He had kissed her once.
He remembered it vividly the second he saw her again.
He remembered spending half the night trying to figure out just the right words. But when his words failed him, as they often had back then, he had just decided to kiss her to let her know how he felt.
He had been the first to pull away that night, which he had figured was a sign in his favor. He had not wanted her to feel as though he were pressuring her so he had stopped the kiss before he really had wanted to.
After her initial shock wore off, she had looked at him with those big, impossibly brown eyes and they had said more than her awkward fumbling with words could have. She then told him that while she was "surprised and flattered" by his kiss, that she was "involved" with someone else.
He knew the someone else she spoke of; some drama club guy that was her neighbor and only paid her attention when his blond arm-candy of the moment was tired of his company. Her crush on the guy was one of the worst kept secrets in school, not that many people paid it much attention.
He had known this much about her this morning, but not much else, when he had been assigned to work with her on a school project.
What had started out as a way to pass the time, his wry observations of her life to make conversation, had quickly become a history lesson in all that was Joey Potter. While at first he thought she was oversharing he came to appreciate the fact that she was such a trusting person to feel as though she could give him the gritty details of her life.
Or, maybe, it was his trusting eyes. He had been told once he had sincere eyes.
By the end of the evening he had come to realize that there wasn't anything he did not like about her. All he could remember about the ride back to her place to drop her off was his sweaty palms on the steering wheel and the awkward silence of the car ride. They did talk on that ride but it was brief, full of constant starts and stops in conversation, as he tried to find the words to ask her out.
The sweaty palms were back.
He was sure that she had forgotten him but the second their eyes met he saw a flash of recognition. The look in her eyes was haunted and pleading and broke his heart all over again.
He asked her the routine questions and kept his eyes trained on his note pad where he jotted down the few details that she could give. Had it been any other mother he would have likely suspected her due to her calm attitude. However, having known her in the past, he knew that she was very adept at concealing how she felt. She put on a brave face but he could see through it. Her hands were trembling as she absently played with a simple ring on her right hand.
Once upon a time, Joey Potter had defined her life as before and after she had met Dawson Leery. For the longest time he was the most important person in her life. At times her best friend, confidant and at one point her boyfriend. Even in that awkward period after their relationship had dissolved he had always been honest with her, even painfully so at times.
Now her life was defined by her son, her life before him and her life with him. She did not want to consider for one moment that she would have to face her life without him. Despite her pregnancy being unplanned, and feeling inadequate as a parent at times, especially in the beginning, she had never regretted having him and not "getting rid of him" like her ex had suggested.
And while a master at keeping her emotion under wraps, nothing had ever been this frightening and painful in her entire life. Her baby boy was out there somewhere, likely with a stranger…and who knew their intentions.
Despite having recognized Pacey, she could not place him quite yet. She knew that she had met him long ago, most likely back in Capeside. Had they met under different circumstances she might have told him how good he looked, especially minus the "Julius Cesar" haircut she could distinctly picture on him. But her mind was otherwise occupied and the best she could do was answer his questions.
"Ms Potter, I know this is difficult, but do you believe for any reason that his father might be responsible?"
She thought of her ex bitterly but shook her head and sighed, "No. He's never even asked to see him. He doesn't care."
It was then that her façade fell away and she broke down in tears. Not for her ex but for what he had denied their son: a father. She had failed them both. She had failed her son by not keeping a better eye on him. She had failed her ex by living up to his expectation of her.
Despite having grown up with two sisters, Pacey was ill equip to deal with a crying woman. Usually one of the uniforms was quick to step in the offer reassurance at scenes like this. But they had made themselves scarce while he interviewed the mother.
So he reached out to her, wrapped his arm around her shoulders and when she did not flinch away, or push him away, she accepted his arms. He pulled her against him and rubbed her back soothingly as her body was wracked with sobs.