"Jack McPhee."

"Mmm?"

"I'm going to say this one time and one time only. If you don't stop sneaking these surreptitious glances at me when you think my attention is elsewhere, I'm gonna be forced to beat the ever-loving crap out of you."

Jack looked at Jen over the tops of his sunglasses, then shrugged dismissively. "So be it. I just wish you'd reconsider going to the doctor. I think it's pretty irresponsible of you not to, is all."

"Well thanks for your unsolicited disapproval," Jen said in her irritated-but-trying-not-to-sound-like-it tone. "Maybe next time I'll ask for it."

"Whatever." He pushed his shades back into place and turned away from her.

"Guys, stop it," Joey intervened, sitting up and squinting over at the two of them sternly.

"Yeah, no one wants to listen to the two of you squabble," Pacey added.

All five remaining members of their tenacious little group were currently sprawled in various positions along the pier behind Dawson's house, letting the lazy afternoon slip slowly by. They had been enjoying a stretch of pleasant silence when Jen had sensed yet another concerned look shoot toward her from Jack, who was lying on his back next to her. His concern was oddly irritating. She wanted to forget about the morning's events and just relish this easy, uncomplicated time with old friends. Damn Jack for his valid worries. Irresponsible. One more twig thrown on her bonfire of insecurity.

"Squabble?" Jen said, pushing her annoyance at Jack aside with an amused smirk toward Pacey. "Sorry, Pace, I didn't realize how opposed you are to squabbling."

"Are you making fun of my word choice, Lindley? Because I'll have you know that what you and your gay counterpart over there are doing is the very definition of squabbling. In case you're not as enlightened as yours truly, that's classified as a noisy altercation over matters that are usually petty and trivial."

Joey burst out laughing, a fresh, simple sound that melded into the brightness of the day. "Have you been studying vocabulary, Pacey?" she asked. "Planning to take your SATs and finally for that ever-elusive college degree, are you?"

"Ouch," Jack said with a laugh.

"That was brutal, Jo." Pacey said, but he was smiling. "You'd think I'd be impervious to your heartless remarks after all these years, but alas..."

Jen couldn't help but shoot her own surreptitious glance their way, just in time to catch the look that passed between them. The spark. It was there, same as it always had been. God only knew why they were so blind to it themselves. Why did Joey have to be so ... Joey? Not for the first time, Jen felt a pang of regret for her friends, and a new emotion, as well: an odd sense of responsibility that she couldn't quite attribute to anything that made sense. Suddenly she couldn't shake the feeling that she was failing them. She thought of Christopher, Joey's laughably brooding artist boyfriend who wanted to marry her. She thought of the sparkle that Joey's eyes never had when they met for drinks at their bar in New York and skated around all things Capeside. The sparkle that was so evident right now as she looked at the man who would happily rip out his beating heart and hand it to her if called upon to do so.

What must it be like to be loved like that? To love like that? She had loved David, she supposed, at least as far as she could overlook his glaring flaws (and hadn't she managed to develop a kind of selective perception where those were concerned, so that she almost didn't notice them toward the end? She thought so). But it had never been like what Joey and Pacey shared, then and now—whether they knew it or not.

She felt a hand on her arm and looked over at Dawson, who was stretched out on her other side.

"You okay?" he asked quietly, so no one else could hear.

"Damn, not you, too," she protested wearily.

He smiled gently. "Easy there ... I just meant because you sighed."

"I did?"

"Yes. And it didn't sound like a meaningless 'Jack's getting on my nerves' sigh, either."

Jen nodded. "Yeah, well. It probably wasn't. But I'm fine."

"Of course she is. We're all fine, aren't we Jackers?" Pacey chimed in cheerfully. "Our only problem, collectively, is that we're hot. Let's remedy that, shall we? Who's with me?" He looked at Joey and nodded toward the sparkling water below.

She shook her head. "Oh no, I don't think so."

"What's the matter, Potter, is the New York businesswoman you've become too good for a dip in the waters of your youth?" He reached down between his dangling legs and scooped up a handful of water. Joey's eyes widened and she opened her mouth to say "Don't you dare," but Pacey was faster, and his aim was good. With a squeal, Joey splashed back at him, her face dripping wet.

This exchange ended, inevitably, with both of them jumping off the pier into the water. Jack joined them, sliding slowly from the wooden edge with a profane exclamation about how damn cold the damn creek always was.

Jen glanced over at Dawson. "All right, cut it out."

"Cut what out?"

"Looking at them like an old man who's trying to remember what it's like to be young. In case you've forgotten, you Iare/I young."

"Why do I feel so old then?"

"Because we lived hard as adolescents." She leaned back on her elbows and closed her eyes against the soothing, warm sunlight. "I think we went through more crap in our first eighteen years, as a group, than a lot of people do in their whole existences. That makes it easy to feel old. Plus, you have your own television show. That makes me feel old."

"Look who's talking, mom-to-be."

"Yeah, well, I'm trying to puzzle out the mystery of how that happened myself."

"You don't know?"

"Oh, so funny."

Dawson sighed. Out in the water, Jack joined in Joey and Pacey's water fight, and their laughter and shouts added an unmistakable, nostalgic summer quality to the day. "I just ... I miss her, you know?"

"I know."

"And I can't help it. No matter how many years go by and how far removed we are from what happened back then, when I look at them together I'm hit in the gut with all those same old emotions. The resentment toward him, the unrequited love for her. It's like I'm doomed to live the rest of my life caught up in the tumultuous love triangle that was my entire youth."

Jen opened her eyes again and looked at him seriously. "You've got to let it go," she said. When he started to interrupt, she shook her head. "Wait. I'm not saying it's wrong of you to feel that way. You should never have to apologize for emotions because it's not like you can control them. But you can choose not to let them drag you down. Love Joey. Remember the good times with Pacey. Just let go of the bitter stuff." She gave him a sympathetic smile. "I know it's hard. Believe me. If I can let go of my bitterness toward the guy who knocked me up and then brushed me off like a cheap date, I think you can manage something approaching forgiveness for someone who was once your best friend."

Dawson didn't say anything for awhile. Finally he looked at her. "How did you get to be so wise at such a young age?"

She smiled. "Practice. When your friends are the hopeless tangles of mixed-up baggage that mine are, you pick up some sorting techniques pretty quickly."

A loud, exasperated groan made both of them look up. "Is it too much to ask that we make it through one measly afternoon without any two people in this group feeling it necessary to have a heart-to-heart?" Jack demanded. "Jen and Dawson, you're killing our buzz. Now get in the damn cold water before I come over there and pull you in."

Jen smiled at Dawson. "Shall we?" she asked.

"What the hell?" he said, shrugging, and together they slipped into the damn cold water.