-like watch.
"Also true."
"So do we just sit here?"
"They have a vending machine over there."He says motioning to the discovered object.
"Great. Got a dollar or two?"
"I believe I gave you the spare change--you know while they were frisking me and all."
"Oh yeah." I say smiling. "That was pure comedy."
"The very root."
"Let me see..."I say reaching into my pockets.
"You didn't put the money in your sock or somethin'?" He asks looking at me as If I were a green rat. "I mean, If they found it they would've take it."
"Exactly." I say giving him a knowing look. "And they didn't find the money, so just...hush."
"I'm starving."
"I'm still a little full from the popcorn, though that may be wearing off in the next thirty minutes or so." I say reaching into my other pocket. "And I don't have on socks."
"Well, I for one, am famished."
"Here's...something." I say pulling out a small crumpled note.
"What's that?"He asks.
Slowly I unfold the single page, as the navy blue ink in which the careful words were written in becomes more vivid. It's of course my mothers words of wisdom that not to long ago, I read over as If it were the very scriptures of the bible.
"My mother wrote this...before she died."
"Oh..."He says in astonishment. "If you don't mind me asking--?"
"What does it say?"
"Yeah."
"H-Here."I say, hesitantly handing him the small paper. Only Bessie has shared this with me.
He reads the complicated cursive as if it were fine print.
"This is beautiful." He says deeply and genuine.
"Yeah...Yeah it is."I say finding my fingers more and more interesting. Suddenly, he felt a bit more closer than before.
My body hasn't felt this heavy, since my previous stay in La Quinta Inn. Except this time, instead of a bed, I have my boyfriends shoulder...and a chair. I have no clue of how long we've been asleep, but...I'm about to find out.
"Excuse me, Pacey is it?" The young officer asks.
"Yep." He says sitting up, shaking off the sleep.
"Well, your dad and the guy that says he owns the car is on their way in, so you might wanna get on up."
"Where are they?" I ask.
"Right there." he says pointing to the door as both Pacey's dad, and his cousin walk into the room.
His cousin looks nothing like I'd imagined. He's tall like I pictured, but incredibly thin, only to be covered up by an oversized suite that I assume he's more that used to wearing. Blonde, and reeking of snobbish good humor he approaches.
"We meet again." He says to him, as Pacey rises from his seat automatically on guard, to confront his polar opposite.
But before he could say anything...
"Excuse me, are you Kevin Mason?"Another officer intervenes.
"Who, me?" John Witter asks.
"No, no the kid."He says pointing, as tension rises between the four men.
"Did you say Kevin Mason?"The dear cousin asks.
"Yes."
"No...but I know him...why do you ask?"
"Because that's the guy that the car belongs to. He's also a known felon and drug dealer."
John Witter's expression grows more and more shocked, yet vunerable.
"What's he talkin about Danny?"He asks dumbfounded.
"I borrowed it from the guy...I had no idea he was a criminal."
"Is that so?" The young officer asks.
"Would it be alright if we asked you a couple of questions?"The other officer asks taking his arm.
"Apparently I don't have a choice."He says following the officer into another room.
"Pacey..."Father Witter begins.
"Looks like cousin Danny isn't as innocent as we all thought huh?"Pacey asks cheerfully, purposely trying to deflect any and all attention from himself.
"Something tells me you have bigger things to worry about." He says solemn.
Pacey's smile fades fast, as he looks over at me.
"You too Joey."He says, remaining solemn.
"You ready?"I whisper, coming to his side.
"Yeah."He says gazing at me, then wrapping his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a close embrace."Yeah, I think I am."
"You two should get to the car." Mr. Witter says, after uncomfortably clearing his throat.
It's finally time to go home...For real this time.
TBC a.s.a.p