1998
December. His last few days of school before Christmas Break had their ups and downs. He got in a minor car accident while borrowing his dad's patrol cruiser, for which he could almost guarantee he would pay dearly for later, but he did have a little fun messing with that new girl, Andie McPhee. She was an annoying yet amusing mixture of hyper perkiness and do-gooder gullibility that made her an easy target. Dawson and Joey were at puke-levels of new coupledom, but with the surprising help of Andie he scored a promising date with senior cheerleader, Kristy Livingstone. Except the "date" proved to be a mortifying disaster.
December 23. He arrived home from his shift at the video store to find his father waiting up for him in the living room. His dad didn't say a word upon his arrival, just drank from his beer and stared. The way the Sheriff looked at him tied his guts into knots of fear. He glanced about the room and saw empty beer cans on the coffee table. "Hi, Dad…"
His father gave him a scornful look. "Bessie Potter called earlier. She's interested in buying the truck. She also wanted to thank you for driving Joey to see their dad. She said it meant a lot to Joey and she appreciates what you did for her."
He only nodded in reply, unsure where this conversation was heading.
"My son. Taking my truck. Without my permission. To the state pen. To visit a criminal."
"I didn't visit anyone, Dad. I just drove."
The Sheriff's face hardened. "You bribed a guard… so your little girlfriend could visit a convicted felon."
He said nothing in reply. He didn't know where the "girlfriend" comment came from, but there was no use denying the twenty dollars he slipped the man at the gate; Bessie had obviously told him how Joey was able to manage to see her dad in the middle of the night.
"We try to instill good values in our children, but then there's selfish, self-centered Pacey who only cares about himself. Are you determined to make this family a laughingstock? To make a mockery out of the badge I wear? To drag my name through the mud?"
Unable to stop himself, he laughed out of spite. Sheriff John Witter preaching about good values and being selfless? What horseshit. His father pursed his lips, drawing his mouth into a thin line of barely-concealed hatred, and then came at him. Taking a step back, he flinched and braced himself for impact.
1999
January. New Year's Eve party at the Ice House. They had originally planned to hold the party at the Leery's since their Christmas Eve party had been cancelled, but whatever weirdness was going on with Mitch and Gail had also rendered a New Year's get-together impossible. The clock struck midnight. Surrounded by half of their sophomore class, he watched Dawson and Joey embrace and kiss. He turned away, the twinge of jealousy he felt inside his chest filling him with frustration, and escaped into the kitchen, where he found Bessie and her boyfriend.
"Hey, Pacey," Bodie greeted. "You looking for food?"
"No, I'm not hungry. Thanks, anyway." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "You two need any help back here?"
Bessie eyed him. "Aren't you enjoying the party?"
He pursed his lips and shrugged. "It's a little too wild out there for me. But seriously, you guys need a hand?"
"I'll take any help I can get," Bodie replied with a smile. He then nodded at a small package covered in shiny blue wrapping paper dotted with snowflakes that sat on the work bench against the wall near the back door. "I saw you bring that in earlier. What is it?"
"Joey's Christmas present. I know it's late, but I haven't seen her since school let out for break." He hadn't seen Dawson either, and a week spent at home with nowhere to go and nothing to do was the absolute worst. It was some consolation that Dawson had remembered his existence and invited him over for Christmas Eve despite the party's cancellation, but after the late-night fight with his father over taking the truck to drive Joey to the state penitentiary to visit a convicted felon, something Sheriff John Witter could not abide by, any public appearances were out of the question. After getting smacked hard enough to fall to the floor, he'd automatically stuck out his hand to break his fall and subsequently had spent the past week nursing a sprained wrist and a busted lip.
He watched Bodie throw a pointed look Bessie's way, who thrust her tongue in her cheek and shook her head in response. "Ahh," he said. "Yeah, she's been rather preoccupied lately. Well, I'm sure she'll appreciate the gift."
Frowning, he had his doubts. Moments later, Bodie put him to work and the two moved about the kitchen together, slicing and dicing. They soon were dishing up more hors d'oeuvres for the party guests. "Feel like returning to the party?" Bessie asked him as she filled up some platters to serve.
"I think I'd rather stay in here, if that's all right?" The thought of watching Dawson and Joey canoodle happily in some dark corner didn't exactly put him in a festive mood. His life was a shitshow and they were as oblivious to it as ever. After helping Bodie clean up the kitchen, he went to the back door and lifted his coat from one of the hooks on the wall. He shrugged it on and reached for the doorknob when a voice interrupted him.
"You're leaving?"
He turned to see Joey had walked into the kitchen. She was staring at him with knitted brows and pursed lips. "Pacey, I haven't seen you in over a week and you haven't said a single word to me all night."
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he nodded. "What did you want me to say, Jo?"
"Well, 'hello' would've been a good start," she snarked.
"Hello," he deadpanned. "And goodbye." Turning around, he again reached for the doorknob.
"Are you mad at me or something?"
He closed his eyes and sighed. "If I was mad about something, I'd thoroughly enjoy reaming you out about it, but I honestly have nothing to say. So, no. I'm not mad."
She walked around the table and stepped closer to him. "Yes, you are. When you're really upset about something, you get quiet and just avoid people and don't talk to anyone. So, you're obviously not happy about something. What that could be, I have no idea, but if..."
"Why didn't you go to Paris?" he blurted out. He hadn't planned on or wanted to confront her about this, but it had been eating away at him ever since Dawson told him that Joey would be staying in Capeside next semester. His friend had been grinning ear to ear as if it was the best news in the world and he'd felt the inexplicable urge to smack the grin off his face. He watched her own face turn red. "Give me one good reason, other than you wanted to spend next semester making out with Dawson instead of going after something you've wanted for as long as you can remember."
She swallowed, hesitating to answer, her vulnerability briefly exposed before she walled it up again. Her posture became defensive. "I had plenty of valid reasons for not going."
"Bullshit. You stayed here because it was easier. Because as much as you bitch about Capeside and wanting to get the hell out of here, spending six months in France away from everything you're familiar with would actually challenge you for once. And we both know you're way too scared to deal with any kind of real change. You stayed here because Dawson is comfortable and easy and life with him is safe and predictable, and God forbid you actually take a chance on something." He realized he'd almost said 'someone,' but quickly pushed that thought away.
Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open; her face got even redder. "Whether I go to Paris or not doesn't concern you, Pacey. I don't owe you any explanations. How could you possibly understand how I feel? To spend the last several years of your life feeling like no one loves you at all, and then suddenly someone does and it's worth any sacrifice. How could you ever possibly understand what it is to love someone more than anything, to love someone more than yourself? Well, you wouldn't know how that feels because you're just a self-centered, self-absorbed, selfish asshole."
It was if she'd sucker punched him to the gut. Is that really what she thought of him? "You're right, Potter. How could I possibly know how it feels to think no one loves you? Except the difference is that I actually know it. Something you just imagined about yourself is a daily reality for me." As he turned away and placed a hand on the doorknob, he gestured to the wrapped gift on the work bench. "I brought that over for you. I went shopping with Gretchen in Boston a couple weeks ago and saw that and thought of you. I had planned on giving it to you at the Leery's Christmas Eve party, but... Anyway, it's an Eiffel Tower snow globe. Merry Christmas." Then he opened the door and walked out into the cold night air.
January 8. The end of the first week back to school following break, the day of his written driver's test at the DMV, and his 16th birthday. It should've been a momentous event, but if the day was any indicator of how the rest of the year was going to treat him, then he was better off finding the nearest cave and hibernating until the 21st century. He threw himself a party and at first no one he knew showed up except Andie, bound and determined to irritate the hell out of him, but then Dawson showed up, impervious to his pain as ever. Later on, his friend was genuinely apologetic and insisted on doing their previously-planned road trip to Maine, but Mitch and Gail quickly squashed that idea.
The following night, he made his way over to the Ice House to avoid eating dinner with his parents. He sat at the counter and chatted with Andie's brother while he ate a burger and fries. Jack soon disappeared into the kitchen, and a few minutes later, Joey emerged carrying a plate with a large slice of black forest cake, one of the Ice House's specialties. Atop the cake was a lit number sixteen candle, and she set it on the counter and smiled at him. He smiled back at her. Time seemed to stand still.
"Happy birthday, Pacey. I'm really sorry I forgot."
He gazed at her—his words caught somewhere in the back of his throat.
She blushed and started rambling nervously. "I mean, you didn't forget my sixteenth birthday. You've never forgotten my birthday, actually. You may have missed a party here and there for weird reasons, but you've always remembered it. And so, I just feel terrible. Turning sixteen is a big deal, and we blew it. You should've gotten a full-blown decorated cake with all the candles and a real party and gifts, but this is all I…"
"This is perfect," he interrupted, having finally found his voice. "Thank you, Joey."
She averted her eyes from his in that cute embarrassed way of hers and tucked her hair behind her ears. He stared at her until her gaze met his again. "Well, make a wish and blow out your candle."
He nodded and then looked down at the slice of cake. What should he wish for? What did he want most in the world? He wasn't sure. Just to be happy, he supposed. It seemed like a long shot. It's not like it really mattered, though. Wishes didn't come true, at least not for him. But maybe tonight was special, somehow, and The Powers That Be were actually smiling down on him for once. Closing his eyes, he made a quick silent request. Opening them, he blew out the candle.
He looked up to see Joey smiling at him, and then removed the candle. "Look, I'm sorry that I was so hard on you about Paris. You were right. Whether you go or not, or what your reasons are, is none of my business. I guess I just thought you were throwing away an opportunity of a lifetime, and I know if that were me, I'd jump at the chance to get the hell out of here."
"Thanks. And I'm sorry for blowing up at you about it, Pacey. The things I said to you... I shouldn't have reacted like that. I don't know why I did..."
He thought he knew the reason—he'd hit the nail on the head. "It's okay. Let's just forget about it." He glanced down at the plate in front of him. "Get yourself a fork, Jo. Birthday cake is supposed to be shared."
She smiled, her eyes sparkling with excitement, and she reached below the counter for a fork. He remembered his comment to Jen about having "a case of the Molly Ringwalds" and smiled to himself. Then they sat in comfortable silence, savoring the chocolatey dessert.
About a week later, while walking back from an empty real estate property and his last run-in with Tamara Jacobs, he turned a corner and walked right into Joey Potter.
"Pacey!"
"Sorry! Oh, hi." She looked exactly how he felt, and he wondered if she was having just as confusing and upsetting a day as he'd been having.
She took a step back and straightened out her shirt. "So, what are you up to? You're apparently so busy you can't seem to pay attention where you're walking," she teased.
He gave her a look of annoyance and scowled. "You walked into me just as much as I walked into you, okay? So, why don't you pay attention to where you're going?"
"Geez, Pacey. What bug crawled up your butt?"
"Probably the same one that's been up your ass for sixteen years."
For a moment he thought she was going to yell at him, but instead she laughed. "Seriously, what's the matter? What's your problem?"
He opened his mouth to answer, but instantly thought better of it. He could almost guarantee she wouldn't entertain any conversations about Ms. Jacobs. "Nothing. Just a regular bad day in a long line of bad days that make up my pathetic existence. What problem are you dealing with? Dawson?"
"Why does my problem have to be Dawson?"
"Because, Jo, your problem is always Dawson. When is it not Dawson?"
She closed her eyes, her face falling, and she shrugged in defeat. "I… well, maybe my problem is Dawson, or me. Both of us? I don't know. It would take too long to explain it."
He shoved his hands in his pockets and pursed his lips, nodding. "I'm not busy."
"Okay…" She chewed on her lip as she turned on her heel, and they began walking together in the direction of the Ice House. "So, after our Econ project, I kind of got into art."
"Like painting and drawing, or…?"
She nodded. "Yeah. And I like it. I didn't think I'd be any good and I was kind of nervous to try it, but I really am enjoying it and it's become important to me."
It made sense. "That's understandable because of your mom, since she was an artist."
"What?" She stopped walking and stared at him. "You actually remember that? I mean, Dawson didn't even…"
"Well, your mom did that stuff all the time—drawing and painting. She did a picture of Dumbo one year for my birthday. I've still got it."
They began walking again and she was silent for a few minutes. "Anyway, Dawson called my 'art thing' a hobby and he was basically jealous that I was spending time doing something for myself, that I wanted to maybe keep it as something just for myself. Then he acted all dismissive and superior about it."
Typical. Dawson hates to lose. "You mean, art was encroaching on the claim he's made to be your number one priority at all times? And you being wrapped up in anything that wasn't involving him or his interests made him uncomfortable? Because he cares more about how you can make him happy instead of what makes you happy?"
She frowned, saying nothing in reply. They walked on in silence. He wondered if he was having yet another Pinter moment. She then turned to him. "Well, I talked. So, spill. What's eating you?"
"You don't want to know."
"Come on, Pacey."
"No, I'm serious. You really don't want to know."
She sighed and gave him a look of disbelief. "It can't be that bad. I can take it."
He scoffed, shaking his head. "If there's one thing you can't take, it's this. Trust me. Because anything having to do with sex immediately sets you on edge, particularly where I'm concerned. Why do you think that is?"
"That's not true," she denied. Yet her body language instantly betrayed her. "But you're right, I really don't want to hear the gory details of your sex life."
"See, Jo? That's what I mean. Why does sex have to be 'gory'? It can actually be nice, you know. Passionate and meaningful. Except, well, you wouldn't know, would ya?"
She scowled, shaking her head. "And you really wouldn't either. All you know about sex is from a woman twice your age who should be in jail for what she did to you. That's not nice, Pacey. She used you and took advantage of your immaturity and inexperience."
He stared at her in shock. "Used me? If anything, I used her. I was the horny teenage virgin who was constantly flirting with her and I instigated the whole thing."
"That doesn't matter, Pacey. You were a 15-year-old boy with a crush. She was a grown woman who should've known better. She should've nipped your silly flirtation in the bud and not let it go as far as it did."
He shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Is there anything you don't have an opinion on? Life must be really exhausting for you, Potter."
She stopped walking and grasped hold of his arm, and he halted, turning towards her. "Pacey, what if that had been me? What if innocent, fifteen-year-old sophomore, Joey Potter, had started screwing a teacher in his thirties? How would you feel about that? What would you think of that teacher?"
He suddenly remembered the party back in October, and that creep who had walked Joey down the beach to get her away from everyone so he could do whatever he wanted with her. He pictured some teacher putting his hands on her. He'd want to cut his balls off.
"What happened to you isn't any different, Pacey. You were fifteen, and so of course it's to be expected that you'd have poor judgment, like most teenagers. There is a reason minors aren't able to give consent. You were the child. She was the adult. She was the authority figure. What she did was a crime. She knew it was a crime, and she did it anyway. She had no concern for your well-being. She used you for her own gratification. Any adult who looks at a fifteen-year-old boy and chooses him for a sex partner has serious problems."
A part of him knew what Joey was saying was right, but another part of him couldn't wrap his head around this depiction of Tamara. She had cared about him—she told him so. She even said she had missed him. What they had was more than just the sex, at least he thought so. It had felt real, like she truly cared. Hadn't she? He felt his mood sinking even more.
Joey sighed. "Honestly, Pace, I don't mean to be so hard on you about it. I guess… I just feel really bad for you. I know Ms. Jacobs meant a lot to you, but your first time should've been special. It should've been with someone your own age, someone you truly loved and who loved you back the same way."
"Yeah? And where am I going to find one of those?" he snarked, sounding more bitter than he'd intended.
"I think that Andie girl likes you," she grinned. "For some odd reason I can't figure out."
He snorted. "Yeah, so I've heard."
Joey smiled. "I've seen her following you around school like a lost puppy. She's cute—in that real high-strung, perky way that would probably drive cynical northeastern depressives like us absolutely nuts."
"There's a certain charm to her perkiness, I'll admit." He thought of her prank with Kristy Livingstone, the way she kept calling him "Officer Pacey" in an increasingly flirtatious way, and smiled to himself. "So, what are you gonna do about Dawson?" he asked, changing the subject.
Her smile turned into a frown and she gave him a worried look. "I don't know." She chewed on her lip for a moment. "What are you gonna do about Andie?"
"I don't know."
They walked on in silence and he decided it was definitely another Pinter moment.
January 30. It was late on Saturday night when he left Andie's house. He didn't really feel like going home, so he made his way over to the Leery's. As he approached the house, he saw Joey coming down off the ladder. "Hey," he called out, walking towards her. He noticed her despondent expression and wondered what was wrong.
"Hey. I'm not sure you wanna go in there tonight, Pacey."
"Why? Did you break up with Dawson?"
Her eyes widened. "What?! No! Of course not. Why would you even say something like that?"
Noticing her defensiveness, he wondered if he had struck a nerve. "I don't know," he replied, even though the idea of her and Dawson breaking up wouldn't have surprised him in the slightest. "I guess because of the whole art thing. And you also seem agitated. I mean, let's be honest, Jo. You're usually agitated about something, but you just seem… off."
"It's been a weird night," she sighed, and started fidgeting with her fingers, avoiding eye contact. "The full moon and all. Mitch and Gail are imploding, and Dawson's taking it really hard." Masking her emotions, she finally looked up at him and gave him a fake smile. "So, how was your first date with Andie? You went to the movies, right?"
He laughed sarcastically. "Uh, no. We didn't actually make it to the movie theater. I had a weird night, too."
She nodded, pursing her lips. "Do you think there will be a second date?"
Grinning, he felt his face redden. "Yeah, I think so."
"I'm happy for you, Pacey."
"Thanks." He glanced up at the house. "Well, I suppose if the Leery's are having a rough night, they probably don't want me hanging around. So, goodnight, Joey. See you at school." She nodded and he turned to walk home.
"Um… Pacey?"
He turned back around and gave her an expectant look.
She stepped towards him, somewhat apprehensively. "Um… I came here from the Ice House and I don't have my row boat. Do you… Do you think you could walk me home? It's late and the full moon has me kind of spooked."
He smiled. "Sure, Potter. Let's go."
She returned his smile and together they walked away from Dawson's house. When they reached Joey's porch, she thanked him.
"No problem."
"So, you're gonna go home now?"
He shrugged. "I might walk around a while and hopefully kill some time. Maybe by the time I get home my dad would've already gone upstairs to bed and passed out."
She gave him a sympathetic look. "Look, Pacey… if you want to crash on my bedroom floor tonight, it's okay. Really."
His mouth went dry and he swallowed. His heart started pounding beneath his ribs. Then Andie's face danced in front of his eyes. "If you had made the offer a few weeks ago, I might've taken you up on it, but I don't think it's a good idea, Jo."
"Um… okay." He thought he almost saw a glimpse of disappointment in her confused expression, or maybe that was just wishful thinking. "You could take the living room couch? Bessie won't mind."
"That's all right, but thanks, anyway." If he was going to give whatever this thing with Andie McPhee was a real shot, then the less time he spent alone with Joey, the better. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Pacey."
February. The inevitable breakup occurred. Dawson and Joey were finished, at least for the time being. Their blowup at the school dance—and Jack McPhee's involvement—was being gossiped about in the halls, and he was trying his best to stay out of it. Then they all ended up at Chris Wolfe's house, although thankfully Jack was not in attendance to make the night even more uncomfortable than it ended up being.
It was obvious Dawson was taking the breakup really hard. "I don't know. I seem to have trouble saying a lot of things lately, you know?"
He honestly had no idea what was going on with Joey since they hadn't talked since the dance. But he knew her well enough—and Dawson well enough—to know that she needed a lot more freedom to be her own person than that co-dependent relationship could give her. Dawson's world revolved around Dawson and his aspirations, and he wouldn't be satisfied unless Joey's world revolved around the same. In the movie that was Dawson's mind, Joey could be whatever he wanted her to be, but real-life Joey was her own person. If he wanted to hold onto her, he'd have to change, and if there was one thing both Dawson and Joey were terrible at, it was change.
He stepped closer to his friend while gazing at Joey, sitting at the table studying. "You know what?" he asked.
"What?"
He grasped Dawson by the shoulder. "Try harder."
Later on, while in the kitchen getting a soda, Joey walked into the room. "Hey, Pace."
He turned and gave her a weak smile. "Hey. You want a drink?" he asked, gesturing to the refrigerator.
"Sure."
He grabbed another Coca-Cola and handed it to her. "Caffeine and sugar will get us through this study session, if nothing else will."
She snorted, rolling her eyes, and popped open the can of soda.
"Hey, I… I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry things aren't really working out with you and Dawson." It was partly true, he told himself. Or maybe it was half a lie.
"Thanks." She took a swig of soda and then licked her lips. "So, where's Andie? I haven't seen her."
"I don't know," he shrugged. "She's not talking to me right now, but she's gotta be somewhere in this massive house. She'll get over it. At least I hope so. This Sunday is Valentine's Day and I want it to be special."
"Not talking to you?" She knitted her brows and gave him a look. "Uh oh. What'd you do?"
"Ms. Jacobs."
Joey gave him a yikes look. "Sorry, Pace." She heaved a sigh. "We never should've taken that stupid quiz."
He pursed his lips, thinking. "Well, I don't know. It's probably good that some stuff gets laid out in the open… not that in front of an entire group at Chris Wolfe's house is the best place for it."
"I think telling the truth was brave of you, if that's any consolation," she said. "It couldn't have been easy, considering… I think most guys wouldn't have been so honest."
"Maybe I'm not most guys, Jo."
She arched her brow and gave him a sarcastic look. "Pacey Witter: truth-teller." She laughed to herself.
He smirked. "What?"
"Do you find it strange that we, of all people, tend to wind up commiserating with one another? I mean, it's not like we're actually friends."
"We're not?" he replied, furrowing his brows.
She shrugged. "You know what I mean. We don't, like, hang out on purpose. We don't sit together at lunch. We don't hang out at each other's houses for movie nights. You and I aren't friends like me and Dawson are friends—or were friends—or like you and Dawson are friends."
Watching her purse her lips and tuck her hair behind her ears, that familiar longing feeling began to well up inside his chest. He quickly shoved it down. "No. We aren't."
"I mean, we've known each other just as long. I know you hated my guts when we were kids, but…"
"What?" He laughed in disbelief and started walking towards the doorway. "Joey, if you and I aren't friends, I'm not the reason." He turned to look at her. Their eyes met and held for a long moment, unspoken words hanging in the air between them. She parted her lips to speak, but he didn't want to hear it. He just wanted to get away from her. "Anyway, I'm gonna go find Andie and see if she's ready to talk to me. See ya."
Two days later, while eating lunch with Andie, Jack sat down at their table, announcing he'd scored a date with Joey. He didn't know what to think. Being caught between his best friend and Andie's brother, not to mention his own confusing dynamic with Joey, was not going to be pleasant. He was determined to stay out of it and keep his distance from yet another love triangle, and just focus on the only good thing in his life: Andie.
He had never wished death upon anyone like he did Abby Morgan. Hearing the thunder overhead and the pouring rain outside, he hoped she'd get hit by lightning. As he walked out of school, cursing her name and praying she rots in hell, Joey's voice interrupted his reverie.
"Hey, Pace?"
Closing his eyes, he hung his head. He didn't really want to deal with her opinions about his character and her lectures on morality. Begrudgingly, he turned around. "Yes, Jo?"
"Can you give me a ride home?"
He blinked. "Uh… sure." He stood on the verandah, staring at the parking lot. There was no way to avoid getting soaked. "We're gonna have to make a run for it. Ready?"
"I don't know... I think we should walk. It's safer."
"Why walk when we can run?"
She nodded and hoisted her backpack over both shoulders. "But I don't know if I can run, Pacey. I don't want to slip and fall and break something. Wouldn't that just be the perfect ending to this day in hell?"
He held out his hand, fixing her with a steady gaze. "I won't let you fall, Potter. Trust me."
Smiling apprehensively, she slipped her palm inside his. He closed his hand around hers, holding her tight. "Come on." They ran together through the rain and to the parking lot, quickly jumping into the Witter station wagon. They gazed at each other, both soaked to the skin, and laughed. But it wasn't long before his face fell, his heart sinking within him as thoughts of Andie swirled inside his head.
"Do… you want to talk about it?" Joey ventured kindly.
"I got an A on the History quiz."
She gave him a confused look. "That's great, Pacey. But I don't understand what that has to do with…"
He sighed. "I've never gotten an A before. I mean, Andie has completely… My life is slowly starting to change, for the better, and suddenly things don't seem so hopeless anymore. She makes me feel like maybe I'm not a lost cause after all, which is a completely new feeling for me."
"You were never a lost cause, Pacey. That's your dad talking and you shouldn't listen to his crap because it's not true."
He started the car and began pulling out of the parking space. "Yeah, well… maybe if he was the only Witter who ever said such things, but we both know that's not the case. Other than Gretchen, I'm the bane of their existence."
Joey started playing with her fingers and stared down at her lap. "So, you and Andie had sex, and now you regret it?"
"Regret is a strong word," he replied, turning onto the road. "We don't need to talk about this, Joey. We both know sex isn't a topic you enjoy discussing."
"Because I'm a prude, right?" She scowled. "You know, Pacey, just because I don't particularly like talking about it doesn't mean I don't think about it or want it. Not right now, of course, but you know… I will, eventually." She blushed. "Look, you can talk to me about whatever's bothering you with Andie, if you need someone to talk to. Or don't talk. No sweat off my back."
He rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine. It was really special, but we haven't been dating that long. What if we went too fast and now it all falls apart because there wasn't a strong foundation? A real relationship before rushing into it? What if I should've made the mature decision instead of being ruled by my hormones for once? And the thing is, it wasn't just hormones. It really wasn't. It wasn't just sex and wanting to get off. It was more than that, so much more that I don't even know how to put it into words, and that scares me. I feel like I can't lose Andie—not now and not ever. But my life up until this point has been nothing but shit, and so how can I not expect the worst? Maybe we're moving too fast and should hit the brakes, you know?"
"Pacey Witter, giving serious thought and consideration to his actions? Color me shocked." She smirked, her eyes sparkling humorously. "If you want my opinion—and I know you rarely do—it sounds like you're in love with her."
He let out a shaky breath. "Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of. The other shoe is bound to drop." They drove on in silence until they arrived at her house.
She reached for the door handle and then turned towards him. "Thanks for the ride."
Nodding, he gave her a weak smile. "No problem, Jo."
"Pacey," she said as she opened the car door. "Don't be so afraid of losing someone you love, that you refuse to love anyone. Fear makes us run away from the people we want most or cling to the people we know aren't right for us, but it won't bring any happiness to our lives. Loving is scary, but not loving is even more terrifying."
"You're one to talk, Potter."
She sighed and stepped out of the car. "I'm a work in progress, Pacey. We all are."
After she closed the car door, he watched her run through the rain and disappear inside her house. Her words danced around his head the rest of his drive home.
March. Andie started going to therapy. Dawson was busy making his movie about his never-ending obsession with Joey. The clusterfuck that was the fishing trip then rolled around. The next day at school following the father-son weekend from hell, he met with a tutor in the library at Mr. Milo's suggestion. He had thought Andie was a good enough homework partner, but Milo had implored him to give it a try during his study halls. Sitting in a cubicle with the tutor, a senior on the math team, he worked on his geometry problems.
It wasn't long before he heard backpacks and books being dropped on a table on the other side of the cubicle, and then he heard voices. His left hand froze, his pencil coming to an abrupt stop. The voices belonged to Andie, Jen, and Joey. He turned to the tutor. "Hey, I think we can stop for the day," he whispered.
The tutor only stared at him. "Mr. Milo said I might have trouble reining you in."
"What?"
"Yeah. He said you were likely to clown around and not take this seriously and try to get out of it, at least at first until you finally realize that the right thing is just to do what you're supposed to do. So, why don't you save the time and energy and just do the work? You have 12 more problems to do. You can leave when they're finished."
He gave her an exasperated look, sighed, and went back to work. That is, until an unwelcome voice rent the air.
"Hi, ladies. More female bonding?"
"Ugh, go away, Abby," said Joey.
She tutted. "Now, now. Didn't we all have a nice time at the Leery's this weekend? There's nothing like an afternoon of Good Will Humping to bring people closer together, eh?"
His brows furrowed over the page and he tried to focus on the word problem in front of him.
"And why should it end there? I say we should all get to know one another better."
"No one wants to get to know you better, Abby," Joey snarked.
Jen laughed. "Now, come on," Andie spoke up. "Let's try to at least be civil for all our sakes."
He heard another backpack drop on the table. "Thank you, Andie. I think I'm up for more girl talk, and let's start with you. There's something I've been dying to ask. What's sex with Pacey like?"
"I don't want to talk about this, or hear about it."
"I wasn't talking to you, Joey," Abby snapped. "No one cares about your weird hang-ups."
His pencil had frozen still again and he could feel the tutor's eyes on him. He didn't want to be hearing this. "Let's move to another spot in the library," he whispered.
"I quite like it here," said his tutor pointedly, a mean glint in her eye.
Andie huffed. "I don't see how that's any of your business, Abby."
"You're the one here who's getting some on a regular basis, Andie, so those of us who are lacking can live vicariously through your experiences with Pacey." She paused. "Right, Joey?"
"Got to hell, Abby."
Jen scoffed. "Maybe we shouldn't talk about this, huh?"
"I wholeheartedly agree."
Abby laughed. "Well, of course you don't want to talk about it, Andie. Based on his reputation, I don't blame you at all."
"What do you mean, 'his reputation?' Abby, I'll have you know Pacey is the perfect gentleman."
Clenching his jaw muscles, he heard her scoff in reply. "Yeah, right. 'Perfect gentleman,' my ass. Would a perfect gentleman bend Ms. Jacobs over her desk every day?"
"It never happened in school," Andie retorted hotly.
"How do you know?" Abby replied. "You weren't even here."
"Pacey told me."
Abby laughed. "Please. As if he'd tell you the truth about his scandalous affair. I thought you were smart, Andie."
Jen spoke up. "Abby, stop it. Leave her alone."
"Pacey may be a lot of things, Abby, but he's not a liar."
"Okay, fine. Pacey Witter is a beacon of honesty. So, Andie, how good of a teacher was Ms. Jacobs? How would you say he holds up in the bedroom? Can he cut the mustard?"
He felt his face redden and he wanted to run from the room. He could feel the tutor gazing at him. Staring down at the page he tried to will his ears closed, but no such luck.
Joey heaved a sigh of frustration. "I don't want to hear about this anymore. Let's change the subject." He thought she sounded rattled. Shocker.
"Jesus," Abby cursed. "Why are you getting so bent out of shape? It's just sex. Relax."
"I really don't want to hear the gory details about Pacey because I'll vomit all over the floor," Joey carped.
He heard a pen slam down on the table. "There's nothing gory about it. And I'll have you know, Abby, that Pacey is loving and kind and gentle, and I'm sick of hearing you bad-mouth him. And as far as the answer to the totally inappropriate and rude question you're asking, I have no cause for complaints. That's all I'm going to say."
"So, what you're saying is that he makes you come. I'm glad to hear it. A guy should know how to please his girlfriend."
"That's it," Joey fumed. "I'm leaving." He heard her gather up books and a backpack, and she walked away from their table.
"Joey," Jen called out after her.
Abby laughed derisively. "If anyone in Capeside is in serious need of a healthy boinkfest, it's Joey Potter. That girl has issues."
More books were picked up off the desk. "You're such a bitch, Abby," Jen scolded, before walking away from the table.
He looked at the tutor beside him, and her mouth curved maliciously. "You still have twelve problems to finish. I suggest you hurry."
At lunch, after complaining about the sadistic tutor Mr. Milo had set him up with, Andie filled him in on what happened in the library. "Abby loves to create drama," she told him. "She said so herself yesterday at the Leery's."
"Abby is a sociopath," he replied. Then he smirked at her. "Well, I'm glad you gave me a positive performance review."
She rolled her eyes, fighting a grin. "You're such a pig."
He nodded, standing up from the table and swinging his backpack over one shoulder. "You're right. I am. We should probably break up."
She stood up and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Totally. I never want to see you again."
He pulled her close and pressed his forehead to hers. "I agree. Well, at least until tonight. I have a ton of homework. And… I'm sleeping over."
"Oh, you are, are you?" she teased.
"Maintaining a quality performance is important to me."
She giggled and then tilted her head up to kiss him. He watched her walk away, smiling after her. He turned to grab his lunch tray from the table and suddenly caught Joey's eye. She'd obviously been staring. Her face turned red and she quickly looked away, turning her back to him completely, and started speaking to Jack. A flurry of butterflies filled his stomach. Confused, he picked up the tray and walked away from the table.
Days passed, and then came the showdown with Peterson, his suspension from school, and subsequent fight with Andie. Not seeing her or talking to her was agonizing. On Friday night, he was at the Ice House, seated at the counter, and sipping from his Coke. It wasn't long before Joey appeared carrying a platter with nachos, setting it in front of him. "Thanks."
"So, no Andie tonight?"
"She's not talking to me," he said before popping a tortilla chip in his mouth. "Or… I'm not talking to her. We're both not talking."
She leaned forward, placing her elbows on the counter, and gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, Pace."
He shrugged. "Um, not that it's any of my business, but how are things with you and Jack?"
Her face reddened, and she averted her eyes from his gaze as she tucked her hair behind her ears.
"It's okay, Jo. I didn't mean to be nosy. I just haven't been at school all week, and with me and Andie not talking, I'm not really up to speed."
"Don't worry about it, Pacey." Her eyes met his again. "You know, I never thanked you for what you did for Jack. Standing up to Peterson took guts, and I'm glad that Jack had someone on his side in that classroom. Don't worry about Andie. You two will be all right."
He finished chewing before he spoke. "I hope so."
She smiled. "I know so. Haven't you noticed that you and Andie are, like, the happiest people in the entire sophomore class?"
"We are?"
"Seriously. It's borderline disgusting how happy you guys are."
He chuckled darkly. "Not this week."
Joey arched her brow, giving him a look. "Pacey, I can pretty much guarantee you two will make up soon enough. I've seen how good you are to her, and I've seen the way Andie looks at you."
His brows furrowed, giving her a curious expression. "How does she look at me?"
Her brown eyes sparkled with humor. "Like you're the best thing since sliced bread. How anyone who has sex with Pacey Witter on a regular basis can be so happy all the time…"
"Wouldn't you like to know," he blurted out while reaching for another tortilla chip.
His eyes quickly met hers. He hadn't meant to say that out loud. She blushed furiously at his insinuation, her lips parting, and stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights. When she finally found her voice, it was irrationally angry, as expected. She fixed her harshest scowl at him. "You wanna know why we're not really friends, Pacey? That's why. You're as deluded as ever."
He gazed after her as she stormed away from the counter, heading for the kitchen. "Yeah, that's me," he said under his breath. "Captain Delusional."
Dawson's 16th birthday. He was standing in the poster-covered bedroom of his best friend, watching him pace around the room in full-blown meltdown mode. Sometimes he felt like Dawson's whole existence was made up of whiny, overboard, self-absorbed drama.
"Come on, Dawson. You need to stop looking to the movies for answers to all of life's questions. Okay? What you need to do is figure out what it is that you want, and make it happen. Okay? Be definitive."
"You're right," his friend replied. "I need answers—definitive answers." He paused. "Joey is the answer."
He stared, unsure of what to say to that.
"I had her, I lost her, and now I'm gonna get her back. How's that for definitive?" Dawson then rushed out of the bedroom.
Unbelievable. Scratch that. It was totally believable. Why couldn't Dawson just move on with his life? He sighed and walked out of the room, heading for the stairs. How does one tell their best friend that if he were to get back together with his erstwhile girlfriend, it would only end up the same? How could he possibly tell Dawson that neither of their personalities had changed so much in their brief time apart to render a reunion successful? Joey was just as angry, sarcastic, and oversensitive as ever. Dawson was just as self-absorbed and suffocating as ever.
As he stood on the Leery's porch, he badly wanted to just tell Dawson that while he and Joey made great friends, perhaps they just weren't right for each other romantically. That in the short time they called themselves a couple, they weren't all that happy for most of it. That neither of them seemed capable of helping the other grow up. Instead, he just wished Dawson a happy birthday and walked back to the car.