June 5. He remained on the couch in the living room long after Joey had left. Even though Pacey's mind and body ached for sleep, restless chains of thoughts wouldn't allow him to rest. Nothing felt real. It was a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. Before he knew it, morning came, and he hadn't slept. At dawn, he trudged upstairs to shower and change.

While getting dressed into his black suit, he heard the phone ring and Gretchen answer. He stopped what he was doing and strained to hear, wondering if it was Joey calling. His heart sank as he realized he didn't want to talk to her. He didn't want to talk to anyone, he told himself. After slipping on his shoes, he returned downstairs and walked into the kitchen where he poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table.

"Thanks for making coffee."

"You're welcome." Gretchen looked at him with concern. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

He shook his head. "Who called?" he asked after he drank from his cup.

"A certain ex-girlfriend of yours."

"Andie?" He looked at his sister in shock, and then glanced at his watch. It wasn't even six-thirty. "Why was she calling so early? What did she want?"

"Why do you think, Pacey? She heard you were arrested last night and she's worried. I told her you had to go to court up in Orleans this morning, and that we're hoping for the best."

Feeling somewhat disappointed that he hadn't been able to talk to Andie himself, he watched Gretchen walk over to the fridge and open the door. "Do you want me to make you some breakfast?" she asked.

"Nah. I couldn't eat right now."

"It's going be a long day. You could be stuck in that courtroom for hours. You need to eat something, Pace, okay?" She looked at the clock on the wall. "I'm gonna hit the shower and get ready. We have to leave by eight. It'll take twenty minutes to get there, and I've never been to the courthouse. Who knows what the parking is gonna be like?"

He listened as Gretchen walked up the stairs. After a few minutes, he heard the water turn on. He sat there, staring into space, feeling numb. Then the phone rang. Pacey looked up at its mount on the kitchen wall and knew instinctively that it was Joey calling. Instead of getting up to answer it, he remained rooted in his seat and let it ring.

Somehow, he didn't want to talk to her now. Memories from last night rushed forward. He'd needed her, and she left; he needed her today, but she wasn't going to be there. As he stared at the phone, he felt a twinge of resentment and disappointment begin to creep in. Inhaling a calming breath, he scolded himself inwardly. He knew school was where she had to be. He knew the importance of her final exams, and didn't want to be the cause of her own failure when his was surely enough of a burden. He frowned, disliking the guilt swirling around in his gut along with the coffee.

He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten anything; it had to have been sometime after school yesterday. Pacey had no idea what time he'd be home later—if he came home—and followed Gretchen's advice to eat something. After making himself some scrambled eggs and toast, there was a knock on the front door just as his sister rejoined him in the kitchen.

Pacey walked away from the sink to open the door. His brother was standing on the other side of it. He scowled. "Good morning, Doug. And what brings you over here? Checking to make sure I haven't skipped town?"

He heaved a patient sigh. "Funny. I'm here to take you to court."

"Oh, I didn't know I'd be getting a police escort. How nice. Will I have to wear handcuffs when you walk me in?"

"Do I look like I'm dressed in my uniform, Pacey? I'm not going with you as a deputy. I'm going as your brother."

His face softened. "Oh…"

His brother smiled sadly. "Yeah, well… I wanted to be there for ya."

"Uh, thanks, Dougie."

Once Gretchen grabbed her purse, they went out the door. Before they'd even stepped off the front porch, Pacey watched a familiar Saab convertible pull into the driveway and park next to Doug's Toyota Corolla. He almost couldn't believe it, but then he wasn't surprised at all.

"Andie, what are you doing here?" he called out as he walked off the porch.

"Pacey!" she said, her head popping up above the windshield. "Oh, I'm so glad I'm not too late!" She opened the car door and hopped out, hurrying towards him. "I want to come with you."

He shook his head. Of course, she did. "Don't you have finals to take, McPhee?"

Her brows knitted as she threw him a look, her hands going to her hips. "Pacey, I haven't set foot inside a classroom since October. I'm not taking any finals. I have more than enough credits to graduate, and my GPA is high enough to hold on to valedictorian no matter how well anyone else scores, so…" She shrugged. "Anyway, I'm going to be there with you. I'll drive there myself if I have to."

"Andie…" Part of him felt grateful for the support. A larger part of him didn't want to feel like a charity case.

"I'm going. This isn't really up for discussion."

Doug chuckled. "Well, come along, young lady. You can ride with us, if you like."

She beamed with triumph. Pacey sighed, fighting a grin, and then climbed into the back seat of his brother's car. Andie got in the back next to him while his older siblings took the front seats. They were soon heading north out of Capeside for the ten-mile drive to the town of Orleans. Doug arrived at the courthouse on Rock Harbor Road a few minutes before its doors opened at eight-thirty.

They all walked into the courthouse. Once they'd gone through security, Pacey sat on a wooden bench in a corner of a waiting room outside the Probation Department. Gretchen and Andie sat down beside him. His brother stood, arms crossed over his chest, shifting his feet. The mood was tense and quiet.

"Doug Witter," he heard someone call in a friendly voice. Pacey looked up to see a man walking towards them. He was young, clean cut, and dressed in a navy blue suit. He carried a thick leather briefcase.

"Hi, Jason," his brother greeted, holding out his hand.

"Pacey here?" the man asked after shaking hands.

They turned to look at him, and he stood up from the bench. "That's me."

The man smiled. "Good to meet you. I'm Jason Monroe and I'm your court-appointed lawyer. Arraignments start promptly at nine, and from what I hear, it's going to be a busy day in there. So, let's get down to it." He set his briefcase down on the bench and then glanced at Doug. "Have you seen Lisa anywhere down here?"

"No."

"Good. Any cops?"

"Not yet."

"Lisa..?" Pacey questioned.

"Lisa Edwards," the lawyer stated. "The prosecutor from the District Attorney's office who's been assigned to your case." He pulled out a piece of paper from the briefcase and started looking it over. "This is the police report from your arrest last night, but I'd like to hear in your own words what happened." Jason glanced again at Doug. "I'm gonna need you to take a walk somewhere, Deputy."

Doug sighed. "Lawyers," he muttered under his breath as he walked away.

Jason grinned as he looked at Pacey. "Your brother's a good guy. He does everything right. Follows all the rules. Does everything by the book. That also means if he were to overhear you incriminate yourself, well… he could be asked to repeat what he knows to his superiors, and it could legally be held against you."

"Superiors… you mean my dad?"

"Your dad, yes, and also the District Attorney."

"Doug already knows the whole story, so I guess it doesn't matter." Pacey then proceeded to tell Mr. Monroe every detail of what happened the night before with Drue and then with Deputy Callaghan.

The lawyer shook his head. "Okay, kid, I'm gonna give it to you straight. You are up against some serious potential penalties. Under Massachusetts law, you can face up to two years in jail for possession with intent to distribute, even for a first offense. This is true no matter what the drug was, whether a Class A like heroin or a Class B like cocaine or ecstasy. On top of jail time, you can also be fined heavily."

Two years in jail. Pacey felt his stomach bottom out.

"What kind of fines are we talking about?" his sister asked.

"The minimum is twenty-five hundred dollars. The maximum is twenty-five thousand."

Gretchen blanched. "Jesus."

"Okay, so, Pacey, when we go in there, and the clerk calls your name, we're gonna stand in front of the judge. Your charges will be read aloud. The judge will ask you to enter a plea. You're gonna plead Guilty and leave the sentencing up to the judge. We can have this taken care of today, so you can start to put this mess behind you. I know Judge Welsh, and he's typically very fair to defendants, especially young people who are first-time offenders on drug charges."

The lawyer paused a moment and frowned. "Of course, he's up for reelection this year, so we'll have to consider that. There can be a lot of politics involved in decision-making, unfortunately. I also know Lisa Edwards, and she typically asks for the maximum punishment."

"What?" Andie protested vehemently. "He has to plead Guilty? Why should Pacey have a felony on his record for something he didn't even do? Who hired you?"

Pacey threw her a look. "Andie…" he warned.

"Uh… no one hired me as I'm a court-appointed public defender, but it was Sheriff Witter who requested my services through the court and said there would be a Guilty plea. He thinks it's in everyone's best interests to get this taken care of as soon as possible. Unless you want to plead Not Guilty, Pacey? If you want to take this to trial, I'll try my hardest to fight for you. When you're facing a charge like this, you'll need all the help you can get, but nothing is unwinnable. I will ensure you get the best possible result from a trial—even if you're handed a Guilty verdict—if a trial is what you want. So, do you want to plead Guilty or Not Guilty?"

"Do I have time to think about it?" he replied.

Jason looked at his watch. "Well, you have between now and whenever they call your name in there."

After the check-in process at Probation, the lawyer walked him to a courtroom on the second floor, where they met up with Doug, Gretchen, and Andie outside the doors. They entered the courtroom. There were quite a few people seated in the benches. Pacey sat down between his lawyer and his brother.

"What is your ideal outcome?" Jason whispered to him. "Whether you plead Guilty or Not Guilty?"

"I would like to avoid jail at all costs," he whispered back, Joey's face swimming in front of him. "I don't care if I'm saddled with a felony on my record and get put on probation, or if I have to pay a fine. I just… I can't go to jail. I can't. But… I don't know… pleading guilty to something I didn't do…" He felt sick.

Jason Monroe stared across the courtroom where some lawyers from the District Attorney's office were huddled together. "Your dad's here."

Pacey turned in the direction of his gaze and saw his father on the other side of the courtroom. He was in uniform. There were a few other police officers around, but he didn't recognize them. John Witter turned, and their eyes met. His stomach twisted.

"I'll be back," the lawyer said.

"Where are you going?" he asked, tearing his gaze away from his father.

"To find out if I can get you a deal to avoid a jail sentence."

Ten minutes later, he was back. "They're discussing and will let me know."

Brows furrowing, Pacey wondered what had happened. "Do you think they'll really give me a deal?"

"I explained your side of the story, that you are innocent and refuse to take the fall for someone else. I told them you're going to plead Not Guilty so you can take this to trial, where we will eviscerate this Drue Valentine kid on the stand. Not to mention Brendan Callaghan for his obvious conflict of interest because of the election. You should've seen the look on Lisa Edwards' face. I certainly gave them something to think about."

Pacey grimaced. The election. As if he needed a reminder. He turned to see the prosecutor talking to his father. "My dad could lose the election now, and he'll blame me forever."

Jason laughed breathlessly. "I wouldn't worry about that. In all honesty, Brendan Callaghan doesn't have a hope in hell of winning."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because your dad's a Witter, that's what."

He stared a moment. "Okay…"

"You do know what that means, don't ya?"

Pacey gave a half-hearted shrug.

The lawyer shook his head with a smile. "Your dad has been sheriff for over twenty years. Your grandfather, Dale Witter, was the sheriff for thirty or forty years before he retired. Your great-grandfather, Charles, was sheriff before that for decades. And someday when your dad retires, I'd be willing to bet a ton of money that Doug will get voted in. The Witters are an institution on the Cape, and if there's anything people around here don't go for, it's change from the status quo. They're not gonna vote for some young, wet-behind-the ears hot shot, and especially not against John Witter. It's just not gonna happen."

They sat there watching the court proceedings, other defendants being arraigned. Every so often, Pacey turned in his seat to glance behind him at the doors that led out to the hall. Despite knowing she was in school taking her exams, and knowing that was where she belonged, he kept hoping Joey would show up. Stupid, but he kept looking anyway, and every time she wasn't there, he filled with disappointment.

A short while later, an older woman in a pantsuit that Pacey had seen working alongside the prosecutor walked over to their row and asked to speak with Mr. Monroe. He watched his lawyer walk away with her. After a few minutes, Jason returned, grinning from ear to ear.

"I think I got you the best deal possible," the man said. "I'm honestly amazed they came down so far. I'm willing to bet your dad had something to do with it. I did have to do some haggling just now, and Lisa hemmed and hawed, but gave in. The deal is a one-time offer, so if you plead Not Guilty and this goes to trial, there will be no deal and they'll fight tooth and nail to send you to prison."

"What's the deal?" Pacey asked, filling with nervous excitement.

"You'll only have to pay a fine. No jail time, no probation, and if you keep yourself out of trouble, the felony charge will be expunged from your record on your twenty-first birthday."

He almost couldn't believe it. "But that's only if I plead Guilty?" he said with a frown. A flame of indignation licked at his insides, and again the desire to throttle Drue Valentine welled up strongly inside him.

Jason grinned. "That's where the haggling bit came in. I said you've never touched drugs in your life, let alone sold them. And I told Lisa that it just doesn't sit right with me to make an innocent eighteen-year-old boy lie and say he's guilty of a felony drug crime. It could effectively ruin his reputation, not to mention the reputation of his family, something that could potentially affect the rest of his life. I got her to agree to a No Contest plea. So, when your name is called, and we walk up to the podium and the judge asks what your plea is, you're gonna say 'No Contest.'"

"What does that mean?"

"The outcome will remain the same, but with a No Contest plea you are refusing to admit guilt. You're merely stating that you're not going to fight the charges. The judge will sentence you just the same as a Guilty plea, but you're not going to stand there and say you're guilty."

Pacey breathed a huge sigh of relief. "How much will the fine be?"

For the first time, Jason's smile faltered. "Uh… well, I don't know. Lisa will present a number to the judge, and it's usually the max amount. I'll counter it, but ultimately, it's up to the judge's discretion. He'll have the final say, but Judge Welsh doesn't usually get too crazy with fines for someone your age. He knows a kid who's not even out of high school doesn't have that kind of money to fork over, nor do you own any property, and it's not like you come from a country club family."

"If I plead Not Guilty, how soon would it go to trial?"

"The judge would most likely set a date about three months from now."

Three months? September. Joey would be starting her first semester at Worthington. He couldn't do that to her. What the prosecutor was offering was honestly the best he could hope for, he decided. "Okay. I'll take the deal."

Half an hour later, his name was called. Pacey stepped forward and stood beside his lawyer. The court clerk read aloud his charges: two counts of possession of false identification, and drug possession with intent to distribute.

The white-haired judge asked Pacey, "Do you understand the charges against you?"

"Yes, I understand them."

"Good. How do you plead?"

Indignation swirled around his gut. He still couldn't believe this had happened to him. Pacey shook his head with disgust. "No Contest."

Judge Welsh looked at him in surprise for a moment. Then the white-haired judge called both lawyers up to the bench. They talked quietly. Pacey had no idea what was being said. He watched as Jason turned and stared at someone. He followed the man's gaze and saw he was looking at his father. A minute later, the two lawyers returned.

"What was that about?" Pacey whispered.

"The judge had been under the impression you were going to plead Guilty, so we explained it to him."

Then the prosecutor spoke. Lisa Edwards was petite, and wore a charcoal suit jacket with a matching pencil skirt. Her blond hair was up in a bun. She looked about forty years of age, more or less. "Your Honor, we ask the court to impose the maximum fine of two hundred dollars for each count of false identification possession, and the maximum fine of twenty-five thousand dollars for the charge of possession with intent."

"Your Honor," Jason spoke up. "The minimum fine is a much fairer sentence. My client can't be expected to pay much more than that. He is a senior in high school with a part-time job. He does not have twenty-five thousand dollars. This request by Ms. Edwards is ludicrous."

"And how much money does your client have, Mr. Monroe?" he asked pointedly.

Pacey blanched, frozen in place. No. Oh, no.

"Well, I, uh, I don't know, Your Honor. My client hasn't shared that information with me. I can't imagine it's very much. I don't think I need to remind you that he's a teenager."

"No, I don't need to be reminded, thank you."

The judge straightened up and leaned over the bench. Before he spoke, he glanced over towards the wall on his right and stared for a moment. Pacey turned his head to see his father holding the judge's gaze. "Young man," Judge Welsh spoke sternly, drawing his attention back to the bench. "Drug possession is a serious matter, and I believe the punishment should fit the crime."

His mind was screaming with dismay.

"The court finds that the defendant's plea of No Contest is acceptable. Mr. Witter, I sentence you to pay a fine of fifteen thousand dollars."

"What if I refuse to pay it?" he retorted.

"Pacey!" his lawyer whispered furiously.

"Then I'll sentence you to thirty days in jail and the prosecutor will garnish your bank account. So, I suggest you willingly pay the fine, Mr. Witter." The judge rapped the gavel, indicating the end of the proceeding.

Pacey looked over at his dad. Their eyes locked, and his father grinned with the joy of petty triumph. "You coldhearted son of a bitch," he spat angrily.

Eyes popping in shock, Judge Welsh banged his gavel sharply. "Mr. Monroe, control your client!" He shifted his gaze away from the lawyer and looked fiercely down upon him from the bench. "Pacey Witter, one more outburst like that and I'll hold you in contempt and slap you with another fine." He rapped the gavel again to emphasize his authority.

The ride home to Capeside was silent. No one else in the car spoke, no doubt feeling the anger and frustration radiating off him. Pacey was ashamed and furious, sorely grieved at having lost all his money—the money for Worthington. He hated himself. He hated his life. He hated the world. He hated God. He hated nearly everyone and everything right now. He wanted to get the hell out of this town and never come back. Never wanted to speak to or see anyone in this town again.

Resentment toward his family rose up like bile. He cared deeply for his siblings, but he was the only child who had faced his father's vindictiveness, who had dealt with the brunt of his rages, who had suffered the most from his mother's alcoholic neglect. His siblings managed to escape, those who had wanted to leave. He had tried to get out. He'd worked and saved his money, and planned on a life with Joey far from here. And his father had made sure to snatch it out of his grasp purely out of spite. He could feel his heart hardening toward them all.

When they reached the beach house, Pacey quickly left Doug's car and stormed inside. He went right up to his bedroom and then tore off his suit. He wanted to burn it. After pulling on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, he sat on the edge of his bed, thinking of his father. He'd never felt this angry in his life. His blood boiled over. We're not speaking from this day forward, he told himself.

Anger at his father consumed him, but it was Joey's face he kept coming back to.

He could picture the raw pain and disappointment in her eyes when he told her about the money, and he felt such a twisting knot of helplessness and rage and fear that he didn't know how to hold it in. How could he face her after what happened today? How could he bear it? If he had known the choice would come down to going to jail, or being the cause of Joey being unable to go to Worthington, he would have picked jail.

There was a knock on his bedroom door. He didn't say anything.

"Pacey, I can't imagine what you're feeling right now. I'm so sorry," his sister said through the door. "Look, I have to leave for work. My shift starts at noon. Unless you want me to call in and stay here with you?"

He couldn't bear to hang around the house with his sister's sorrowful looks directed at him. "Just go to work, Gretchen."

After a while, he returned downstairs. Once Gretchen had left, he'd thought he was the only one around, until he heard a voice saying goodbye. He walked into the kitchen and saw Andie hanging up the phone.

"You're still here."

Her mouth curved into a small smile. "I'm still here."

With a heavy sigh, he turned into the living room and sat down on the couch. Andie followed and sat down beside him. "You know, I was kind of surprised you actually had the money to pay the fine," she said gently.

"I'd been saving for a long time." He shook his head. "And now it's gone. My dad knew I had that money. You know, it's my own fault. I couldn't keep my mouth shut. It's the curse."

"What curse?"

"The birthday curse," he explained. "Something disastrous always happens on my birthday. And on my eighteenth birthday, I got in that big fight with my dad, and I stupidly let it slip that I'd been saving up that money. I'm cursed."

"I've never heard anything so ridiculous in my life. Pacey, you're not cursed."

It sure felt like it. "I can't believe my own father would've stooped so low." His throat seized with emotion. Hot tears pricked his eyes. "I hate him. I hate him."

"No, you don't," Andie said softly. "You love him. That's why it hurts so much."

Pacey put his head in his hands, and as anger turned to grief, he became overcome with emotion and cried as if his heart was breaking. She placed a comforting hand on his back. "I'm fine, Andie." The words sounded more like a gurgle.

"I can tell," she quipped, before taking a deep breath. "I do hope you and your dad can reconcile one day. You know how bad things were between my dad and Jack, and they have a great relationship now."

"Where do I even go from here?" he whimpered.

"Forgiveness," she remarked.

"Forgiveness?" he scowled, lifting his face to look at her.

"You asked."

Scoffing, he shook his head. "I kind of find it hard to forgive when the man has done nothing but make my life a living torment."

"Forgiveness is a choice, Pacey. Only you can make that choice."

And then Joey's face was swimming in front of his eyes again, filling him with a fresh wave of despair. "How can I explain this to Joey?"

"She'll understand."

"Understand that it's now my fault she won't go to Worthington?"

Andie's brows knitted in confusion. "What do you mean?"

He wiped his face with the back of his hand. "The money wasn't for me. Worthington didn't approve enough financial aid, so she's stuck having to pay fifteen grand a year. The money was gonna help her get there, you know, pay for her first year, and then we were gonna work her way through the rest."

Silence filled the room for a long moment. "Okay, um… I don't know how to say this tactfully, so I'm just gonna give it to you straight. Pacey, it's not your responsibility to fund Joey's college education."

"I know that, Andie. I wasn't doing it out of a sense of responsibility."

"Look, I know chivalry is your thing, but maybe this was being a little too chivalrous. What about your own education? You could've used that money for yourself."

"Well, it's a moot point now, isn't it? The money is gone."

Heaving a sigh, Andie got up from the couch and moved towards the kitchen. "I'm starving. I'm gonna make us some lunch. You want a sandwich?"

He crossed his arms and frowned. "I'm not hungry."

"I'm gonna make you one, anyway. You can eat it or not. The choice is yours."

He rolled his eyes.

"You know, Pacey, maybe you should look at the bright side of things," she said as she opened the fridge. "You're a free man. You're not going to prison. And in a few short years, you'll have a clean record and it'll be like none of this ever happened."

He grumbled under his breath. "Yeah, right."

"And mark my words. Someday, somehow, some way, Drue Valentine will get what's coming to him. Karma is a bitch."

He closed his eyes in despair. "How am I gonna break this news to Joey? What do I even say?"

"She might already know." Andie pulled out two plates from one of the cabinets and grabbed the loaf of sliced bread.

"How?"

"Well, I told Jack. He's at school, so it's not outside the realm of possibility that he passed the information on to her."

His brows furrowed. "When did you tell Jack?"

"Just before you came downstairs. I told him I'd call him at noon to give him an update. I'd honestly expected to have to call from the courthouse, but the arraignment didn't take as long as I thought it would."

Was it really possible Joey knew? What was going through her mind? Was she angry? Hurt? Disappointed? The thought of letting her down made him feel sick, but Pacey wanted to know what she was feeling. Would she even want to look at him, speak to him, knowing she was now prevented from going to her dream school?

She not only had a felon for a father, but now a boyfriend as well. The one person in the world he couldn't bear to be ashamed of him, and this was now her reality. How could he ever live this down? How could she ever look at him the same? The justice system might expunge his record in a few years, but it would never be able to expunge Joey's memory.

Dawn sunlight was leaking in around her bedroom curtains when Joey opened her eyes on Tuesday morning. She was fuzzy and disoriented as she lifted her head from the desk, where she had collapsed at some point while studying. She focused on her surroundings. On her desk were notes, old homework assignments, and her biology and calculus textbooks lay open. Everything seemed normal. Maybe she had been dreaming.

Joey ran her hands over her face tiredly, and then her gaze fell on the snow globe. There was a miniature Eiffel Tower inside it. She picked it up, enjoying the weight of it in her hand, the coolness of its smooth glass. Pacey had given it to her for Christmas sophomore year. She'd come upon him in the Ice House kitchen, leaving the New Year's Eve party. He had been in a foul mood and confronted her about her decision to forgo the semester abroad in Paris, angry that she'd chosen Dawson over the opportunity of a lifetime. Immediately they'd started bickering.

"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..." He'd hesitated—there had been no party since Mitch and Gail were about to split up. "Anyway, it's an Eiffel Tower snow globe. Merry Christmas."

After, he'd slipped out the door without another word. She remembered taking the gift home and unwrapping it in the privacy of her bedroom. She remembered the tears that had come to her eyes as she shook the globe and watched the tiny flakes dance and swirl.

Then the events of last night came rushing back to Joey full force, making her feel sick inside—sick and worried and angry.

She was sick with guilt for running away, but she'd felt like she needed to regain control. Because this situation was so out of her power that she needed something she could control. Something she could have a say about when everything else in her world was suddenly spiraling uncontrollably. And throwing herself into studying for her finals was something she could control, like the neurotic overachiever she was. She looked down at her notebooks and the index cards she'd made for study aides. This was something she could understand, analyze, and make clear choices about.

She was worried for Pacey and what could happen to him in court today. She had no idea if he was going to plead guilty or not guilty. She had no idea if the ordeal would come to an end today, or if it would go on for who knew how long. She had no idea if he would end up with a jail sentence or not. She could only hope and pray that he wouldn't. Just the thought alone that he would was too painfully devastating to contemplate.

She was angry over the unfairness of it all. She was filled with hate for Drue Valentine, who had not just caused serious trouble for Pacey but who had totally disrupted their lives, perhaps altering their lives forever.

After she showered and dressed, Joey walked into the kitchen to pour herself a cup of hot coffee. Her sister was sitting Alexander into his booster seat at the dining table.

"You look awfully tired, Jo," Bessie said. "Didn't you get any sleep at all last night?"

"I got some. An hour or two, maybe."

She quietly toasted some bread, and after she'd spread butter over the two slices, she sat down at the table. She couldn't make the sick feeling go away, but she knew she had to eat something before she went to school, and forced herself to take a bite.

"Joey, is everything okay?" her sister asked after she'd finished off her toast.

Tears came to her eyes and a lump of emotion formed in her throat. She couldn't speak. She knew she'd burst into tears if she did, so she only shook her head.

"Oh, my God, Jo, what's wrong? You're not pregnant, are you?"

"No, I'm not pregnant, Bessie!" she exclaimed, and then the tears began to fall. Unable to fight the storm of emotion brewing inside her, she leaned over the table, buried her face in her arms, and cried as if her heart would break.

"Joey, please tell me what is going on," her sister implored, sounding distressed.

She sat up and took a steadying breath. It was bound to become public knowledge soon enough, so she may as well spill the beans. "Pacey was arrested last night. He has to go to court for an arraignment today." A wave of nausea hit her. The District Court in Orleans was the same one she'd sat in when her father had been sentenced to prison, both times.

Bessie's mouth fell open in shock. "I can't believe this," she scoffed. "What happened?"

Her eyes narrowed at her sister's tone, as if she was already judging Pacey before even hearing the facts. "I really don't want to talk about it right now, and especially not with you."

"Hey, you better watch it, because if he's done something seriously wrong, you're gonna need me."

"Why, so I can sit through one of your endless lectures?" She got up from the table and carried her plate into the kitchen.

Bessie followed her. "So, I can help you straighten out your life if he's made a mess of it."

"Oh, so I can have a life more like yours," she snarked.

Her sister laughed derisively. "You think you're better than me? Look at you. You're just like me."

"No, I'm not because I assure you, Bessie, that no matter what happens to me, my life will be different."

"You can say that again. At least I have someone in my life who knows how to take care of himself. Do you?" she sneered.

Anger made Joey's face burn. "What happened to Pacey last night was not his fault! It's unfair and unjust what's happened to him. And I'm not going to school today," she said defiantly, knowing her sister would be livid. "I'm going with him to court, to be there for him, which is where I need to be."

Bessie's eyes went wide, her face contorting in anger. "You have very important exams today. School comes first! Your future, your achievements, all your hard work… they come first before some boy!"

She bristled. "Pacey isn't just some boy."

"I know that, Joey, but you can't allow his bad situation to make a mess of things for you!"

"How can I go to school and sit there through my finals, knowing Pacey is in court, unjustly, and possibly getting saddled with the worst punishment imaginable? And I'm not there with him? How could he ever forgive me? I just… I don't think I can do that."

Her sister's eyes popped. "What, so you'll skip school? And get a zero on your finals? Get salutatorian taken away from you? I don't think so! Over my dead body. You're going to school and sitting for your exams!"

"It's my life, Bessie! I'm eighteen, and you can't tell me what to do!"

"You know what?" She paused, shaking her head in disgust. "You're right. You're not like me at all. You're like Mom. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Pacey is just like Dad. And if you don't wizen up, young lady, you're gonna throw it all away to support him while he messes up again and again, just like she did. That's how your life will be, everything different but the same."

Her words cut like a knife. If it had not been her sister, Joey might've lashed out. Instead, she stormed away to her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

Sitting on her bed, she stared at the clock, unsure what to do. The first finals of the day were scheduled to start at seven-thirty. Knowing her boyfriend had agreed to call her in the morning, she waited until quarter to seven, but no call came. Was he angry with her for leaving last night? Did he just forget to call? Or was it possible he'd managed to get some sleep and just wasn't up yet?

Backpack over her shoulder, she returned to the kitchen and grabbed the cordless. She dialed Pacey's number, but it just rang and rang. She tried to tell herself that it was possible he was upstairs and still in bed, or perhaps in the shower. When the answering machine picked up, she returned the phone to its base. With a heavy sigh, she made for the front door.

Joey sat in her truck, unmoving and undecided. Bessie's words were like a poison seeping into her mind and creating an underlying fear.

She started the engine and backed out of the driveway. She drove into town with no clear destination. She drove slowly, well below the speed limit, trying to give herself time before she had to make a choice. When it came time to make a decision, to turn right or left, she made a left turn and headed for the high school.

A brick in the pit of her stomach, hard and flat and unsettling, weighed her down as Joey parked in the student lot. She left the truck and made her way towards the school. She spotted Jen and Jack loitering outside the main entrance doors, and wondered if they were waiting for her. She plodded up the walk, head forward, eyes trained on Jen. She was ready to cry again, but as long as she had a focal point, she could hold back.

"Hi, Joey," Jack greeted her.

"Hey, how are you?" Jen greeted, her voice gentle, full of concern, which made Joey want to cry more than ever. "I was hoping you'd call me last night."

"I'm sorry," she said as they turned to walk inside. "I was at Pacey's until one o'clock, so it was really late when I got home. I don't think your grandmother would've appreciated the telephone ringing in the middle of the night."

"I couldn't believe it when Jen told me last night," Jack said. "I hope Pacey's okay. You should've seen the look on my sister's face when I told her this morning."

"So, what exams do you guys have today?" Joey asked, desperate to think of something else for even two minutes.

Exchanging a look with Jen, he cleared his throat. "Uh, well, I've got Physics right now, AP Statistics at nine-forty, and AP Economics at twelve-thirty. That's it for today. You?"

"AP Bio first, then AP Calc, and then AP Government after lunch."

"English Lit," Jen said. "And then I've got AP Statistics after that, but none this afternoon."

As they moved further down the hall, Jen pulled her into the first girls' bathroom they came to. She checked to make sure the stalls were empty, and then spoke. "We have ten minutes before the bell rings. So, tell me what happened with Pacey's arrest. Is he all right?"

Tears filled her eyes. She'd already had one crying fit today. Joey really didn't want to tempt the fates and go for a second, but her throat seized with emotion. She swallowed against lump forming there. When she could speak, the words poured out of her, and she told Jen everything that had happened with Pacey the night before.

"I shouldn't have left," she cried, wiping the tears from her cheek.

"Don't beat yourself up over it. I know this may seem selfish, but you did the right thing. I'm sure Pacey would agree with me."

Her face crumpling, she shook her head. "I'm not so sure. You should have seen him, Jen…" More tears brimmed over and she brushed them away. "And… well, he does believe that sometimes it's right to do the wrong thing."

Jen snorted. "Doesn't every teenage boy?" Then she smiled kindly. "I know Pacey is in the middle of a horrible situation, but don't go making things worse for yourself. Try to concentrate on what you need to do, and then you'll go see him right after school."

"What if he gets a sentence?" The thought alone made her want to weep.

"Then… I'll go with you to the jail to see him. But he probably won't. It's a first offense, and his dad's the sheriff. I doubt he'll see the inside of a cell. Just… try not to assume the worst, Joey. Let's hope for the best, okay?"

Taking a deep breath, she turned to face the sink, and splashed water on her face. Jen handed her a paper towel. What would be the best case scenario for Pacey? To avoid jail, of course, but missing school today did him no favors. He'd get a zero on two final exams, which would mean an automatic course failure. He was screwed out of graduating either way. Unless… maybe he didn't have to be.

Struck with sudden inspiration, she stared at her reflection in the mirror.

The bell rang, informing students they had five minutes to get to wherever they were supposed to be. "Jen, you said you have your English final right now?"

"Yeah."

"Where is it gonna be? In Mr. Kasdan's classroom?"

"No, it's in the gym."

Joey started walking out of the bathroom. When they were both in the hall, she turned in the direction of the school gymnasium.

"Don't you have to get to your AP Bio classroom?"

"I don't care if I'm a few minutes late."

Once they reached the gym, she saw some of her fellow seniors taking seats in the many rows of desks and chairs. Joey quickly spotted Mr. Kasdan behind the long table at the front, where students were signing in to sit for the exam. She hurried towards him. While Jen approached the line to sign, she walked around to other side of the table. Her heart hammered beneath her ribs.

The teacher looked at her in surprise. "Miss Potter, were you not informed that the AP exam isn't until Thursday?"

"Yes, I know, Mr. Kasdan. I'm not here for me, exactly, but I really need to talk to you," she said, her tone filled with urgency and desperation. "It can't wait."

His expression became alarmed, and he gestured for her to step away from the table, putting distance between them and the other students. Joey moved back towards the wall, and after Mr. Kasdan directed a teacher's aide to take his post at the table, he joined her.

She looked at his expectant face. He was obviously waiting for her to speak. Where could she even begin? She took a deep breath, and then it all came out in a rush. "Uh, so, you know how back in December I took the AP midterm—the first time—and I blew it? Got a C minus. And Pacey came to you and asked you to let me retake the test? And you did, knowing that my performance on that first try was uncharacteristic of me and you let me have another chance?"

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Yes, Miss Potter, I recall."

"Okay, well, I need to return the favor and ask you to let Pacey make up the English final on another day because he can't be here."

"Because of illness?"

"No."

"A family emergency?"

"Uh, not exactly…"

"Miss Potter, you know that finals must be dated the day they are scheduled, and that students need a doctor's note or a pre-approved absence to make up a final exam on another date."

She once again felt dangerously close to tears, and had to take another deep breath. "But, see, it's more a personal emergency. Pacey's in trouble—"

"What kind of trouble?"

"Well… he's suffered a terrible injustice. He has to be in court today, and so he can't be here. Believe me when I tell you that he would rather be in the gym right now taking the final."

The warning bell rang out, and she knew she had one minute to get to the biology classroom. The teacher glanced at the desks quickly filling with students. "If I bend the final exam rules for one person, I'll have to start bending them for everyone, and then where would we be? Chaos, that's what. I do thank you for letting me know Mr. Witter will not be in attendance this morning, and I am sorry for his troubles, but I have a final to give and must give my attention to the students who are actually here to take it."

She choked back her emotion. "Mr. Kasdan, do you remember what you told me about Thoreau? You said he wasn't really all that alone out there by Walden pond. He had neighbors and friends and people he could rely on." The teacher heaved a resigned sigh, clearly remembering and understanding the point she was making. "Pacey has worked so hard this year and I can't just stand by and do nothing if I can somehow help him, and he deserves my help. He deserves your help. Isn't there any chance he can take the exam later? Any chance at all?"

"I'll take it into consideration. Now I really must go. I cannot start the exam late."

Joey rushed from the gym, starting to feel a bit more hopeful. She knew she should head immediately for her exam, but she'd never be able to concentrate until she'd attempted to see her goal to completion. Instead, she didn't head straight for her biology classroom, and made her way to Dr. Rochford's room.

His door was shut, and she knocked as she opened it. The classroom was empty of students. She saw the familiar face of her old trig teacher sitting at his desk. He beamed a smile as he looked up, and she saw recognition in his face.

"Why, if it isn't Joey Potter!"

"Hi, Dr. Rochford."

He stood up to greet her. "And to what do I owe the honor and privilege of this visit?"

Feeling confident and encouraged, Joey stepped towards him. "You're giving the trigonometry final exam today?"

He nodded with a smile. "Yes, right after lunch."

"Well, I have a favor to ask you."

"For you, Miss Potter? Anything."

She breathed a sigh of relief, and smiled. "I'm so happy you said that."

Ten minutes later, she was walking into her AP Bio classroom. The test had already begun. Her teacher, Mrs. Mayer, looked at her with surprise, and then disappointment. "I was getting a little worried about you. I'm relieved you decided to show up, but… tardy to the final exam, Joey? Really? That's going to cost you half a letter grade."

With a shrug, she sat down at an empty desk. She didn't care. It was worth it. Her teacher placed the exam booklet in front of her. A mixture of relief and hope flowed through her to balance out the fear and anxiety over what could happen to Pacey in court today. With that, she was able to focus, and with reasonable calm, complete the final before the bell rang at nine-thirty.

A little over two hours later, Joey was walking with Jack into the cafeteria, where they sat down with their lunch trays. "So, how do you think you did?" he asked while opening a carton of chocolate milk.

"All right," she replied with a shrug. "You?"

"Yeah, all right. We'll see when the report card comes just how spot on or far off I am with that assessment."

She smiled and opened her water bottle. Now that she could no longer focus on exam questions, her mind was immediately engulfed with thoughts of Pacey. She forked her salad, but didn't have much of an appetite.

All of a sudden, Dawson was standing there holding a tray. "Mind if I join you guys?"

"No, not at all," Jack replied.

"So, how were your exams?" he asked them as he took the chair between the two friends.

While Jack answered in the positive, Joey merely shrugged. She didn't have the mental energy or the desire to hold a conversation.

"I have AP Economics after this," Dawson told them. "And then I'll go right home to study for the French final tomorrow."

The boys continued to talk, but she was barely paying attention. Then someone starting calling Jack's name, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Hey, Jack! Yo, McPhee! You got a phone call!"

He didn't seem at all surprised by this, and she watched him get up from the table and walk out the door that led to the parking lot. She knew there was a payphone out there against the wall that a lot of the students used. He was only gone a few minutes, and then he was walking back inside. When he rejoined them at the table, he looked at Joey and frowned.

"That was Andie. She went to court with Pacey this morning."

This was news to her. "Andie… Andie went to the arraignment?"

Jack shrugged. "Yeah. Well, you know my sister. She wasn't about to sit around twirling her thumbs waiting to hear Pacey's fate."

She didn't know how she felt about that. Once again, guilt plagued her. Then fear rose up as the dominating emotion. "What did she say?"

"Well, Pacey managed to avoid a jail sentence."

Emotion overwhelmed her. Tears of relief filled her eyes and she choked back a sob. "Oh, thank God." Then she noticed the look on Jack's face. "What?"

"He avoided jail, but he was slapped with a fifteen-thousand-dollar fine. He had to pay it right there at the courthouse. I guess he's really upset about it. His dad is involved somehow, but Andie didn't elaborate. She said Pacey hasn't spoken a single word to anyone since they walked out of the courtroom."

"Oh, my God," Dawson said. "That's awful. Everything he'd saved, and of course, that means…" His sympathetic gaze turned to Joey. "What are you gonna do?" he asked.

Her eyes went round as quarters. Pacey's money. It was gone. She couldn't use it for Worthington.

With this news, relief coursed through her veins. She felt as if a weight had been lifted from her soul. Breathing a relieved sigh, she looked at Dawson. "I… I don't know," she answered.

He was fighting a grin. There was something in his eyes—like a quick flash, that was all—that looked almost like triumph. She found it unsettling, like something that was reaching out to her on a far different level than the verbal one they were on. But in a quick flash it was gone, and Dawson was once again looking at her with sympathy.

Later, at the sound of the two-thirty bell, Joey rushed out of her AP Government classroom and hurried out of the school. She walked fast across the student lot and hopped in her truck. In less than ten minutes, she was pulling into the driveway on Bridge Street. She parked the truck towards the back of the house, and jumped out. Hurrying through the open gate in the fence, she made for the back porch, only to see Pacey sitting there with his feet up on the chaise lounge chair. Surprised, she slowed down.

Sadness was etched all over his face. With a frown, she climbed the steps to the porch and he lowered his legs so she could sit down on the chaise lounge.

Pacey sat up, moving a bit closer to her. She didn't seem angry at the moment, but he knew her temper could easily flare. "So," he began tentatively. "I'm guessing you heard what happened in court today."

"Yeah."

What could he say to her? He did what he did best and said something glib. "You now have a boyfriend who's a convicted felon. A proud moment for you, I'm sure."

She sighed, her frown deepening. Her heart filled with pity and compassion for him. It wasn't fair. He didn't deserve this.

"Look, you don't need to be here right now, Jo. You don't need to speak to me."

"That's nonsense, Pacey. We need each other."

"Why in the world did I try to help Drue Valentine?" he demanded, his voice becoming raw with despair. "How could I have done something so damn stupid?"

"You couldn't have known it would come to this," she said softly, and then, before he could say anything more, she wrapped her arms around him and held him. And held him and held him as if her life depended on it.

And for one long moment he kept himself ramrod-stiff. He didn't deserve comfort! That she should try and comfort him when she was the one who lost out on Worthington, and he was so dreadfully at fault…

"You can't blame yourself, Pacey." And she held him close, kissing him softly on the hair.

He melted in her arms. Emotion filled her eyes, making them wet. She had to confess. Pulling away, she began to speak. "There's something I should probably offer up. I'm not angry about the money, Pace. Honestly… I feel relieved. I didn't want to take your money for Worthington, not really. It was eating me up inside. You should never have made that kind of offer. I never want something like that to come between us, and it would've."

That was the last thing he'd expected to hear. "But I'd wanted you to use the money. You're the best investment I could ever make. And for the first time, I just… I felt like I was actually doing something to help you get to Worthington, to help you achieve your dream, instead of holding you back from it."

Joey shook her head. This again? "Pacey, you've never held me back. You have to stop thinking like that."

"You know what? I could stop thinking like that if you'd just promise me one thing," he said. "That if the day ever comes—and it may come much sooner than either one of us think—but if that day ever comes where you did feel like I was holding you back... just promise me that you'd cut me loose, yeah?"

Shocked, her eyes went wide. Her stomach tightened into a fierce knot. "Pacey."

"Promise me that."

"I won't promise you that. You're asking me to promise to let you go." Her eyes filled with tears. How could he say such a thing to her? "I can't do that."

She tucked herself against his chest and Pacey's arm came around her, holding her close. "Everything will be all right," she said after a few moments of quiet. "I know it will. We just have to hold on, and not let go, no matter what happens." She lifted her face to look at him. "I love you."

This thing that he felt—that Joey had given him. Love. Trust. Completeness. He didn't deserve it. That didn't mean he wouldn't spend the rest of his life trying. That didn't mean he didn't want to drink it up like finding water in a desert.

"I love you, too, sweetheart," he said huskily, kissing her with all the gentleness he could find inside himself.

Joey wrapped her arms around Pacey's neck and returned his kiss with tenderness of her own. They held onto each other, pouring their love into one another. They were willing into each other a strength that, alone, they could never have. When they moved away—inches, but enough—and gazed at each other, there was a determination between them that was an affirmation that the whole was far greater than the parts. As long as they were together, they could get through anything.