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There is no Morgan. Therefore, Joey stays with AJ for the whole weekend and they don’t break up.
“See, Pacey,” she says when he picks her up from the train station. “No tears were shed, no accusations thrown, and AJ and I are still friend”—she stops short at the look he gives her—“ly or whatever. So all your warnings of doom and gloom didn’t amount to much. Shocker.”
“Okay, Potter. You’ve convinced me. You and college guy are the very definition of stability. A love story for the ages.” He grins when she socks him in the shoulder and he thinks about how very normal this is; how easily he can do this. After all, he’s had a whole weekend to get his shit together. “So when are you going to see him again?”
He sees her slight hesitation before she clicks in her seatbelt. She reaches out to the dashboard as she says, “Um, not sure. We didn’t make any concrete plans.”
“Uh, excuse me. What do you think you’re doing?” he says, batting her hand away from the radio dial.
“There’s more to music than lame old man rock. How about something written in our lifetime? Let me broaden your horizons a bit.”
“I’ll broaden my horizons when you learn to drive that truck of yours… I’d say the odds are slim to none.”
“Hey, you told me I was doing really well when I made it down the driveway the other day!”
“Yes,” he says with a placating nod. “You did do really well down that straight wide path. It was almost, what, twenty feet? I stand by that.” He grins again when he sees her rolling her eyes. “No plans with college beau? Really?”
“He’s busy okay? He’s got a ton of clubs and he’s a TA for two classes this semester—”
“Alright, alright, I forgot. Renaissance man. Forgive me, I was just curious when he’s actually going to take you out on a proper date.”
“Right. Thanks for your concern, super genuine by the way, but it’s completely unnecessary. I’m fine with how things are between me and AJ.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.” She stews in silence for a few minutes before she can’t help herself. “Why are you so dead set against my relationship with him anyway?”
He thinks about this for a minute. “How about you tell me which response won't lead to a fight and we’ll both agree that’s what I said?”
“I loathe you.”
--
“We’ll meet you at the Ferris wheel,” she says, tugging Pacey away by the arm. It’s the last Saturday of their spring break and they’re with everyone else at Capeside’s annual spring carnival. “I want to get some fried Oreos.”
“You know,” he says as she’s pulling him along and she jolts in surprise at the sound of his voice. He’s been sullen and generally unresponsive ever since he picked her up. “It’s customary to ask if a person wants to come along instead of just forcefully dragging them off.” But despite protestations, he doesn’t put up much of a fight.
When they join the back of the line at the booth, she lets go of his arm. “Hmm,” she says, making a big show of staring straight at him. “I don’t see this other person you speak of.”
“Wow, you’re hilarious. That’s what? Eight-year-old humor at best?”
“Says the guy whose entire repertoire consists of poop jokes and the occasional one liner.”
“Why don’t you leave the comedy to me, toots? You’ve never been considered the funny one of this duo.”
“Hate to break it to you, Pace, but those people are laughing at you, not with you. But I wouldn’t expect your pea-brain to comprehend the difference.”
“Look who’s feeling feisty today,” he says, poking her in the side; though he quickly sidesteps when she starts repeatedly punching him in the shoulder. He laughs and puts up his hands. “Truce. You win.”
She smiles proudly. “That’s what I like to hear.”
“And modest to boot.” With his hands still raised, he waves his fingers to signify that he’s harmless, throwing in a disarming smile. But it doesn’t quite reach his eyes and his playful demeanor dissipates a second later when he drops his hands. Great. Is it really considered winning if it means the return of awkward silence and monosyllabic answers?
“So,” she says brightly. “Made good progress on the boat? Haven’t seen you much this week.”
He just gives her a look.
“What?”
He scoffs. “What do you mean? We were all at Aunt Gwen’s that first weekend and I guess you didn’t notice, but I’ve been present and accounted for at every movie night this week.”
“Well no obviously I did—” She’s a little flustered because okay, it’s not like he’s pulled a Houdini this week. But even though he’s physically been there, he hasn’t really been there; he’s been moody and crabby like tonight and it dawns on her that this little tête-à-tête is the first time it’s been just the two of them since Aunt Gwen’s. “I guess—I mean you always ‘happen to stop by’ when Bodie’s cooking dinner or randomly showing up after a late shift at Screen Play and… you haven’t been over once this week.”
Pacey just shrugs.
She blurts out, “Why are you being all weird?”
“What? I’m not weird. You’re weird.” The retort is automatic and it’s so childish that he immediately chuckles. “Laugh,” he says, noticing her stoic expression. “I just proved your point about my sense of humor, didn’t I?” She doesn’t give him a response. “Look, I’m not weird… or haven’t been weird. There is no weirdness.”
“You’re being weird right now!”
“Well obviously this time it’s on purpose. Get with it, Josephine. I thought hanging out with college guy would help you recognize subtext.” Pacey clears his throat. “Where did you guys end up going anyway?”
It takes her a second to realize what he’s asking. And then remembers the last time he had called to hang out was when AJ surprised her with a visit. “Oh. He took me into Boston to see a classical music exhibit.”
Pacey slowly lets his head slump to his shoulder before pretending to wake up with a start. “Oh sorry, inexplicably fell asleep for a moment there.”
“It was… actually really boring,” she admits sheepishly. They both laugh when their eyes meet. “I’m not really sure why he thought I’d like seeing instruments that were played by some famous whoever at some famous wherever.”
“Yeah, he just needs to take one look at your cd collection to know your musical tastes are a bit lacking.”
“Anyway.” She shoves him once with her shoulder. “Even though it was so not my thing, it was kind of nice to do something different for a change.”
He goes quiet.
“You’re being weird again,” she says, looking at him with concerned eyes. “And this time not on purpose.”
Instinctively shifting his gaze away from her, he shakes his head a little as if to clear his mind. “Gee, what meat do you think they use in the corn dog that allows them to only charge twenty-five cents?”
“Really,” she says incredulously. “You think I’d really fall for that segue? I’ll never believe that you, who takes the expiration date on milk as a suggestion, would ever question the safety of eating a corn dog.”
“I’m not getting any younger, you know. All these calories are starting to add up…” he trails off lamely, his face pensive as his eyes shift away from her. She watches as various emotions dance across his face; they flit away before she can get a read on any of them. He suddenly looks up and meets her gaze; and for a moment, it’s like she’s transported back to Aunt Gwen's, standing on that makeshift stage while clutching a microphone, catching his eyes when she instinctively searches for him in the crowd. She feels that same familiar heat crawl up her body, lighting up every one of her nerve endings as they continue to stare at one another in the here and now.
But then something in him flips and in the span of a heartbeat, his usual mask of carelessness slips back into place. He breaks eye contact, shuffling forward to fill the gap in line and sighs mournfully. “You’re right. No one would believe that when I’m looking this good.”
“Pace—”
“Jo—” he says, cutting her off. “How about you buy me four corn dogs and a large Coke and I promise to stop being weird?”
She eyes him like she doesn’t believe him… but gives in anyway. The spring carnival isn’t exactly the best place to get into it. “Three corn dogs and a large Coke. I’ll even look away when you pour in the vodka Jack discreetly handed you earlier.”
‘Oh Potter, you have come a long way.”
--
“So you really think you and Andie are going to go to prom and nothing’s going to happen? Pacey, even you can’t possibly be that deluded.”
“Dawson. Can you please let this go? Just because you’re going with Joey to prom since her boyfriend is at a conference that weekend and Andie and I are going as friends does not mean we’ve slipped back into some alternate dimension of sophomore year, alright?”
“But seriously, it’s prom. You couldn’t dream of a more romantic setting.”
“Trading needles with the homeless guy in the back alley of your parents’ restaurant while watching the sunrise together. Done.”
“Come on, I’m just looking out for you. I know what she did last summer was wrong but Pace, you know better than anyone she wasn’t in the right state of mind. Are you honestly telling me your life’s been better without her? Andie was really good for you.”
“Lay off, Dawson.” Joey puts down her lunch tray as she joins their table. “I know she’s our friend too but last I checked, he’s the injured party here.” She clocks the grateful smile Pacey throws her way and magnanimously smiles back at him. “And because she’s our friend, I wouldn’t want to blame her for any deficiencies in his personality. Pacey is special all on his own.”
“So you keep telling me. I know I’m looking especially appealing in these new pants my ma bought me but watch yourself, Jo. I’m tired of reminding you you’ve got a boyfriend.”
“Oh yeah, that’s what really gets me going. New pants bought by your mom, moron. Did she get tired of trying to clean out those crotch stains from all that quality time you spend with your hand?”
His fork clatters loudly onto the tray as he stares at her in mock outrage. “Josephine Potter! I feel violated to know you’ve fantasized about me in that state of undress. Also, I’d like to draw your attention to the fact that this baggy shirt does not accentuate my figure in the slightest. Do keep that in mind for next time.” He waggles his eyebrows in challenge and even though she sighs loudly, rolling her eyes, she can’t stop herself from engaging in the ensuing staring contest.
Dawson, as always, remains oblivious. “Do you guys think we should get a Journey cover band for Anti-Prom?”
Quickly shifting her gaze to Dawson, she says, “What? No way!”
“Ha!” Pacey slaps his hand on the table. “You looked away first! Chocolate milk please.”
“I looked away because of an external distraction! That doesn’t count!”
“Dawson, impartial judge and friend to all,” Pacey says. “Ruling?”
Dawson looks apologetically at her. “You did look away first.”
“Dammit.” She gets up from the table, stomping to the lunch line. “I hate you both.”
--
“What are we doing out here, Dawson?” she asks, as he ushers her out onto the empty front patio of Leery’s Fresh Fish that’s been decorated for Anti-Prom. “Let’s go back inside. I want to check up on Jack.”
“Wait, I just need a few minutes.” He takes a deep breath. “I wanted to tell you that you look beautiful tonight. And that you’ve been a wonderful date.”
Joey shrugs her shoulders self-consciously, tightening the wrap around her shoulders. “Well it’s been fun. I’m glad we did this.”
He steps a little closer. “Being here with you makes me think of how things used to be. And I have to tell you, Joey, I miss it. I miss us.”
“Dawson,” she says, starting to feel a little wary at him waxing nostalgic.
“I’ve spent months now staring at the blank walls in my room and I still might be unsure of many things in my life but one thing has never been clearer. I need you, Joey. You’re my muse, my soulmate. You’ve always been the one to make sense of my life and I think the reason why I’ve felt so lost this year is because we’ve drifted apart.”
She’s been stunned in place ever since he started his speech but rouses to action when he leans in to kiss her. “Dawson…” she says, gently pushing him back. “We said we were going as friends tonight. I have a boyfriend, remember?”
He scoffs. “The illustrious AJ? The guy you’ve known for a few months?”
“Yeah,” she says, her eyes narrowing. “That guy. You said tonight was about you, me and our friendship. If that was really the case, then you would respect my relationship with him.”
“I said tonight was about moving forward. We’ve been there for each other through every significant moment in our lives so far. Do you really want us to just fade away? Does what you have with him really compare to the history we have? I know there’ve been bumps in the road but… I can’t lose you, Joey. I just can’t.”
She’s quiet again and he hesitates a moment longer before swooping in to kiss her cheek. “Think about it,” he says before walking away, leaving her standing alone on the patio.
A few minutes later, she hears the front door open and starts hastily swiping at the tears on her cheeks.
“Hey.” Pacey steps in front of her and she looks down at his shoes, avoiding his gaze.
“Hey,” she says. “What are you doing out here? Where’s Andie?”
“She decided to tag along with Jack for moral support. He’s chasing his runaway date to the train station.”
“Wow, he must really like the guy. Good for him.” She quietly sniffs, trying to pull herself together. “So you got ditched at prom too, huh? Are we winners or what?”
“We're something alright...” Raising a hand to cradle her cheek, he uses his thumb to wipe an errant tear before letting go. “Was that Dawson leaving?”
She looks at him accusingly. “Did you see everything?”
The guilt is apparent as he hastily clears his throat. “What happened?”
Adopting a breezy tone, she says, “Well, as you know, Dawson has been going through a midlife crisis cause he’s secretly a forty-year-old man. And as junior year comes to a close, he’s reached the end of his soul-searching quest to realize what’s missing from his life.” Joey smiles bitterly when the realization is apparent on his face. “That’s right, lucky me. Wouldn’t life just be perfect if we were a couple? I mean, not that it was so great the first time around. And never mind that I have a boyfriend or that we’ve spent more time this year giving each other the silent treatment than the total duration of our so-called romance. Or that he only seems to want me when he feels like he’s losing me. We’re forevermore erstwhile soulmates torn apart by circumstances beyond our control.”
Pacey nods thoughtfully. “Right. The plot of Greek tragedies and all that fun stuff." He meets her eyes. "So, are you two crazy star-crossed lovers ready to give it another go?”
Heatedly, she says, “Look, I am perfectly aware of what you think about me and Dawson.” But then it’s like all the air leaves her body as she visibly deflates. “And honestly, I’m sick of us too. But when he starts talking about our shared history and the bond we have”—she gives a helpless shrug—“it makes me feel like part of something bigger than myself. Together we share a fate that’s more substantial than anything little Joey Potter from across the creek could do on her own.”
Her words hang between them for a beat; before he dashes them to pieces. “Well frankly Potter, that’s a load of shit. You’ve done some serious rewriting of history there.”
Before she can protest, he grabs onto her shoulders and says firmly, “Jo, he is not the reason why you’re at the top of our class and your relationship is not going to be the reason why you get out of Capeside. You are. No matter what our friend Dawson thinks, you are not tied down by fate, or history, or even this idea of soulmates. You get to decide who you are and who you want to be with. It’s really that simple.”
“That simple, huh?”
“Yeah," he says, staring back at her. "That simple.”
Funny, Joey thinks, the warmth from his hands doing inexplicable things to her insides, it doesn’t feel simple at all. But she’s too drained to even contemplate untangling whatever the hell that means. So she goes to hug him tight, hiding an appreciative smile in his shoulder when he pulls her closer.
But then he makes a big show of smelling her hair. “Whoa, you actually showered for tonight? Are you sure weren’t expecting anything to happen with Dawson?”
She punches his shoulder as she pulls away. “Take me home, asshole.”
He smiles broadly, jauntily holding out the crook of his arm for her to grab onto. “As you wish.” As they’re walking to his car, he says, “You know, I really think we did Ms. Penny Pretty proud tonight. Sure, our ribcages still refused to touch but no toes were trampled on in the process.”
“You literally dropped me on the floor in the middle of a dip.”
“Also true. But let’s focus on the pristine toes, shall we?”
“Eww, no Pace. I am not indulging your gross fetishes.”
He’s quiet for a minute. “Hey, did you get a pedicure for tonight? Can I see?”
“Ow! Stop, Jo! I’m obviously kidding!”
--
“Okay,” she says, unable to hold it in any longer. She does want to discuss this with someone and, for reasons beyond her comprehension, she wants to discuss it with him. “I’m ready to talk about it now.”
“Talk about what?” He’s too busy shoveling chips in his mouth and flipping the pages of his history book to spare her a glance.
“About how it went with Dawson last night. You know, our first talk since prom.”
“Okay, how did it go?”
She scowls at the view of the top of his head. “Forget it. You don’t care,” she says petulantly.
Sighing loudly, Pacey makes a big show of pushing the textbook aside as he puts his elbows on the table and rests his chin on his fists. “Like oh my God, Josephine,” he says in a high-pitched voice. “Like, how did it go?”
Joey tries to keep from smiling but it’s a fruitless endeavor.
He grins back at her. “So?”
“Well, after we got through hurling accusations at one another,” she proceeds to alternate between her normal voice and a poor imitation of Dawson’s, “‘you said last year was literally hell when we were together’—'you’re just punishing me for turning you down after the summer’—'you ruined my life’—'no you ruined mine’—” she rubs her eyes wearily at his sympathetic look. “It was as exhausting as you’re imagining. Anyway,” she says jovially. “We decided to try to be actual friends.”
Pacey just stares at her. “Right,” he says. “In the last couple years, you guys have had an amazing track record with that.”
“I’m serious. I’m tired. Every time either of us reacts in a way that’s unexpected, we start accusing each other of being fickle when really, it’s just growing up. And I know I’m equally guilty of acting like a spoiled child the minute Dawson does something I don’t like but… maybe I want to be better than that. It’s like I’m forever fifteen when I’m with him which only adds to this enormous inferiority complex I already carry around. I can’t do it anymore.”
“But Jo,” he says in mock-concern. “How will I recognize you if you’re not drowning in angst and spitting out scathing recriminations?
She glowers at him. “Maybe I should consider dropping your friendship if I’m really serious about personal growth.”
“Nah, you and I both know you’d miss me too much,” he says easily before his face turns serious. “Look, for what it’s worth, I think you’re making the right call. It’s hard to change if you feel confined to certain roles in your relationships. But speaking from experience, I also know how hard it is to not fall back on old habits.”
His words trigger a question that’s been niggling at the back of her mind. “Is that what happened between you and Dawson?”
He takes a minute to think it over. “‘I gave him my heart and he gave me a pen,’” he says, giving her an innocent look when she glares at him. “Oh, is a reference to Say Anything not the answer you were looking for? What are you talking about then?”
She narrows her eyes. “I’m talking about the fact that before this year, you practically lived at his house. But now you’re always over here trying to convince Bessie to buy cheese in a can. And it used to be that by the time you and I talked, you’d already know verbatim what had occurred between Dawson and me.”
Raising an eyebrow, he says, “That’s some great detective work, Sherlock. But did you forget that I just hung out with the guy last week?”
“Yeah, we all did. In a group. ”
Pacey rolls his eyes when it becomes clear that she’s not going to let this go. “Fine. If you must know, we didn’t have a big fallout or anything. In fact, I’m pretty sure it hasn’t even registered on his radar. Seeing as how I’ve never held the prestigious honor of being his soulmate.” Some of the tension in his body dissipates when she makes a familiar face at his dig. “But I guess it’s been harder than I thought to forget my so-called best friend telling me the best thing I could do is go back to screwing up my life so he feels better about his. And yeah, he might have been drunk, but he was stone cold sober when he accused me of stealing the PSATs this year.” Bitterness seeps into his tone. “The urge to spill my guts to him has kind of lost its luster.”
As she watches him fidget with his pen, a surge of protectiveness rushes through her, catching her off guard. She and Dawson may have settled their issues but now she has the strangest urge to rush over there and pick a fight over anything just so she can yell at him some more. “So why stay friends with him at all?”
He shrugs. “We grew up together. And like you pointed out, he’s willingly shared his home with me for how many years now? I may never feel the same way I did about him, but I’ll always be grateful for that.”
Joey's expression softens in recognition. “Well if it makes you feel better, he cried a little when I told him we were not getting back together.”
Pacey snorts as he finally looks up at her. “Hate to break it to you but that’s child’s play. He bawled like a baby last week when I told him I lost his copy of Great Sexpectations,” he says, laughing loudly at her scandalized reaction.
“Anyway,” she says, matter-of-factly. “Fuck ‘em.”
The astonishment is written all over his face. “Fuck ‘em?”
“Yeah, look at what you’ve done this year. You’re restoring a boat. With your own hands and your own money. And okay, Andie may have led you down the right direction with school but you did the work. You even took the SATs! Whoever doesn’t believe in you, fuck ‘em.”
They share a smile.
“I do have this tutor that’s a real pain in the ass though.” His affectionate tone belies his words. “She’s threatened to withhold Chex Mix on multiple occasions if I ‘don’t cut it out’. So I can’t take all the credit.”
“Wow, she sounds like a real terror.”
“Oh yeah, she’s the worst.” And the way he says it makes her face feel flushed as she glances down at her textbook.
“But you know,” he says, picking up his train of thought a couple minutes later. “She also calls me a moron at least four times a day.”
“Yeah well.” She wrinkles her nose as realization sets in. “She’s also spent more time with you than anyone else this year so what does that say about her sanity?”
--
“Here.” Pacey tosses her the sweatshirt before getting out of the car.
“What’s this for?” she says as she steps out the passenger side. “It’s so warm right now.”
“Yes, but inevitably the sun will go down and then you’ll make me go back for it. I thought I’d save myself the trip.”
Joey rolls her eyes. “Very considerate of you for you.” But she brings it along anyway because truth: she does get cold at night.
As they walk across the beach, he keeps subtly nudging her to the surf; continuously bumping his shoulder to hers. She pretends to be unaware, waits until he’s edged her close to the water, and then comes to a stop as he continues walking.
Joey watches as he decides to really lean into his next shoulder bump, realizing too late that she’s no longer beside him. She’s laughing uproariously when he stumbles into the water.
Already backing away as he regains his footing, Joey says, “Don’t you dare.”
“Let me think about this.” He tilts his head upward as if really thinking it through. “Yep, you’re going to pay for that.”
She holds out his sweatshirt to try and buy herself more time. “Just remember, this sweatshirt also suffers if you dunk me.”
“Well considering you’re the one that needs it today, I’m not too worried about that.”
She finally spots Jen in the crowd. “Valid point. Okay, see ya.” She leaves him running after her as she sprints the short distance to their friends.
“Hey guys,” she says, throwing a saccharine smile over her shoulder as Pacey pulls up behind her.
They both acknowledge the chorus of hellos and she darts over to join Jack at the folding table where he’s dumping various snacks into bowls. “Need some help?”
As she and Jack work to assemble the food and drinks, they trade war stories about finals. He’s describing his particularly heinous experience on the English exam when Andie’s voice cuts through. “Hey Joey, I got a job working at an SAT prep center this summer and I was wondering if you’d be interested.”
“Like a tutor?”
“Yeah,” Andie says enthusiastically. “We’d be molding minds. Making a difference.”
“Whoa,” Pacey says. “Molding minds? So there’ll be more obsessive type-A personalities running around Capeside telling everyone how they should live—"
Andie levels him with a look.
“Which I have benefited greatly from and so will they,” he finishes hastily, smiling innocently at her.
Nodding in satisfaction, she turns her attention back to Joey. “Are you interested? They’re looking for a few more people and it’ll look great on our transcripts.”
Joey shakes her head hesitantly. “Thanks, but I don’t know how good I’d be—”
Pacey interrupts again. “Yeah, slow your roll, McPhee. Isn’t it a disservice to society to let Jo near anyone… Well, just near anyone in general?”
“You’re already the biggest detriment to society so any damage I might cause would be negligible,” she says hotly. “You know what Andie, I’ll do it.”
Pacey smiles serenely in Joey’s direction and she has the faintest inkling that she’s been played.
“Alright, alright, enough shop talk,” Jen says, waving around the Solo cup in her hand. “We just finished our last exams days ago and it’s summer. Isn’t it time to celebrate?”
“Amen, sister friend,” says Andie. “Considering how much of a shit show the end of sophomore year was for me, this school year has practically been a walk in the park.” She smiles wryly to smooth out any potential awkwardness. “You know, minus the beginning. Seriously guys, couldn’t have done it without each of you.”
Pacey slings a reassuring arm over Andie’s shoulders and they share warm smiles.
“Andie’s right,” Jen says. “Not only have we learned to actually support one another, but we’ve also managed to keep the dysfunction to a minimum instead of resorting to spontaneous outbursts of anger. Guys, it’s like we’re friends.”
Everyone starts looking around at everybody else as the realization sinks in.
“Does this mean the end of days are upon us?” asks Pacey.
Jen ignores him “I think we should really test these ties that bind by embarking on a summer of fun. Beach days, day trips, maybe even tempt fate and hope we don’t kill each other during a weekend away. I know this behavior veers dangerously towards clique territory” —she pauses preemptively for groans— “but wouldn’t it be nice to make some good memories before we’re chained to our desks for another soul sucking year?”
Jack plops into the chair next to Jen. “O captain, my captain. Your truly inspiring words have nearly warmed this cold broken heart of mine.” He holds up his cup in solidarity. “Where you lead, I will follow.”
Andie happily chimes in. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with my hours at the center then I’m in.”
“Yeah, same here,” says Pacey. “I picked up a second job at the marina but I’ll always make time for fun in the sun.”
“A second job?” asks Dawson. “I thought it was your personal mission to keep the lightest schedule possible in the summer.”
Pacey sighs regretfully. “Still the ultimate dream, my man. But unfortunately, that’s not conducive to my goal of refinishing True Love before next summer. She’s in desperate need of rewiring and I was considering doing it by myself but the very real threat of electrocution makes me think I should leave it to a professional. Which means I need money.”
“Overshot the deadline by a bit, huh,” Dawson says, grinning. “Wasn’t True Love supposed to be seaworthy by this summer?”
It’s a fairly innocuous question but Joey’s still feeling prickly after Pacey’s admission last week so it’s enough. “Well,” she says icily, staring straight at Dawson. “Some of us actually have to work to earn the things we want which means things don’t always go according to plan.”
Silence—so quiet she can hear Jack mutter something about jinxes under his breath. She knows she’s done that thing again where she’s impetuously killed the conversation dead (does she get any brownie points that it was on someone else’s behalf this time?) but also begrudgingly recognizes that this particular maneuver has never served her well. She tries to course correct. “I mean, did you guys hear about what Belinda’s parents got her for just getting through junior year?”
“Oh yeah,” Jen says loudly, throwing her a lifeline. But not before giving her a significant look. “She was bragging about it the other day in the cafeteria. A Corvette to complete her dream of being Malibu Barbie . ”
“I thought she had just gotten a Jeep for her birthday?”
“Nah,” Jack says. “Crashed that one a week ago.”
“And her parents rewarded her with a new car?”
As the others carry on the conversation, Pacey sidles up to Joey as she pours herself a drink. “You might want to tone it down, Cujo. The backup is appreciated but I feel like it’s my duty to tell you that you’re coming off a bit deranged. You know, since neither of us are actively fighting with Dawson right now.”
He casually stares back when she glares at him. After a minute, he raises an eyebrow to ask if she’s ready to concede which only serves in steeling her resolve. But just a few seconds later, she hears a shout in the distance and shifts her eyes to locate the source. “Dammit!”
He grins and taps her nose with his finger. “Eyes on the prize, Potter.”
She rolls her eyes. “Whatever. I’ll play nice.” And proceeds to dump vodka into her orange juice.
--
“Hey, Jo?” Dawson tentatively approaches her as she’s sitting in a beach chair by the bonfire.
“Hey,” she says, a touch wary. She’s been giving him a wide berth after her outburst and now that the evening was winding down, she thought their only meaningful interaction tonight would be from the periphery of conversations with the others. She gestures toward the empty seat next to her. “Have a seat.”
When he’s situated, Joey clinks her cup to his and he laughs after they both drink a healthy amount from their respective cups. “So…” he starts. She prepares herself for the ensuing fight. “Are we okay? I thought we were on relatively solid ground after clearing the air last week but… it seems like something has shifted tonight and I have no idea what I did.”
“No, I mean yes, we’re okay,” she says, fumbling her words in surprise. As the night wore on, she’s had time—and yes, multiple drinks—to realize this wasn’t her fight. She serves up a weak excuse instead. “Things at the B&B have really picked up for the summer which is obviously a good thing. But I’ve also been catering to the whims of guests all week and you know me…” she says, trailing off lamely. “I’m not very nice when I’m stressed.”
“Oh, well if you guys need help—”
“Thanks, but we’ll be fine,” she says quickly. “Besides, I know you’re busy helping your parents prepare for their wedding. How’s that going?”
“Well I’m only in charge of the best man speech so my participation has been pretty limited so far. Though I did catch them going at it on the coffee table yesterday. I’d say we’re almost back to status quo at the Leery house.”
Joey grins and grimaces at the same time. “Remember the first time we caught them? I think we were nine?”
“I think the worst had to be when we were thirteen? When they thought we were ready for the sex talk?”
“Yeah… though your mom was not ready to give it. She got so embarrassed trying to explain an orgasm that she gave up five minutes in and took me to get ice cream.”
He groans. “I wish my dad had the same mortifications. We had to sit through a thirty-minute demonstration about erogenous zones because Pacey asked him about foreplay.”
She bursts out laughing. “Do you remember when we found that note from your mom and when your dad came home, Pacey asked him why his nickname was Mr. Big?”
“Oh God, I had blocked that out.”
“I love your parents but I don’t think it’s normal that—” she cuts off when she notices Pacey standing in front of their chairs. “Hey,” she says, shifting her head to look at him, her smile stretching from ear to ear.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt but I wanted to see if you guys are ready to go,” Pacey says. “We finished packing up everything.”
“Yeah, I’m ready.” Joey extends her hand out, looking at Pacey expectantly. Rolling his eyes, he grasps it with his own to pull her up and she takes advantage of the momentum, shoving him hard with her other hand when she’s upright. She innocently pats his chest as if to assess the damage. “Oops, didn’t mean to do that.”
“Uh huh. You’re just asking me to drag you into the water at this point, Potter.”
She’s wobbly enough from the alcohol to know she’s got no chance this time. “Truce! I call a truce!”
He looks at her skeptically. “Giving in so quickly? How much did you drink tonight?”
“Watch it or I’m going to make you carry me up the porch.”
“Alright,” he says, making a grab at the sweatshirt she’s wearing. “You don’t deserve to wear this."
“No, Pace—” Joey’s laughing as she bats his hand away and they grapple for a bit before he ends up clutching both her wrists to prevent further damage.
Dawson’s shoe clanks against the chair as he gets up and they both turn to face him, identical grins on their faces. He’s got a funny look as he stares back at them.
“Dawson,” Pacey says. “You alright, man?”
“Yeah,” he says, but the look remains. “I’m okay.”
“Okay.” Pacey stretches out the word and he finally drops Joey’s hands. “Need help bringing these chairs to your car?”
“No, I got it.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Dawson says, finally giving him a small smile. “This is easy. You guys did most of the work already.”
They’re all silently staring at one another and the moment starts veering toward awkwardness. Pacey clears his throat. “Alright then. We’re going to head out. See ya, Dawson.”
“See ya, Dawson.” Joey gives him a wave with a flick of her wrist. “Maybe we should have a movie night soon.”
“Sounds good,” he says and then he’s left standing behind, watching as Pacey and Joey shout out salutations and jeers to the others before walking away; their silhouettes growing smaller in the distance.
--
She and AJ call it quits a couple days later. They had been trying to work out the kinks to their summer plans for weeks now when it hit her. She didn’t particularly care about seeing him. In fact, between the increasingly sporadic phone calls and the lengthy emails she perfunctory reads, she thinks she’d be fine never even talking to him again.
When she breaks up with him over the phone, he condescendingly tells her that compromise is part of any adult relationship and she’d learn that with time. Joey cannot hang up fast enough. She only has room for one sanctimonious prick in her life and Dawson had gotten there first.
And afterward, of course it’s Pacey’s voice echoing in her head. That’s why long distance relationships are perfect for you. They’re not real. What kind of world was she living in where Pacey knew something she couldn’t figure out for months?
She resolves to hide the break up from him—because she really doesn’t want to see that very specific I-told-you-so-Jo face he’s perfected—but that’s harder to achieve in actuality when their entire social circle can be counted on one hand. He finds out in a matter of a day.
When she opens her front door, he’s wearing that damn expression she didn’t want to see. But he’s also holding a carton of ice cream in one hand and a package of Oreos in the other so she begrudgingly steps aside.
They spend the night curled up on her bed watching movies. Halfway through the double feature, Joey looks over at him to deliver a particularly derisive comment and finds him dead asleep. He’s been getting up at six every day for work and her face softens as she continues staring at him, touched that he still came over to cheer her up. And for that reason alone, she valiantly fights the urge to draw on his face.
But the altruism is short-lived.
As Joey's very delicately filling in the mustache she’s drawn, she thinks about how much has changed for it to feel normal that Pacey is asleep on her bed right now. Sure, they still blow up at each other constantly; but without fail, he’s waiting in her driveway the next morning. Or she shows up at the boatyard, sanding block in hand.
Then she thinks about how she often went weeks without seeing AJ while they were dating; but at best, she can’t seem to go two days without Pacey showing up. She thinks about all the times she’s felt twinges of something when she’s with him; the number of times she’s stopped herself from acting on it; and holy shit, it’s such a regular occurrence that she’s lost count.
Because it’s also Pacey. The boy who threw dirt at her when they were six, pushed her into the creek when they were nine, called her a prude and kissed her at fifteen, ignored her for months before pulling her out of a burning building at sixteen, and then... and then. Became the first person she called for just about anything.
So this time, she doesn’t stop herself. Just leans over to kiss him hard on the mouth, marker mustache and all.
And when he wakes up with a start, he rewards her with a forehead to the nose.
“Ow!” Her hand immediately goes to her nose.
“Jo," he says, his voice foggy with sleep, his eyes darting wildly around her face. He starts to sit up and raises a hand to inspect the damage to his head. “Did you just kiss me?”
“Well, I was trying,” she gripes. She’s still rubbing the bridge of her nose when she mutters, “I always knew you were hard headed.”
“Jo,” he says, his voice holding a little more gravitas this time.
“What?” she says irritably, but lacking any real heat. It’s dawning on her the gravity of what she's just done.
He moves to cup her face with his left hand. Using his thumb to rub at the corner of her mouth, he says gently, “Why did you kiss me just now? And why do you have marker on your face?"
“Oh.” Joey smiles sheepishly. “I uh—I made some improvements to your face while you were sleeping.”
Pacey rolls his eyes at her admission. “You sure you just finished junior year a few days ago?”
She shakes her shoulders a bit and tries to distract him with what they do best. “Watch who you’re talking to. I know you’ve got the attention span of a flea but you did notice that I devoted most of the year to making sure you passed, right?"
She watches the corner of his mouth quirk upward as she speaks. But then the half-smile vanishes and she can tell he’s gearing up for a Very. Serious. Talk. The mustache moves when he opens his mouth and suddenly, Joey can’t stop giggling. “I’m sorry,” she says, her body shaking with mirth. He’s never been more attractive to her than in this moment; with smeared marker and confusion lining his face. She thinks she would kiss him again if she could just stop laughing. “I can’t take you seriously with your face looking like that.”
Pacey glares at her a little and exhales an irritated sigh before scooting off the bed, quickly walking to the bathroom.
Joey’s guiltily recapping the marker when he reappears in her doorway; the skin around his mouth pinker than the rest of his face. “A handlebar mustache,” he says, stomping toward her. “That was the best you could come up with?”
“Hey, you try—”
And then he’s kissing her; kissing her like this isn’t some spur of the moment idea but a thing he’s been thinking about for a while. She tugs and tugs at his arm until he artlessly falls on top of her, wincing when his elbow digs into her side.
“Josephine.” He kisses down her neck between his words. “You are the most graceful person to ever walk the earth.”
‘Pacey,” she murmurs, drawing his mouth back to hers. “Kindly shut up.”
They spend the next few minutes groping each other in silence. Her mind blissfully blank as his hand roams below her shoulder—fingering the skin beneath her tank top strap, tracing down to her hips, outlining her butt, and up again. And then it's her frantically reaching below his shirt, fingers sliding up his back before she feels him abruptly go still.
“Wait, Jo. Wait,” he says, sitting up to put a little distance between them. “Seriously, we should use some of those words you’re so fond of. You just broke up with college guy yesterday. Why are you kissing me now?”
“Well technically, if we’re being pedantic, you just kissed me—” she stops short at the look on his face. And then shuts up completely because she has absolutely no more significant words to offer him right now.
But that doesn’t mean she’s off the hook. Pacey keeps staring at her, looking perfectly content to sit here and wait her out. And the longer the silence drags on, the more her frustration flares in the wake of his cool and collected demeanor.
“Stop looking at me,” she grouses, breaking eye contact.
“Well you just lost. So answer my question.”
“Well it’s a stupid question. Okay, I kissed you first but you kissed me back! Why are you pushing me to figure out what that means?”
He gives her a humorless smirk. “You’re a smart girl, Jo. You really need me to spell it out for you?” At this, she narrows her eyes. Which makes him narrow his eyes at her. “Okay, fine. I’m asking you what this means because everyone, including you, already knows how I feel. Even if you won’t admit it.” She ducks her head and he stops talking until she's looking at him again. "You kissing me tonight is pretty much the best thing that’s happened since I discovered people think I look like the guy in Mighty Ducks. Which means they willingly give me free stuff,” he says nonsensically. “Weird side note, but I’m oddly proud of that. Did you know—”
“Pace,” she says softly.
“Right. Sorry.” He takes a deep breath. “I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time now and even though most of the time you drive me insane, you’re also kind of my favorite person. All the time.” Pacey rubs his face and groans a little. “And I just… I don’t want to do anything that could potentially mess that up.”
Joey just fucking melts at this half-assed romantic overture. And that’s when she gets it. They can insult each other and prod at each other but they have also always understood each other. She can just be with him and he acts like that’s the best thing ever. And though she’d never tell him (can’t even fathom giving him that much ammunition), just being himself is the best thing he could do for her too.
Because he tries, he tries so fucking hard despite what his family says, tries to be a good person and he is. He’s one of the best people she knows and he’s so good to her and for her and she wants to be the same to him. Whatever happens next, she wants to face it with him.
This time, Pacey looks away first. And it’s Joey’s turn to give in. “To be honest, I’ve never thought wow, that Charlie Conway is a real looker. So I can’t say I’m too impressed with your passing resemblance.”
He dejectedly shrugs a shoulder, looking a bit downcast. “You though, you’ve been there for me all year with your stupid quips and idiotic notions about how I’m this person capable of painting an entire fucking wall. And ever since then—” she stops mid-sentence, wanting to get this right. “Well ever since then, I’ve been holding on to this very flimsy list of reasons of why we couldn’t be together. Mostly because I will take any chance to avoid being brave. But seeing as how I pretty much blew up my last credible excuse yesterday... if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to continue making out for the foreseeable future and—” she sighs heavily as if she’s making a huge concession. “I guess if we sometimes talk in between, that would be okay too.”
Joey hooks her arms around his neck as she leans in to kiss him and he immediately responds in kind as he drags her into his lap, his mouth covering up her undignified squeal.
He pulls away for air. “Yeah?” he says, looking both hopeful and a little fearful.
She grins back at him. “Yeah.”
Pacey looks at her in fond exasperation. “It was the mustache wasn’t it? You realized how good I could look with facial hair and you couldn’t resist.” Her slight pause seems to raise his suspicions and he looks downright giddy. “Are you serious?” he asks, a shit-eating grin on his face. “That’s what got you going?”
“Not in the way you’re thinking!” Pacey starts tickling her and she struggles to push herself free. She ends up lying with her back on the bed as he props himself on his elbow beside her. “I take it back, asshole. Go find someone who can stand you.”
“Oh, I think you more than can stand me.” He hasn't stopped smiling this entire time. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s not good to start off a relationship with lies?”
“Seems like a moot point since I’ve already made it clear I take it all back.”
“Uh huh, okay,” he says, murmuring the words against her mouth. “Crystal clear.”
Pacey pulls away again after a few minutes and she noisily makes her displeasure known at the loss of contact.
“But seriously.” His somber manner instantly puts her on high alert. “Do you think I should grow a mustache?”
This. Asshole. But she also adores him to pieces so she decides to play along. Joey leans back on her elbows, tilts her head from side to side to critically examine his face. “I think the real question is, can you grow a mustache?”
“Oh Josephine.” He smiles big as his eyes light up. “This is going to be so much fun.” Then proceeds to spend the next ten minutes trying to draw on her face with a marker.