1999
December 31. On Friday night, Pacey headed out with his friends to the New Year's Eve party at the Seacrest Beach House, a small yet stylish event venue on the beach in the next town over, known for turning a blind eye to underage drinking if paid handsomely. The Capeside High upperclassmen's student governments pooled their funds together for the party; only juniors and seniors were permitted to attend. It was around eight o'clock when they arrived at the party, and the parking lot was already jam-packed.
"Excellent," Jen remarked as they approached the main doors. Two bouncers greeted them, Capeside High football players, who high-fived Jack as he went past. "This party is gonna be a banger, and no freshmen in sight, which is kind of a relief."
"I'm just sorry Andie couldn't be here," Dawson said as they walked inside.
"So, am I," Jack replied. "I'm glad I haven't gotten that flu that's going around. Andie's really bummed she couldn't make it."
Pacey glanced over at Joey, who was grinning slyly to herself. "What are you so happy about, Potter?"
Her eyes flew to his and she looked embarrassed, as if he'd caught her out. "I don't know what you mean, Pacey."
His eyes glinted at her suspiciously and she kept her face turned away from him. The large ballroom was decorated with twinkling Christmas lights. There was a square dance floor in the middle of the room, and some tables on the carpeted floor around it. Just beyond the main entrance, the junior and senior student body presidents handed them each a flyer.
CAPESIDE HIGH'S Y2K WORLD'S END PARTY RULES
FOR GOOD LUCK IN THE NEW MILLENIUM
1) NO DRINKING ON THE DANCE FLOOR – CLEANING UP GLASS IS A BITCH
2) NO PUKING ON THE DANCE FLOOR – ENOUGH SAID
3) NO SEX ON THE DANCE FLOOR – THAT'S WHAT YOUR CAR IS FOR
4) NO FIGHTING ON THE DANCE FLOOR – OPT FOR PISTOLS AT DAWN INSTEAD
5) DON'T BE AN ASSHOLE – THAT MEANS NO COCKBLOCKING AND NO DRAMA
6) RESPECT THE VENUE – DON'T BREAK SHIT
7) NO DRUGS ALLOWED – IF YOU WANT TO GET HIGH, GO SOMEWHERE ELSE
8) LOOK OUT FOR EACH OTHER'S SAFETY AND WELL-BEING
9) NO DRINKING AND DRIVING – YOU WILL BE HELD DOWN BY A FOOTBALL PLAYER IF YOU ATTEMPT SOMETHING SO STUPID
10) WHEN THE CLOCK STRIKES MIDNIGHT, KISS EVERYONE – THAT MEANS ON THE MOUTH, YOU PRUDES
"Ugh. On the mouth?" Joey looked up with a disgusted expression. "That's how you get mono."
He laughed. "Party pooper."
The party was in full swing. There were people everywhere; he guessed around 150, more or less, were in attendance. Some of the girls had dressed up like it was prom; others were more casual. Many were singing and dancing along to the music; others mingled around, drinking and talking. A senior approached them. "Hey, you guys want something to drink? We've got beer, champagne, Jell-O shots, spiked punch…"
"I'm not drinking, Scott," he replied. "You got any soda?"
"You're not?" Joey arched her brows in surprise.
He gave her a look. "No, I'm not. Dawson isn't either, since he's driving. Why are you so surprised?"
"Well, I didn't expect Dawson to drink, whether he's driving or not. But you being responsible? I'm a little surprised, yeah."
He shook his head. "You know that Mr. Broderick made us all sign a contract that we won't drink or do drugs or participate in any other risky behavior while doing the play."
She pursed her lips, impressed. "And you're sticking to the contract?"
"I know this may come as a shock to you, Joey, but I am a trustworthy person."
"I never said you weren't, Pacey. I guess I just never thought you'd honor an agreement, you know, for a school thing."
"Well, it's only for a few more weeks. There will be plenty of other parties when the play is over and I fully intend on living it up, but until then..."
The senior gave him a look. "Unless the world ends tonight. This may be your last chance to say and do everything you want to before it's all over, Witter."
He blinked. "I'll take my chances, Scott. But thanks for lookin' out, dude." The senior shook his hand and then walked off. He turned to Joey. "So, won't your college geek get upset that you're not home for his nightly phone call? Who is he going to read poems to if you're not available?"
She glowered at him. "I had invited him to the party, actually, but he already had plans with friends."
"He'd rather hang out with his friends than you?" His brows furrowed. "I thought you said he was intelligent, Potter."
Joey rolled her eyes and turned away from him.
"You better stay away from me at midnight," he called out after her. "I don't wanna get mono!"
She flipped him off as she walked away, and he laughed before he turned to search for something to drink. He then kept his distance from Joey but also tried to keep an eye on her. He watched her mingle with some other students with a smile on her face, but he knew it wasn't one of her real smiles, more like a fake yet polite keep-your-distance smile. He thought she was probably wondering what the hell she was even doing at this party. Then he saw his best friend circle into her orbit and remain at her side.
For a man who was desperately trying to control his emotions, the anger suddenly scalding his chest as he watched Joey smile and laugh with Dawson was extremely unwelcome. The DJ then started playing some slow songs, and he noticed she looked a bit wistful as she watched some of the couples dancing. She glanced his way and their eyes met and held for a long moment. She couldn't possibly want him to dance with her. Right? Butterflies filled his stomach. With superhuman effort he forced himself to concentrate on his conversation with Jack and a few of his teammates, but his gaze was soon drawn to the dance floor where Joey was now dancing with Dawson. Great.
He frowned as he watched Dawson's hand on Joey's waist, leading her around the dance floor. She wasn't uptight about it, and she wasn't stepping on his toes. Their ribcages were touching. She seemed totally at ease and looked like she was enjoying herself. Under normal circumstances he liked Dawson, who was his best and oldest friend in the world, but right now he was seriously tempted to connect his fist with Dawson's face. The circumstances were anything but normal, he sadly admitted to himself.
The song ended and he watched Joey walk away from their friend. He felt relieved nothing more had apparently happened between them on the dance floor. He turned and immediately bumped into Jen Lindley. "Oh, hey."
"Do you really think that's a good idea?" she asked, nodding in Joey's general direction. "Dating your best friend's ex-girlfriend, who he's probably still hung up on even though he denies it?"
"We're not dating," he said, his stomach twisting into knots. "In case you haven't noticed, she's way over there and I'm over here. We're not together. We've haven't even spoken to each other since we first arrived."
"I've noticed you've been watching her most of the night," Jen replied.
He frowned at her. "What the hell are you? A stalker?"
Jen smirked. "No, I'm just observant. Much more so than the rest of our friends. If Dawson noticed the things I notice, well… I think he'd be really hurt."
"And Dawson's feelings are more important than mine, right?" he retorted.
"I didn't say that, Pacey."
"No, but you implied it." He walked away from her.
At just past ten o'clock, he realized he hadn't seen Joey in a while. He spotted Dawson chatting up Nikki, the principal's daughter; Jen was with Jack and some of the cheerleaders, but he had no idea where Joey was. He walked around the large room, winding his way through groups of his classmates, his eyes scanning the party for his friend. It wasn't long before he spotted her with Nick Delaney, one of the blond-haired, blue-eyed tools on the basketball team, who was smirking and whispering in her ear. She was giggling and flipping her hair, and kept touching Nick on the arm. What?
"Joey?"
She turned to face him and said, "Yes?" It came out slurred.
"Are you drunk, Potter?"
"What? Pacey! Never. Maybe a little bit tipsy. I've just had a little champagne, or... a lot."
"Josephine and I were just going to head outside," Nick spoke up. "I've got a great mixtape in my car I want her listen to. Way better than the garbage music they're playing at this party."
"Yeah, Pacey. I was just gonna go out to his car and listen to some music."
He blinked. "Like hell you are."
She glared at him. "If I want to go out to some guy's car, I can. There's nothing you can do about it. Didn't you tell me that I should get a boyfriend, Pacey? Well, how about Nick here?"
"Um… what?" Nick stared.
"You really are drunk, aren't ya? What about your poetry geek you like so much?"
"You said he'd rather hang out with his friends than with me. I mean, look at this!" She waved her hand over her body, up her tight purple sweater and down her figure-hugging jeans. "Who in their right mind would pass this up?"
Nick tilted his head, eyeing her up and down. "The girl has a point."
He pursed his lips into a thin angry line. "Get the hell out of here, Delaney. She isn't going anywhere with you. Go try and find a girl who's sober, if you can actually find one who would like you without the necessity of impaired judgment."
"Rule number five, Witter. No cockblocking."
"Get lost." He then grasped Joey by the arm and walked her away. She smirked up at him and said, her words slurred, "Well, since you don't approve of Nick and you obviously don't like the poetry geek, as you keep calling him, then who do you think should be my boyfriend, Pacey? You got any suggestions?"
"Wow, Potter. You're really drunk."
"Is that a no?"
"It's a no."
"Why not?"
He heaved a sigh, rolling his eyes and clenching his jaw in annoyance. "Joey, how come whenever you go to a party, you get wasted, are nearly assaulted by some creep, and I have to rescue you? Do you recall sophomore year? On the beach?"
"I don't really remember."
"Well, that's a shocker," he snarked as he still held onto her and maneuvered through the partygoers.
"Wait, didn't you punch someone to defend my honor? I remember your hand being bruised. That was really heroic of you, Pace."
"Yeah, and look how well that turned out," he grumbled, the bitter memory of her calling Dawson her hero and kissing him coming forward in his mind.
"Are you going to kiss anyone at midnight, Pacey?"
A flush crept up his neck and into his face. He felt like his blood was boiling. "No. …I don't know."
"Why not? What if the world is really ending?"
"I told you, Potter. I don't want to get mono."
She scoffed. "I was just joking about the mono, Pacey. Well, not really, because that is how you get mono, but I don't think anyone in our school has gotten mono this year. So, I think we're safe."
He kept walking, pulling her along. "Eh, I don't wanna risk it."
"What if no one kisses me?" she whined. "I'll have bad luck for the next hundred years, which is fitting, actually."
"I'm sure someone here will," he said. "Party rule number 10."
He soon reached Jack and Jen on the other side of the large room. "Keep her with you guys, okay? She's drunk. Make sure she doesn't drink anymore booze."
Jack and Jen stared in wide-eyed amusement. "Sure," they said in unison, laughing.
"Don't leave me here, Pacey!" a very intoxicated Joey shouted out as he walked away, her words still slurring from the alcohol. He didn't turn around. He then went outside to get some fresh air and cool down. Why did she affect him like this? He couldn't even understand exactly why he was angry. Why should it matter if she was drunk? She was obviously way less uptight when she was. Was it the dance with Dawson? Flirting with that jerk, Nick Delaney? The way she'd make thoughtless comments that made his feelings for her harder to ignore? Was he angry at her or at himself? He didn't know.
He avoided Joey for the rest of the night, and forced himself to not even look for her. So, what if she got drunk and flirted with every jerk in here? He wasn't her keeper. She could take care of herself. If he wanted to stop caring, if he wanted to control his emotions, then he'd actually have to make an effort to try to not care. It was soon nearing midnight. Everyone had crowded on and around the dance floor. The lights dimmed and the countdown soon began.
"10…9…8…7…"
He noticed some couples holding onto one another, smiling at each other excitedly. Other kids were standing around and giggling nervously. He only felt depressed.
"6…5…4…3…2…1"
A loud cheer went up, sparklers were lit, and music played as the clock struck midnight, and everyone around him started hugging and kissing. Soon it was a frenzy. Kimberly Sokernyk, a senior on the field hockey team, threw her arms around him and kissed him, before he turned and then there was Meghan Arliss, Jim Connelly's girlfriend, and then she kissed him, too. Around and around he went, kissing whatever girl was in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dawson and Joey kiss, and he forced himself to look away. He didn't care, he told himself. He wasn't going to care.
He turned around and then there was Jen. She looked up at him and laughed. He shrugged good-humoredly and then grabbed her, dipping her dramatically in his arms as she threw hers around his neck, and he kissed her. "Happy New Year, Jen."
"Happy New Year, Pacey." She smiled, and then frowned. "I'm gonna go and kiss Jack again. No one's kissing him. Well, except me and Joey, but that's it. Everyone else is keeping a wide berth."
He nodded and then turned. Suddenly there was another senior girl coming forward and kissing him. It continued this way for some minutes and then he bumped into Jack. "Oh, hey, Pacey. Happy New Year."
Grinning, he placed his hands on his friend's face and planted a kiss on his mouth. "Happy New Year, Jack."
"Pacey!" He'd gone red in the face, embarrassed. "Oh, my God."
"Don't say I never did nothing for you, McPhee."
He laughed and turned away, moving on to the next girl coming at him. As Nancy Wheeler left his arms, he turned and found himself face to face with Joey. His stomach bottomed out. She was like a deer caught in the headlights.
He stood as if frozen and blinked, staring. Unable to move, he quivered at the hope, the desire, the fear of what might happen next. Her lips parted and she gazed up at him with her doe eyes. She looked beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful. His heart wrenched. Everyone was kissing around them, sparklers were twirling in the air, the music filled his ears. They leaned forward hesitantly and then kissed each other on the cheek, the lightest, briefest of touches, and then quickly turned away from each other.
It was almost one o'clock when they were climbing back into Dawson's SUV. "I should sit Joey in the far back," he told his friend. "In case she pukes or something. And we should probably drop her off home first."
"Good idea," Dawson replied, chuckling.
While Jen got in the front passenger seat, he opened the back door and helped Joey climb into the third row, before sitting down beside her. Jack then jumped into the back seat just in front of them and closed the door. It was a 20-minute drive to Capeside. While Dawson, Jen, and Jack talked and laughed together, he and Joey were quiet. After a few minutes, she leaned against his arm. "So, how many girls did you kiss tonight?" she whispered.
He glanced at her. "Are you still drunk?"
"A little bit, yeah."
Sighing, he shrugged. "I kissed my fair share. Fingers crossed I don't get mono." He grinned. "And you? Did you get the midnight kiss of your dreams?" He shoved down the image of her and Dawson kissing that suddenly appeared in his mind.
Joey frowned. "Of my dreams? No, but I kissed my fair share as well. So, hopefully no bad luck will be coming my way, which will come in handy since the B&B is opening in two weeks."
They were again quiet for some time. He stared out the window, gazing at nothing. He still felt depressed. Some nights he wondered if he'd ever feel happy again. This was one of those nights.
"Thanks for taking care of me, Pacey," she then said quietly, breaking the silence in the back seat.
"Huh?"
"When I was sick," she answered. "It really meant a lot to me, and I can't remember if I thanked you."
He sighed. "You're welcome, Potter."
They spent the rest of the drive silent. When they arrived at Joey's house, he got her out of the far back seat. As they walked around the car, Dawson's window came down. "Do you need any help getting her inside?" his friend asked.
"No, I've got it."
"Probably for the best," Dawson said, laughing. "The last time I deposited a drunk Joey inside her house, she kissed me. I wouldn't want a replay of that."
His jaw clenched in annoyance and he didn't reply. Dawson's car window went back up. His arm around Joey's waist, he walked her toward the porch. "Can you carry me, Pacey?"
He burst out laughing. "What? No!"
"Why not?" she whined.
"Well, our friends are sitting in the car, watching us."
She knitted her brows at him. "Why should that matter?"
His face flushed. "Well, you know, it would look weird." She huffed.
They walked up the steps and to the door. "You got your keys, Potter?" he whispered.
"They're in my pocket."
He stared at her. "So, get them out."
She blinked. "Oh, right." Pulling out her keys, she placed them in his palm. He unlocked the door quietly and they stepped inside. He then walked her to her bedroom, where she kicked off her shoes and slid beneath the covers of her bed.
"Are you really going to sleep in your jeans?" he asked her.
"Well, I'm not going to take them off with you in here," she muttered, putting her back to him.
Her words were still slurring a little. He sighed. "Why did you get drunk tonight, Jo?"
"I don't know, Pacey. I thought champagne sounded good. After I had one glass, I could feel the stress leaving my body and I wanted to chase that feeling. I wasn't worried about the B&B. I wasn't worried about money. I wasn't worried about my dad. I wasn't worried about you. I could just… be free, and it was a relief."
What? His brows furrowed. "You worry about me?"
A heavy silence hung in the air. Turning to lay on her back, she looked up at him for a long moment. "The world didn't end," she said, ignoring his question.
He gave her a weak smile, shaking his head. "No, it didn't."
"It's a new year."
"Yes, it is."
"It's a new decade, and a whole new century."
He nodded and smiled down at her.
She gazed up at him, her eyes sparkling. "Think of the possibilities, Pacey."
He swallowed. His heart raced, his palms tingled, nerves tightened in his stomach. Think of the possibilities. Fear gripped his chest. He wanted Joey with what felt like a desperate hunger. He wanted all the things he knew he shouldn't have; he knew he couldn't have. But that didn't stop the wanting, no matter how much he tried to reason with himself.
"Is something wrong?" Joey asked, her voice apprehensive.
"Everything's fine," he reassured. Everything was fine, he thought, everything except his self-control. He again told himself that his feelings for her were only physical, hormonal. He just had to learn to better control them or he might explode.
She smiled up at him, but he thought there was a tinge of sadness in her gaze. "Happy New Year, Pacey."
"Happy New Year, Joey."
He turned and walked towards her bedroom door. Opening it, he looked back at her just as his hand went to the light switch on the wall. She turned to lay on her side, clutching a teddy bear in her arms. His eyes widened as he noticed it had the red and gold ribbon tied into a bow around its neck, the one that read, "Be my sweetheart." The butterflies were back. He flipped the light switch, darkening the room, and then closed the door.
He climbed into Dawson's car next to Jack. They were soon back on the road. He remained quiet for the rest of the ride home. Dawson glanced at him from time to time in the rearview mirror. He didn't know exactly when or how it had happened—and definitely hadn't been expecting it to happen—but he wanted his best friend's self-proclaimed soulmate. Dawson had been his closest friend, and sometimes only friend, since kindergarten. How many people were lucky enough to have friends who stick around that long, who loyally stay by their side through all their screw-ups?
An ache of guilt settled in the pit of his stomach. He was determined to spend less time alone with Joey, at least until he could get his hormones in check. It wasn't worth the risk. There was no way she'd ever want him the same way, so what was even the point of all this? It was never going to go anywhere, and he knew it was only a matter of time before she and Dawson returned to their usual state of affairs. He was tormenting himself for nothing. There were plenty of reasons why she was undesirable, not least the fact she didn't want him in return, and he was trying hard to list them. Yet as his thoughts turned to the teddy bear she was now hugging to her chest as she slept and the kiss on his cheek earlier, just an inch from his lips, he couldn't stop himself from smiling.
2000
January 8. On Saturday afternoon, he showed up at the Potter's house along with a repair guy who was going to refurbish the old furnace. It needed to be fixed by the official opening next Friday, and buying a new one would be too much of an expense. He waited with Joey in the kitchen while the guy worked. "So, where's Bessie and Alexander?" he asked her.
"They're in Boston visiting Bodie for the weekend," she answered.
He nodded, and watched her while she moved about the room. She reached for a glass in the cupboard and filled it with water. Today was his seventeenth birthday, and she hadn't said a word to him about it. Dawson had called him that morning, wished him happy birthday, and apologized for not being able to get out of his video store shift tonight; Maybe they could do something tomorrow. Andie had even wished him happy birthday earlier at play rehearsal. He'd expected Joey to at least remember, but nothing so far. Maybe that was for the best, he thought. His birthdays were always a disaster waiting to happen.
She drank from her glass and then sighed. "You wanna do something later? I'm bored."
Was this some birthday ploy? He wondered. "If you're bored, why don't you hang out with Dawson?"
"Well, I already called Dawson earlier to see if he wanted to hang out and have a movie night, but he has to work."
"So, I'm your second choice, is what you're saying."
She gave him a look of annoyance. "It has nothing to do with a choice, Pacey. You and I hang out almost every day. Me and Dawson? Not so much. I'd like to get our friendship back on track, and that requires hanging out like friends are supposed to. Anyway, do you want to do something, or not?"
He sighed. "You wanna order pizza and rent a movie?"
She pulled a face. "I'm sick of pizza." Pursing her lips, she thought for a moment. "Let's go out. I really like that French bistro place."
"You probably went there on dates with Dawson, right?" He frowned. "No, thanks."
"I went once with Dawson and we sat with his dad and his film teacher. The night ended up being more about me and Jen trying to get Mitch and Gail back together than a date. It wasn't a romantic night at all, really."
He frowned again. "Does this mean I have to dress up?"
Crossing her arms, she threw him a look. "I know you own a suit, Pacey."
He wondered if she was planning something at this restaurant for his birthday. He may as well oblige and not spoil her fun. Well, not too much. "I'll wear the suit I wore to Abby Morgan's funeral."
Joey pursed her lips, not amused.
That evening, as soon as he had parked the Witter wagon and they stepped inside the French restaurant, he immediately felt uncomfortable. The restaurant was very intimate and romantic, with low lighting and plenty of tables for two. He also half-expected people to jump out and shout, "Surprise!" It didn't happen, and he wasn't sure whether he was thankful or disappointed. A hostess offered to check their coats. He shrugged his off and handed it over to the woman. When Joey removed her coat, revealing a dark green dress that clung to her in all the right places, he ran his eyes down her figure.
"Don't stare," she scolded, pursing her lips. "It's rude."
He shrugged. "You look great, that's all."
She averted her eyes from his and tucked her hair behind an ear, hiding a smile. The maître d' then showed them to a small table by the side wall and near the piano. A young waitress in a starched white button-down shirt and a black skirt with a long black apron tied around her waist arrived and offered them menus. The interior of the dining room had dark wood paneling set off by the pale light of three chandeliers, and most of the tables were filled with patrons.
As they looked over their menus, the maître d' glided over with breadsticks in a wicker basket, set it on the table, and asked, "Are you ready to order?"
He and Joey exchanged a look, shrugging. "I think we'll need a few minutes," he replied.
"Not a problem, sir. Can we get you any drinks to start with?"
"I'm good. Jo, you want something?"
She shook her head. "Water is fine."
"Very well, madam." The maître d' bowed pompously and turned from the table.
He snorted, shaking his head as the man walked away. He watched as Joey studied her menu. "You wanna tell me what we're doing here, Potter?"
She looked up, brows knitting. "We're having dinner."
"No kidding," he deadpanned. "We could've gone anywhere. Why here? Why with me?"
"I thought it would be nice," she answered vaguely.
He threw her a look of disbelief and set his menu down on the table. "Okay, let's cut the bullshit. I know you know today is my birthday. What are you planning, Jo? You needed to get me here, or temporarily get me away from somewhere else… for what?"
She frowned.
"You're forgetting that you and I planned something very similar for Dawson's disaster of a sixteenth birthday," he said. "So… what? You got a surprise party happening somewhere? Back at the B&B? At Dawson's house? Or, God forbid, my house?"
"Pacey, I asked you last month if you wanted a party for your birthday and you told me no. If I recall correctly, you were rather adamant about it."
Before he could reply, the waitress returned to their table and smiled at him. "Ready to order?"
He sighed and picked up his menu, giving it a quick glance. "Well, look at that," he remarked under his breath, before looking up and grinning. "I'll have the Crêpe Josephine with the Truffle Frites."
Joey shot him an impressed look across the table.
"Very nice, sir," the waitress replied, still smiling brightly down at him. "Excellent choices. And you, miss?"
"Um… the Salmon Niçoise."
"Okay," said the waitress, before turning back to him. "Can I get you anything to drink besides water? We have a very sexy Côte du Rhône as well as a delicious Bourgogne Pinot Noir to really whet your appetite. I think you'd be very pleased with either."
He opened his mouth to reply, but Joey cut in. "We're seventeen years old," she replied dryly.
The waitress winked at him and smirked as she collected their menus and walked away. He looked at Joey, who was staring after the waitress and scowling. "So… why are we here?" he asked again.
She turned her head to face him. "The nerve of that woman."
He snorted. "What's wrong?"
"Our waitress is blatantly flirting with you, Pacey. Haven't you noticed?"
"No, I've been looking at you."
Joey frowned. "I mean, the audacity. We're sitting here having dinner in a romantic French restaurant, and she's making eyes at you right in front of me. The woman should be a little more subtle considering you aren't at the table alone."
His brows furrowed. "But we're just friends and this isn't a date."
"Yeah, but she doesn't know that!"
"I think you're getting worked up for nothing, Potter." He then tilted his head and pursed his lips. "Although… Do you think if I slipped her my number later, she'd have sex with me? It's been a long time and a man has needs."
She glared.
He burst out laughing. "I'm just kidding, Jo." He tilted his head again, arching his brows. "Or am I?"
Joey threw a breadstick at him.
"Hey, watch it! This is a classy place." He smirked and lifted the breadstick from his lap, placing it on the table. Then he sighed. "Come on, Jo. Seriously. What are we doing here? This isn't exactly our thing."
"If you want to know," she paused, hesitating. "It wasn't supposed to be just you and me, and we weren't originally going to come here. I know you said you didn't want a party, but I had invited Dawson and his parents, Jen, her grandmother, Jack and Andie to just have a birthday dinner with us at my house. I asked Bodie to come home for the weekend and cook you a nice meal. But it was just a dinner, not a party. I had it all planned, but then they all had other stuff going on that they unfortunately couldn't get out of. So, I'm sorry that going to a nice restaurant and having dinner with yours truly is such a bummer on your birthday."
Too touched by her thoughtfulness to feel truly irritated, he smiled and took a sip of his water. "It's far from a bummer. I'm sitting at a table with a beautiful woman."
Joey blushed, averting her eyes from his.
"So… why this place? I mean, we could've gone anywhere."
"My dad would take my mom here on her birthday every year," she revealed. "She was a total Francophile. French food, French fashion, French films, French music, wine, art—she loved it all. And she loved this restaurant. We didn't have a lot of money, so she couldn't come that often, but her birthday was a special occasion. Anyway, when my dinner party plans fell through, I still wanted to do something nice for you and this was the first place I thought of."
He knew that Joey didn't often speak of her mother, and even less of her father. That she found it hard opening up at the best of times. "Well, thanks for inviting me."
She smiled. "You're welcome."
A man sitting at the piano began to play soft music and then their food arrived shortly after. They spent the next hour enjoying their meal, talking the entire time. They discussed everything from the B&B's opening, just a week away, to school, to Jen and whatever was going on with that freshman, Henry Parker, Dawson and his movie-poster-less bedroom walls, and finally Barefoot in the Park.
"Opening night is in two weeks," he said excitedly. He then gazed at her somewhat shyly. "You're gonna be there, right?"
"Of course," she replied, giving him a thousand-watt smile. "I wouldn't miss it."
His heart fluttered in his chest. Their dinner plates were then cleared away and the waitress was back. "I believe we have something very special being prepared for you in the kitchen," she said as she bent over him, putting her back to Joey as if she wasn't also sitting at the table. The waitress patted his hand lightly and then straightened up. "I hope you saved room for dessert."
He turned a wide-eyed gaze at Joey as the waitress walked away. His friend crossed her arms and scowled. He chuckled. "Relax. She just wants a good tip."
"She wants a lot more than that," Joey grumbled. He rolled his eyes.
Homemade crème brûlée soon arrived. A lit candle stood in the middle of it. "Happy Birthday Pacey" was written in chocolate on the plate next to the dessert. The waitress laid two spoons on the table beside it. His friend beamed at him. "Happy birthday," she said. "Make a wish."
He didn't know what to wish for. He wanted to be happy. He wanted Joey to be happy. He wanted her to want him the same way he wanted her, and he wanted Dawson to be cool with it. He wanted to make his father proud. He wanted to get the hell out of this town and never come back. Why did every wish of his seem impossible? Closing his eyes, he sighed, and wished that this could be the one birthday that didn't end up a catastrophe. He opened his eyes and blew out the candle.
Dipping his spoon into the dessert, he ate in silence. Being treated like he was someone important warmed his heart. He wasn't used to it.
"Did your parents do anything for your birthday?" Joey asked as she dipped her own spoon into the other end of the dessert.
He scoffed. "They detest that I managed to survive my infancy, so they're not about to celebrate the fact I'm turning 17, Jo."
She blinked those soulful brown eyes at him, and looked at him with such pity and compassion that it physically hurt. "How bad is it, really?" Her voice was just above a whisper.
"You don't want to know."
"Yes, I do."
"Why?"
"Because maybe I can help you."
"Help me? Do I have neon sign flashing over my head that says 'save me'? You don't want to hear this shit."
"That's what friends do, Pacey. They help each other."
He sighed. "There's nothing you can do, Joey. There's nothing anyone can do. I just gotta keep my head down until I turn 18 and then I'm outta here."
Pursing her lips, she dipped her spoon into the crème brûlée. "Once we're out of high school and in college, everything will be different, and hopefully better."
"I'm not getting into college," he replied.
"You don't know that, Pacey."
"Oh, but I do."
She frowned. "Okay, so if you don't get into college, then whose fault is that? You're really smart, Pacey, and I've seen what you can do when you make an effort. You just don't want to do the work."
He had no argument, and said nothing.
"Let's suppose you don't get into college," she said matter-of-factly. "That's not the end of the world. School isn't for everyone, Pacey. Some people thrive inside the box. They need rules and structure in their lives. They do well with academics. But that's not everyone. Other people thrive outside the box, breaking rules, and they create amazing things. There are plenty of people who have been very successful, in their careers and lives, who never went to college, who never even graduated high school. Just find something you love to do, and do it. You can do whatever you put your mind to, and once you figure out what that is going to be, I know you'll do it well."
The emotion shining in her eyes, her confidence in him, made him feel like he could do anything. A lump of emotion formed in his throat and he shrugged off her praise, returning his attention to the dessert. Joey then suddenly reached across the table and placed her hand over his, grasping hold of him. He felt a tingle down his spine. "The music," she said, gazing at him earnestly. "Listen."
He concentrated on the music emanating from the piano. It was classical, and familiar. "What am I hearing?"
"Debussy," she said quietly. "My mom's favorite composer." Her hand still holding his, she gazed at nothing, and he could tell her mind was elsewhere. "She loved this composition. Clair De Lune. She would play this a lot while she painted."
They sat quietly listening, and she still held onto his hand. Her touch made him feel emotions he'd almost given up hope of ever controlling, which were clearly more powerful than he was equipped to handle. The thought filled him with fear and trepidation. She obviously had no idea what she was doing to him. Yet with a smile he craved as much as her physical touch, Joey tenderly gazed across the table at him until the musical piece ended, and then she slowly pulled her hand away.
January 15. He had the growing sense that he was doomed. The harder he tried to find a reason Joey Potter was undesirable in any way, the less success he had. On Saturday, what was supposed to be the coldest night of the year, he gathered chopped wood into his arms and climbed the steps onto the porch, heading back inside the Potter's house. The living room was currently empty. Jack and Andie had gone to Mrs. Ryan's house to fetch a space heater. Dawson went with Gail back to their house to retrieve more blankets. He didn't know where the others were; probably making similar efforts around the bed and breakfast. As he crouched on the floor and began piling the chopped wood in the large basket beside the hearth, Mitch Leery's words still rang inside his head.
"That goes to the heart of who Pacey Witter is. What makes you care so much?"
All the time and effort he'd put into helping Joey and Bessie with the bed and breakfast. All the dry walling and painting and cleaning and repairing, and then roping the critic, Fred Fricke, to come out and review the place so word about their business would spread, and rounding up their friends to pose as fake guests. And all for what? Why was it all so important to him? Of course, he wanted good things for Bessie and Joey. They deserved something good in their lives after all they'd been through, but he'd attacked the B&B project like it was the number one priority in his life, even putting his work on True Love on the back burner. Mitch had made it seem like he'd gone above and beyond what anyone would expect.
"Hey," spoke a soft voice, breaking his reverie.
He turned to see Joey standing there. "Hey." His heart sunk within him at the sight of her. The look in her eyes stole his breath. There was pain and sadness there. Those beautiful brown eyes were brimming with it. He was used to letting people down—his parents, his siblings, his teachers, Mr. Milo, Andie—but knowing he'd disappointed Joey was a physical ache inside of him.
"I, um, I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry," she said.
"Sorry?" His brows furrowed. "For what?"
She hesitated, and he stood up. She played with her fingers for a moment, before crossing her arms over her chest. "For getting so angry with you earlier. For blaming you for everything that's gone wrong. It was irrational and unfair, and untrue. It's not your fault, Pacey. You've done nothing but try your best to help. I freaked out on you and Bessie, and neither of you deserved that. I was just really stressed and worried and…" She sighed. "I'm sorry."
He gave her a half smile. "It's okay, Potter."
Mitch then walked into the room as Dawson and Gail came through the front door, carrying several heavy wool blankets. Andie and Jack walked in behind them with a space heater, and Joey told them to take it up to Mr. Fricke's guestroom. Bessie and Mrs. Ryan then left the kitchen and joined them in the living room. It was going to be a cold night, but hopefully they all could make the best of it.
Hours later, as one by one they retreated to their bedrooms, he still couldn't shake the feeling that he'd let Joey down, even after Mitch Leery's pep talk and her apology. So, he was doing everything he could think of to make things right. He called Bodie on the phone and left a desperate message on his answering machine. He stayed up in the living room, adding fuel to the fire all night long, returning outside to chop more wood as needed to keep the heat going. When the Sunday morning sky began to brighten and the gray light of dawn started to seep in through the windows, he finally allowed himself to fall asleep on the couch.
Then there was a hand shaking him awake. His eyes flew open and he saw a man standing over him. He blinked his eyes into focus. "Bodie!"
He laughed, patting him on the shoulder. "Hi, Pacey."
He jumped up off the couch and hugged Bessie's boyfriend. "I'm so glad you're here. We gotta do a wicked breakfast for this Fricke dude."
"I'm with you, man."
They walked into kitchen together and went to work.
Later that day, he stood on the porch with Joey, watching Mr. Fricke back out of the driveway. "I think he's going to give Potter B&B a rave review," he told her. "Your phone will be ringing off the hook."
She turned to him with a bright smile. "You amaze me, Pacey."
His eyes went wide. "Me? What'd I do?"
"I don't know," she shrugged. "Everything? The whole Fricke thing as a way to promote the bed and breakfast. Coming up with fake guests to impress him. An ingenious idea like that never would've even entered my head. I mean, the way your mind works… The things you come up with… You're creative in a way that I could never be. I don't think there's anyone like you."
"Oh, well, I don't know about that, Jo." He felt his face redden at her compliment.
She gazed at him. "I do." Her mouth curved into a sweet smile. "You need to start believing in yourself, Pacey."
His heart warmed, and he returned her smile. "Anyway, I'm going to try and get ahold of the furnace guy today. Hopefully he'll be able to get over here sooner rather than later. As soon as Fricke writes his raving review, you'll have more guests than you know what do with, and it's gonna be a cold winter."
Later that evening, after having talked to the repair guy about the furnace, he walked inside the Potter house looking for Joey, only to find her asleep beneath a blanket on the living room couch. A fire blazed in the hearth. He stepped over to her and pulled the blanket up more. It had been a busy, stressful weekend, and she was probably exhausted. He was, too. Removing his coat, he collapsed into the chair near the fireplace and stretched out. He watched Joey as she slept, letting his mind wander to places it shouldn't be going.
He wanted to climb onto that couch with her and kiss her until she melted into him. He wanted to bury himself deep inside her until he didn't know where he ended and she began. He wanted to taste every inch of her, explore every bit of her silky skin until he found all her secret spots that made her feel good. He wanted to make her feel good. He wanted nothing more than to give her pleasure and take away her sadness, all her worries.
His heart swelled as he gazed at her on the couch. He could watch Joey sleep like that for hours. He'd done it before, when she was sick a few weeks ago. Then as he sat there, something Mrs. Ryan said the night before came forward in his mind. When they'd all gathered around the living room hearth, and she spoke to them about similar evenings she had spent with her husband.
And that was the answer to the question Mitch had posed the night before. What made him care so much? He wanted—no, needed—to make Joey happy. Everything he did was for her sake. He knew the feeling, and he was afraid of it, but it was no use denying it any longer, or trying to ignore it or control it and stop himself from feeling it. He was in love with Joey Potter, he finally admitted to himself. He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anything, loved her more than he'd ever loved anyone. I have always loved her, he thought guiltily, from the very first moment I saw her. It was a painful longing inside him, sharp as glass.
For the first time in a long time, someone special was by his side. Not just one of his friends, but a woman who had confidence in him, who pushed him to be the man he'd always wanted to be, who encouraged him to believe. Despite the risks and potential consequences, despite the importance of his friendship with Dawson and the guilt he felt, he knew what he would do if given the chance. He was sick of just existing. He wanted so badly to be needed, to be loved. To be someone's soulmate. Only hers. If there ever came a time when he had a chance with Joey, he'd take it.
He continued to gaze at her while she slept, and as the weight of exhaustion began to pull him under as well, he held on to Mrs. Ryan's words.
"You know you love someone when you can spend the entire night just sitting by the fire, watching them sleep."
He knew it was true. And for now, that was enough.