November. After he rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, he began rolling white primer onto a wall. Joey was standing behind him on the other side of the room with a paintbrush. The Potter's home was quickly looking more and more like a bed & breakfast.
"You know, I think we should put up a self-portrait in the Pacey J. Witter Memorial Addition," he said.
She snorted, turning around and throwing him a sarcastic look. "Pacey, we want guests to stay here, not run away screaming."
He batted his eyelashes and adopted a feminine voice. "Paint me like one of your French girls, Joey!"
"You have snot for brains," she retorted.
He rolled his eyes. "Snot for brains? What, are we in first grade again?"
"Well, we met in first grade. It's a fitting callback."
"I know, Potter. My life was ruined forever that day," he joked.
"Sorry I stole Dawson from you and forced you to share him," she grinned.
"Nah, that's not it. He called dibs."
Joey stared at him. "What do you mean?"
The memories, long forgotten and only half remembered, were now coming forward in his mind, crystal clear. "Yeah. Well, you know, Dawson suffered from Only Child Syndrome and didn't like to share his toys. He met you first, before you came to school, and that was it. You were his friend and he wasn't going to share, especially not with me."
She didn't reply at first and went back to painting. Then she stopped and turned around again. "Do you even remember the day we met? It was so long ago."
"I remember everything." He smirked. "Well, I remember the day you walked into our classroom."
"And what did you think of little Joey Potter?" she teased.
I thought she was the prettiest thing I'd ever laid my eyes on. He shrugged his shoulders. "I have to say, I thought you were kind of hideous."
She looked affronted. "Hideous?!"
"Yeah, you walked in with a gimp and you had that huge lump on your back." He scrunched his face up in mock disgust.
"I didn't have a lump!" she laughed in disbelief.
He shrugged, pursing his lips. "I'm pretty sure you did, Jo. Total hunchback. Eventually it got smaller and now you can barely even see it. So, good for you. Still gotta work on that gimp, though."
She flicked her wrist and flung some paint on him. "You're such a doofus."
He looked down in shock at the white paint stains on his blue shirt. "You're gonna pay for that, Potter."
Adamantly shaking her head, she started stepping backwards as he reached for a brush handle. "Don't you dare, Pacey." He lifted it from the can, white primer dripping from the bristles, and shook it at her wildly, flinging paint all over. She screamed and threw her hands up to stop the assault.
"You jerk!" she said as she turned the paint back on him with her own brush. He then wrapped his arms around her, pinning her hands at her sides. She dropped the brush. "Okay, okay!"
He stared down at her. His gaze settled on her mouth. Despite her annoying personality, and the crazy paint stains all over her face and hair and clothes, and the fact that if he even thought about touching her, he'd probably get struck by lightning, he suddenly wanted to kiss her. He wanted to know what she would taste like and how she would respond. He wanted—
He felt his groin tighten. Fuck.
He quickly let her go. "Okay, truce!" He turned away and went back to the far wall and picked up the roller again.
"Geez, Pacey. Look at me. I'm covered in paint."
"It'll wash off," he replied without looking. His heart was pounding. Goddamn, he needed to get laid.
They then quietly went back to work.
"Do you want to do something later?" she asked over her shoulder after some time had passed. "We could rent a movie or… I don't know. Go out? It's Saturday. There's gotta be something we can do around town tonight. Unless you're hanging out with Dawson."
"I haven't hung out with him that much lately," he replied. He hadn't really wanted to, and wasn't exactly sure why.
She dipped her brush again into a can of white primer. "So, then you want to do something?"
"Um…" He hesitated. "I'm kinda busy later."
She scoffed. "Doing what?"
Jen Lindley, hopefully. "I have plans, Jo."
"You always have plans lately," she complained as she continued applying primer behind him.
He frowned at the wall. He'd briefly considered telling Joey about the friends-with-benefits arrangement he and Jen had made last week, but he knew it would only make her mad. He knew she couldn't possibly understand how he felt or even the concept that two people might want to have sex because they enjoy it, especially if they had gone a long time without it. He'd just end up on the receiving end of another one of her harsh, judgmental lectures on morality and his numerous character flaws, which was to be expected whenever his sex life was up for discussion.
But what was there to tell? Nothing had happened. Over the past 10 days, he and Jen had made out a few times. But what had happened? Nothing. Her blond hair, her blue eyes, her full figure—she was a beautiful girl, but he felt nothing. Certainly not arousal, much to his slowly increasing disappointment and frustration. Of course, Jen broke out into laughter every time he tried to feel her up, and needless to say, that was a major mood killer. So, there was no need to tell Joey about it because it was nothing. Yet a strange guilt had begun to settle in the pit of his stomach and it made him feel uneasy. But what had he done? Nothing.
"I can't be at your beck and call, Potter," he snapped, feeling inexplicably angry. "Get yourself a boyfriend." The sound of her brush stopped. Guilt suddenly twisted sharply in his gut. He closed his eyes, sighing, and turned around. She stared at the wall, keeping her back to him. "I'm sorry, Joey. I didn't mean it."
She kept her back to him and didn't reply for several moments. "You didn't mean that you can't be at my beck and call? Or you didn't mean that you want me to get a boyfriend?"
What? "No, I…" He didn't know what to say. "I didn't mean…" She turned to look at him, arching her brows, waiting for an answer. "I just didn't mean to snap at you like that, or bring up the whole, you know, you-being-single-because-Dawson-dumped-you thing. Okay? I'm sorry."
Joey nodded her head slowly and pursed her lips. "But you do think I should get a boyfriend."
His guts tied into knots, and he felt a flush creeping up his neck and into his face. Again, he suddenly felt angry but didn't exactly understand why. "I don't care what you do, Potter. Your love life is none of my business." He thought he saw a glimpse of disappointment in her face, but then her expression became smug.
"You're right, Pacey. It isn't." With a mean look, she flipped her hair and turned back around, once again painting primer on the wall.
His brows furrowed. What the hell was that about? He felt his jaw tighten in annoyance and struggled to suppress it. Why did she get under his skin so damn much? It was unnerving how she could aggravate him like no one else. An overwhelming urge to run from the room welled up inside him. He dropped his roller onto a pan. "Anyway, I gotta get going. My, uh, plans and all. I'm sure you can finish up here."
She turned, her eyes widening. "You're leaving?"
"Yeah. Well, I have to go home and feed the dog. Then I have to shower and get this paint off me before I… you know, gotta be somewhere."
"Fine." She scowled. "Bye, Pacey." She again put her back to him.
He sighed and left the room, the guilt still churning.
November 25. Thanksgiving. He rode his bike home from Mrs. Ryan's house. Upon his arrival, he saw that Gretchen's car was nowhere to be seen. She'd decided not to come home for the holiday after all. When he'd talked to her over the weekend, she'd been undecided; there was a new guy she was dating and she might go with him to his family's house in Maine. A wave of disappointment washed over him.
He walked up onto the porch and stared at the front door. Inside were his father, Doug, and his two brothers-in-law, and no doubt all had consumed more beer than was good for them. His guts twisted into knots of fear as his chest tightened with anxiety. He turned around and bolted down the steps, hopping back onto his bike, and rode back to Jen's house. Why spend the holiday with family who hated him when he could spend it with friends?
About an hour after he arrived back at Mrs. Ryan's, Andie and Jack left, and then Jen said goodnight and joined her grandmother inside the house. He was left with his two oldest friends. They sat around the fire pit watching the flames leap and dance in the darkness. Stars lit up the sky. Dawson and Joey sat across the fire from him, talking and smiling with each other. Neither of them had spoken a word to him, or even looked at him, for several minutes. He may as well have been absent. It felt like he had been forgotten, and the loneliness he now felt was suffocating.
How long before Dawson and Joey fell back into the usual song-and-dance routine that was their squirm-inducing, doomed-to-fail romance? Watching them together made him tense, made him feel things he didn't want to feel. He didn't know where the anger came from, but it swelled inside him. He had to get out of there.
"Well, goodnight." He stood up.
"Bye, Pacey," Dawson said. "I'm glad you decided to hang out here instead of at home."
He nodded. "Yeah. Me, too. Gretchen decided not to come home. She's got some new guy. Anyway, without her around, the holiday would've been unbearable. Safer for me to be here and far away from the drunken Witter men."
His best friend chuckled. "It can't be that bad, Pacey."
"You're right, Dawson," he said dryly. "I exaggerate. You know me." He glanced at Joey. "See ya, Potter."
He then walked away from the fire pit, heading up the driveway to collect his bike.
"Pacey!"
Heaving a sigh, he turned around. "What?"
She quickly moved forward to catch up with him. "You're still coming over tomorrow to help with the B&B, right?"
"Yeah. I told you on Monday I would."
Joey pursed her lips. "Yeah, but… I haven't really talked to you that much since. And you haven't really said much to me all day."
His brows furrowed. "You haven't said much to me all day."
"Are you all right?" she asked, giving him a concerned look. Realization then dawned on her face, and she frowned in sympathy. "It couldn't have been easy to have Andie around. I didn't even think… I'm sorry if that was difficult."
"It wasn't a walk in the park, but it wasn't that bad," he replied. "Could've been worse. Anyway, see you tomorrow." He turned around and walked away from her.
November 29. The first Monday back to school following the holiday was a drag. After leaving Study Hall, the fourth period bell rang as he walked into Chemistry. He took his usual seat in the back-row right behind Joey. Two rows over, Jen leaned over her desk and turned to give him a nod hello. He smiled and gave her a nod in return.
It was thirty minutes into class, and just past eleven o'clock, when he stopped listening to whatever Mrs. J was saying and dazed. He found himself staring at Joey. She tucked a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. He gazed at the back of her head, marveling at the half-ponytail she'd done today and the way her dark brown hair brushed against the soft skin of her neck. There was a time long ago when his fascination would've prompted him to reach forward and pull the ponytail to get a reaction out of her. Now he wanted to reach out and touch her skin. Wanted to touch her everywhere so he could find out just how soft she'd be. He bet she tasted like paradise.
His groin suddenly tightened in response to his lazy thoughts. He shifted in his seat and tried to gain some control. He glanced over at Jen. She was bent over her desk taking notes. Quickly tearing a piece of scrap paper from his notebook, he wrote "NOW" and folded it up. He then reached over and tapped it on Jim Connelly's desk, who tore himself away from his textbook to look at him. He handed Jim the paper and nodded at Jen. Jim passed it along. He watched Jen turn and take the note. She opened it and laughed.
He rolled his eyes. She leaned over and looked at him, clearly amused. Come on! he silently mouthed, brows furrowed in frustration. She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders, mouthing back, Where?
He sighed. He didn't know. The back of Joey's head taunted him. Defeated, he laid his head on the desk. Then there was a tap on his shoulder. He sat back up to see Jim passing him a note. He quickly grabbed it and flipped it open.
"Dawson's house. Lunch bell."
He looked up at the clock. The lunch bell would go off at 11:22. Thank you, Jesus. He turned to Jen and nodded enthusiastically.
Later, he walked back into school in the middle of fifth period feeling almost as frustrated as when he left. Jen had said they should give it another week to keep trying, but it was starting to seem hopeless. He didn't get it. She was attractive. He desperately wanted to have sex; the strange urges were getting more difficult to control. And yet, nothing was happening.
As he passed by the Main Office, a voice called out. "Oh, Mr. Witter."
Great. He inwardly groaned and turned around. "Hi, Mr. Milo."
The guidance counselor walked out of the office and approached him. "I've been looking for you. I want you to go see Mr. Kapinos."
His stomach lurched. "The school psychologist?"
"Yes, Mr. Witter. Right now."
This day officially sucked. He turned around and started heading for Mr. Kapinos' office, where he was soon informed that he was failing Math. Later, as he walked to English class with Joey, he managed to get her to agree to help him learn trigonometry. When they entered the classroom and he saw Dawson sitting at his desk, that strange guilt settled in his stomach. But what had he done? So, he made out with Jen on his friend's bed. But nothing happened. There was nothing to feel guilty about. Yet the guilt wouldn't go away.
After his seventh period Spanish class ended, he walked out of school, where he found Joey waiting for him by his mom's wagon. "You said you'd do anything," she said in greeting.
"Yeah. Anything."
"Okay," she smiled, looking pleased with herself. "So, let's go."
He eyed her suspiciously as he walked over to the driver's side door. Once they left the parking lot, she asked him to make a quick pitstop at her house. When she walked back out her front door, he noticed she had changed out of her khakis and into a skirt. She then directed him to drive downtown and to park on Main Street not far from the video store. Once they got out of the car, he followed her until they were standing in front of Starlight Dance Studio.
Joey threw her hands up at the sign. "Ta-daa!"
"Is this a joke?"
"Nope."
He furrowed his brows. "So, let me get this straight. You are going to help me learn trig, and in exchange, you want me to dance with you?"
She blushed and fought a grin. "Yes. Ballroom dancing, to be exact."
His mouth fell open. "Ballroom dancing? Wait a minute… There aren't frilly costumes involved, are there?"
"I don't know. I guess we'll find out."
He started shaking his head and waving his hands at her. "No, no, no. I don't think so, Potter. Over my dead body am I doing that."
Joey put her hands on her hips and arched her brows. "You said you'd do anything, Pacey. I know you're a man of your word. And as much as the thought of dancing with you makes me gag, this is important to me."
Pouting, he groaned. She rolled her eyes and then grabbed his hand. Her palm was warm and soft against his. "Come on," she said, and pulled him along with her as she stepped in through the studio doors. Music filled his ears once he was inside and several couples were waltzing around the dance floor. A blonde woman approached them with cropped short hair, wearing a black leotard and a flowery skirt.
"Hi, I'm Penny Pretty. Welcome to my studio."
"Is that your real name?" he blurted. Joey elbowed him. "Ow!"
The woman fixed them with a patient smile. "No. It's my professional name. So, what brings two youngsters like yourselves to the Starlight?"
"Your guess is as good as mine," he deadpanned.
Joey huffed. "We're interested in taking a course."
Nodding, Penny gestured for them to walk over to the desk. "Beginner's course, or have you two danced before?"
He laughed. Joey smiled tightly. "Beginners, please," she replied.
After they'd signed up and hung their coats in the coatroom, the instructor led them out to the floor as a Henry Mancini song played in the background. She maneuvered them to stand in front of each other. Miss Penny placed Joey's hand on his shoulder and his hand on her waist. "Okay. Good. Now move closer. Your rib cages need to touch."
He and Joey stared at each other like deer caught in the headlights.
"Have fun, you two," the instructor said before walking off to observe the other couples.
His stomach tightening, he started to move closer, his gaze dropping to her chest, but Joey instantly backed away, removing her hand from his shoulder. "Your rib cage isn't coming anywhere near my rib cage."
He scowled. "Like I even want it to. Get over yourself, Potter."
Penny Pretty then clapped her hands and got the room's attention. The music stopped. "Okay, everyone. From the top." Another song began to play. He inwardly groaned. It was going to be a long week.
December. Friday night. The strange, confusing guilt he'd been experiencing for the past several weeks was now starting to become clear. It had made him want to keep this whole dance lesson thing with Joey a secret. It had made him avoid Dawson all week. It made his gut twist into knots when Dawson actually showed up at the dance studio, catching him and Joey there together.
The guilty feeling quickly transitioned to anger. The accusatory and threatening look on Dawson's face made him angry; it was a look he'd seen countless times before. Sophomore year when Dawson had showed up at the video store to tell him not to kiss Joey and he'd told him he was too late. When they'd played Spin the Bottle at Dawson's fourteenth birthday party. When they'd gone to the roller skating rink for Joey's twelfth birthday. In second grade when he'd picked purple wildflowers on the edge of the school playground during recess and gave them to her. And standing there in the dance studio, he found himself suddenly lashing out against the claim his best friend still made on her, despite saying he was over her and wanted to move on with his life. Dawson just didn't want Joey to move on and have her own life separate from his. He didn't want her, but he didn't want anyone else to have her, and especially not Pacey Witter. The story of his goddamned life.
But the most powerful guilt of all was when he saw the look on Joey's face when she caught him in the coatroom with Jen, when she got angry and stormed out. The guilt flooded him—as if he'd been unfaithful, as if the whole thing with Jen had somehow been a betrayal. A betrayal of what? He'd done nothing wrong. Nothing had happened. They'd done nothing. He didn't understand why he felt that way, which left him defensive and angry.
Yet as he sat at the table inside the studio, feeling lonely and miserable while watching the other couples waltz around the dance floor, Jen's words went around and around his head. The truth that there was nothing between them, not even sexual attraction. He'd been trying to find a reason why it wasn't working for weeks. For all intents and purposes, it shouldn't have been a problem. They tried to force it, but it just wasn't there—no spark, no desire, no tension. He hadn't understood, but he thought he might be starting to.
"See the hostility, the way they're weary with each other, not to mention the constant bickering and name-calling. Now, these two clearly are in the early stages of some screwball mating ritual."
"There's enough sexual tension here to power a KISS reunion tour."
"If people dance that badly, then they're usually hot for each other. The dancing doesn't lie."
His and Joey's denial of it had been borderline defensive. Maybe they had protested Penny Pretty's analysis a little too strongly, but the dance instructor obviously saw something there. Jen had seen it, and Dawson sure had been suspicious of it. The guilt twisted in his gut.
Then there was what Jen had said about how he'd overreacted to Dawson's accusation and how Joey had overreacted to seeing him and Jen together, and its implications. Sure, he could admit that getting in Dawson's face about a simple misunderstanding could come across as a little overboard when Jen didn't know the history. But the idea that Joey getting upset actually meant anything other than her usual moral high horse crusade against his choices and opinions regarding sex… Was that really an overreaction or her typical judgmental self? He wondered.
Why should Joey care who he sleeps with and for what reason? Why had the whole thing with Ms. Jacobs upset her as much as it had? Why did any and all commentary or innuendo or opinion or joke of a sexual nature out of his mouth rile her up the way it did? The way it always had basically since they'd hit puberty? Why did sexual comments always make him a "pervert" or a "pig" but sometimes elicit next to no reaction when coming from other people, even Dawson? Why did she get so bent out of shape and storm out of the library that one day when Abby Morgan was grilling Andie about his sexual prowess? Why should any of it bother her so much? He was so used to Joey reacting this way whenever he and sex was the topic at hand, that he had never stopped to think whether this reaction was excessive. He had thought it was just her aggravating personality, but now he wondered.
And then there she was, walking back into the ballroom carrying her coat. He was surprised to see her. He'd expected her to give him the cold shoulder for at least a week, but she was actually apologizing for "overreacting." That gave him pause. When he told her that he and Jen never actually slept together, not even close, Joey seemed relieved. When he said the window had closed and his arrangement with Jen had come to an end, he could see she was pleased, even though she wouldn't meet his gaze and tried her best to hide it. And even though she had only come back to get her coat, she'd ended up sitting at the table with him to sincerely apologize and clear the air; it was not typical Joey Potter behavior. A hopeful feeling rose in his chest.
"Come on," she said, again taking him by the hand and then pulling him up.
When they were stopped by Penny Pretty, he found himself feeling disappointed there was no actual scholarship for Joey to win. Surprising himself, he realized he gladly would've kept dancing with her. Joey then grabbed his hand again and pulled him out of the dance studio. They were soon sitting in the front seat of his mom's wagon. He put the car into gear, pulled out onto Main Street, and started driving towards the Potter's house.
The ride was quiet; the radio was on but the volume was turned low. The events of the evening, and the past several weeks, swirled inside his head. Joey soon broke the quiet. "I'm curious, Pacey. Why did you even ask me for my advice about your not-so-hypothetical situation when you must've known how I'd feel about it?"
"Jen pretty much asked me the same thing," he said. "I didn't have a real answer… Just that you were there, we were studying, and I just asked."
She nodded, pursing her lips. "So, it was nothing more than you and me being in the same place at the same time and you just blurted it out?"
He glanced over at her. "Well, I mean, yeah, I admit it's strange I would even feel the need to mention it to you. Why go to you, of all people, for advice about sex? It's almost laughable. Inexperienced, judgmental Joey Potter, whom I knew wouldn't have understood or ever approved."
"I'm going to ignore the judgmental remark," she said dryly. "So… why me, Pacey?"
The answer suddenly hit him, clear as anything, and he knew it was true. "Because…" He sighed. "Because I knew you'd talk me out of it if I was making the wrong decision."
Joey's eyes widened, her expression one of pleasant surprise. Then she turned her face towards the window to hide her smile and chewed on her lip. After a moment, she turned back to look at him. "So… what you're saying is that my opinion matters to you."
He threw her a look. "I wouldn't go that far, Potter. So, you can wipe that cute smirk off your face."
"Mm-hmm." She stuck her tongue in her cheek and arched her brows, not buying his denial.
He heaved a sigh. They drove on in silence. He looked over at Joey. She was again looking out the window. He kept glancing over, noticing how her profile would momentarily alight with the passing of street lamps, and then once again become cloaked in darkness. He felt like there was so much he wanted to talk to her about, or ask her, but didn't know how, or even what he'd say. He had an inexplicable feeling that a door was opening, an opportunity was being given him, that something was changing between them—for the better.
They were soon pulling into her driveway and he threw the car into park when they were in front of the house. "Thanks for doing the dance lessons with me, Pace. I'm sorry if it was a drag."
He smiled. "It honestly wasn't as bad as I may have made it out to be. I had a good time, even though my toes will be bruised for weeks," he teased. "I'm just sorry the whole scholarship thing fell through."
She sighed. "Yeah. Me, too." Glancing at him, she chewed on her lip. "Look, Pacey, about that stuff Miss Penny was saying about us…"
He let out a nervous laugh. "She doesn't even know us, Jo. So, don't worry about it."
She rubbed her fingertips across her brow. "Yeah. I know." She smiled weakly. "For someone who knows so much about dancing, she was completely wrong about everything else."
He gave her the side-eye. "Yeah."
"And I'm sorry about Dawson," she said. "It wasn't fair to you—giving you the third degree like that—and over something so ridiculous. I mean, the idea that you and I would…" She let out a breathy, nervous laugh. "It's absurd."
He frowned and turned to her, but she avoided his gaze. "Yeah. Absurd."
A heavy, awkward silence filled the space between them.
Joey then looked over at him, grinning. "When you and Dawson were arguing, did I hear the words 'freaking goddess' come out of your mouth while you were emphatically pointing in my direction?"
His heart lurched. "You need to get your hearing aid batteries checked, Potter."
"It must've been an auditory hallucination, then," she snarked.
Suddenly nervous, he wanted to get going. "Anyway… Goodnight, Joey. I'll probably be over sometime this weekend to help you and Bessie finish painting. The Potter B&B officially opens in two weeks. I'm excited."
Guilt etched across her features. "I won't be here this weekend, Pacey."
He furrowed his brows. "Where are you going?"
She chewed on her lip. "Boston. I have a college campus tour."
"Oh."
"I signed up weeks ago," she explained. "I had wanted to tell you, but you were having a rough time and I thought it would be throwing salt in the wound."
He pursed his lips, unsure what she meant.
Joey shrugged. "Well, I'm going with Andie."
"Ahh."
"Jack's coming along, too, just to hang out in the city, I guess. And…"
He looked over at her. She was staring down at her lap, playing with her fingers like she did when she was nervous or uncomfortable. "And?"
She sighed. "Dawson's coming, too. He signed up for some student film festival thing. It's in Boston and he's going to show Witch Island. The four of us are taking the bus up there together. We leave tomorrow morning and we'll be back on Sunday."
"You're staying overnight?" His stomach knotted. Dawson and Joey, in the city together, possibly staying in a hotel… The thought of them together made his jaw clench, a cold anger starting to well up inside him.
"Yeah. The college has paired me up with a freshman who's going to be my guide and show me around. I'll be staying in her dorm room to get a glimpse into the college experience. I think Andie's got something similar going on, and I think Dawson and Jack will be sharing a room together, somewhere."
He felt some relief knowing she wouldn't be in too close proximity to Dawson. Nodding, he gave her a weak smile. He wondered if she was over Dawson yet. He found himself hoping she was. She smiled and laughed a lot more now, more than he'd ever seen her in the last few years, she wasn't nearly as uptight as she used to be, and she often looked at him with a warm and soft gaze—all good signs.
She eyed him. He thought he saw pity in her face. So, this is what the future had in store for him. All his friends would go off to Boston or some other place and he'd be left behind. May as well get used to it now. Whatever hopeful feeling had risen in his chest earlier was starting to deflate.
Joey grabbed his hand. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it sooner, Pacey. I feel bad. You should've been invited, but I guess because of Andie…"
He swallowed. It was a light, cool pressure against his fingers, but it made him immediately warm. She'd been doing that a lot lately, he suddenly realized. He liked it when she held his hand. Her hand felt like silk in his. As he looked into her eyes, affection for her tugged at his heart. He quickly shoved his feelings aside. Whatever sparked inside him when she touched his hand—it would do him no good to dwell on it.
"It's okay, Jo. I hope you have a good time."
"Thanks, Pacey. I'll see you on Monday." She smiled and let go of his hand, before opening the car door and stepping out.
His gaze followed her as she closed the door and started walking around the front of the car. And he knew—just like when he felt relief earlier that night when he and Jen had parted ways—that if he'd gone through with their casual sex arrangement, he would've regretted it. But why exactly? He wanted to have sex. The urge was there, and it was driving him crazy. As he watched Joey walk up onto the porch, open her front door, and then turn back to smile at him and wave goodnight, he knew the answer. He wanted to have sex, just not with Jen. The realization hit him like a fist to the gut, a realization so wonderful and terrible that his breath froze in his lungs, and his heart swelled at once with joy and anguish. He wanted Joey Potter.