After watching this premiere, I couldn't decided if I liked it or not, which is not a good thing. I'd rather have a distinct opinion one way or another than feel completely indifferent. There were good things about it and bad things about it, too, so in the spirit of David Letterman, I thought I'd begin this episode summary with a Top 5 list of what sucked and what was cool, in no particular order ...
What Sucked:
5. No Group Interaction. One of the things I used to love best about this show was the big ensemble scenes where all the characters would bounce off each other. I had high hopes the writers would bring that back this season, but apparently not, or, at least not yet. All these characters are supposed to be the best of friends with each other, yet they can only manage to speak to each other one at a time.
4. Lack of Realism. Ya know, I wish I'd lived in Capeside when I was 16. Not only are most adults there stupid enough to serve teenagers alcohol in jazz clubs and rent them rooms in Bed & Breakfasts, but now, the town's grown-ups are apparently lettin' them youngsters into strip clubs -- not to mention hiring teen vixens to waitress there. As if!
3. The Big Blow Off. All summer long, we heard about this racy, controversial scene between Dawson and Eve on his father's speedboat, but when it came right down to it all we were left with was a flaccid (pun intended), ambiguous depiction of a non-event which left viewers scratching their heads and saying "That was it?"
2. Movie Cliches. Why is it when DC mirrored The Breakfast Club in Season One, it was fantastic (actually, my favourite episode ever), but when it duplicated Risky Business it was pointless, irritating and stereotypical? (with the exception of Pacey's little speech, but incidentally, that was lifted from Field of Dreams.)
1. Eve. Do I even have to explain?
What Was Cool:
5. New Opening Credits. About time Jack and Andie got the recognition they deserved.
4. Inside Jokes. That cheerleader at the tryout singing "I Don't Wanna Wait"? Classic! Nice to see the writers poke fun at themselves.
3. Jack and Jen. How refreshing ... a guy-girl relationship in Capeside which isn't fraught with undercurrents of sexual tension (except in one of my future fan fics ;p ).
2. Dawson Finally Grows a Backbone. After Joey putting him through the wringer repeatedly last season, at last young Mr. Leery develops the gonads to put Miss Potter firmly in her place, even going so far as to rebuke her efforts at impersonating a stripper.
1. Pacey and Joey. I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but that closing scene was so bittersweet, so gently humourous and so nostalgic that deep down, I was shocked to find myself -- the most diehard Dawson and Joey fan on the planet -- secretly rooting for these two to get together!
"You're drooling," Eve notes. "On your chin. Saliva from sleep." Dawson brushes his mouth with his hand. "Did you know that you're a very heavy breather?" she comments wryly. "No," he stammers. "Ah, a stimulating conversationalist, just my luck," Eve smiles, then peers down at his groin. "What's on your lap?" Dawson gapes at her incredulously. Eve giggles. "Not that. The movie, what are you watching?" "Oh," he replies, mightily relieved that they've steered the conversation back to familiar territory. "Um, Risky Business." "The one with Tom Cruise?" Eve asks. (No ... the one with Tom Hanks, you stupid slut.)
Dawson nods, adding that Rebecca DeMornay co-starred, but that isn't enough for Eve. "The one where they do it on the train," she continues, watching him closely. "And it's unbelievably sweet and believable, even though he's a virgin and she's a battle-scarred hooker who's done it with hundreds of men." (Foreshadowing cliche? What foreshadowing cliche?)
Whether through intentional oversight or innocent naivete, Dawson ignores her not-so-subtle allusions. "It's more of a myth," he explains. "Joseph Campbell meets Sigmund Freud meets Holden Caulfield. A teenage boy passes into manhood with a sexual encounter with a beautiful woman who's essentially a fantasy character of his own creation."
Just as Eve's blatant come-on goes over Dawson's head, his cinematic psychobabble soars over hers. "You're adorable," she gushes. "What's your name?" He tells her, and they shake hands, with Dawson pulling away first. "You all right?" he asks. Eve returns his concern with cool aloofness. "My father taught me, always when shaking hands make sure the other guy pulls away first. It's a powerful advantage in all human intercourse." (Hmph ... figures she'd choose that word, doesn't it?)
"Actually, I meant your skin," Dawson says. "Do you have a fever or something?" "No," Eve purrs. "It's just me. It's my temperature ... I run a few degrees hot." (Okay, just in case it was unclear earlier, can I just say I despise this girl? Cross Abby Morgan with beginning-of-Season-One Jen Lindley, multiply by about ten thousand, and throw in a few Amanda Woodwards (Melrose Place, R.I.P) for good measure, and you don't even come CLOSE.)
Dawson looks a bit taken aback, which Eve interprets as a sign of involvement with someone else as opposed to non-interest. After all, there's no way he could just plain not be attracted to her, right? If he's not panting in heat, Eve figures he must be part of another couple. "So," she smirks, eyebrow cocked. "When are you going to tell me about your girlfriend?"
Back in Capeside, Joey has found a job pumping gas at Logan's Marina after the untimely demise of the Ice House. She's in the middle of putting a nozzle back in a pump when Rob, her bratty rich-boy boss (and future love interest, I'd wager), approaches. "I'll take it from here, Potter," he announces. "You said you'd be here by eight o'clock," she sneers, in that inimitable Joey way we all know and love.
Rob smiles sarcastically. "Aw, isn't that sweet? Little girl is nervous about missing the first day of school." He sighs. "Ah, the salad days ... I remember them well." If looks could kill, Rob would be sleeping with the fishes. "Spare me the Shakespeare, Rob," she retorts, adding that her last class ends at two-thirty and she should be back by three.
Others, too, are prepping for the beginning of classes. At the Ryans', Jack and Jen are preparing breakfast. Jack catches a pair of waffles as they pop out of the toaster and deposits them on a plate, which Jen grabs and puts on the kitchen table along with a duplicate plate with two more waffles. Just as she places two glasses beside the plates, Jack appears with milk and simultaneously fills them up. The whole operation is executed with the precision of a Swiss army, much to the amusement of Grams, who watches the (non) couple eat. "What?" they ask her in unison. Grams chuckles. "And how long have you two been married?" Jack and Jen smile at each other sheepishly, then begin giggling.
Moving from the Ryans' kitchen to the Leerys' kitchen, we find Pacey and Dawson mulling over the events of the previous evening. "And what happened when you woke up?" Pacey probes. Dawson shrugs. "She morphed into pure oxygen air and just ... vanished." "I hate it when that happens," Pacey smiles.
"It was the weirdest night," Dawson continues. "She was, like, the perfect girl and one minute she's sitting right next to me and the next, she's gone." Pacey nods empathetically. "You know, usually when I have moments like that happen, I have to change the sheets afterwards." (thanks for sharing!)
Dawson insists Miss Mystery Girl wasn't real (huh?), so Pacey takes it upon himself to inquire after the one that is real. After a moment's hesitation, Dawson sighs. "What about her?" "Well," Pacey begins, "Today is the day. Dawson Leery and Joey Potter have been apart for months now, in fact, the whole summer has passed and the whole world is waiting to figure out what's going to happen." (Now, now Pacey ... not the whole world ... after all, DC isn't currently on-air in Asia, Africa and parts of Europe!)
"Maybe you and the whole world haven't heard me the last 50,000 times that I've said that it's over," Dawson growls. "Yeah," Pacey says sarcastically. "Until she speaks to you." "She won't." Dawson is adamant. Pacey scoffs. "I think you underestimate the healing powers of time, Dawson. Time for Joey to forgive and forget." Dawson shakes his head. "Even if Joey came up to me today and said I forgive and I forget, I wouldn't. I can't forget that this past year has been a hellish nightmare. I spent it verbalizing and angsting instead of living. I need to just learn how to exist, and question things later."
Pacey is duly impressed with Dawson's candor. "Ladies and gentlemen, Capesidians of all ages ... new and fresh from Philadelphia ... Dawson Leery! Now, just to play Devil's advocate here, let's say you go to school today and Joey comes up and starts apologizing. She does that cute little hair-flip thing she does, and locks those truly remarkable brown eyes of hers on you ... what do you do?"
"I'll tell her that it's over," he insists. "That it's been over and that we're better off without each other." Just then, Mitch enters the kitchen and announces his departure for a coaching conference. "Coaching conference?" Pacey echoes. "What? You haven't heard yet?" Dawson says smugly. "Substitute Mitch is Capeside High's new varsity football coach."
Again, Pacey is duly impressed. "Well, congratulations, Mr. Leery. How are our trusted Minutemen doing? What's the streak now ... 0-and-38?" Dawson stifles a grin. Mitch shakes his head sadly. "Pacey, you have little faith. I can assure you as a former Minuteman myself that this season will be a winning one."
Dawson says goodbye to Mitch's departing frame, and yet again, Pacey is duly impressed. "Wait ... you're just going to walk out like that?" he calls after Mitch. "No father/son warning ... no rules and regulations ... no impending doom should your sainted son misbehave?" Mitch pauses in the doorway and nods towards Dawson. "Good idea. Keep Pacey out of the house." With a final wink at his son, he leaves.
Cut to the Junior Class assembly at school, where Jen and Jack are sitting together. (wait a sec ... I thought Jack was a year older than the rest of the gang?) He tells her if he starts to fall asleep not to wake him, but there's no worry of that happening with the noisy arrival of the Sis-Boom-Bah squadron, Capeside High's own Minutegirl cheerleaders. (Okay, question ... how come the football team are called the MinuteMEN but the cheerleaders are called the MinuteGIRLS, hmmm? Sounds a little bit sexist to me, but then again, so does the whole concept of cheerleading in general ...)
Head cheerleader Belinda spies Jen minding her own business and hones in for the kill. What starts out as an innocent "How was your summer?" winds up with a vicious "Host any, you know, gang bangs?" To her credit, Jen has an equally vicious reply: "I have a really scathing comeback right now but I'm thinking that I should show you a little sympathy, seeing as the lipo(suction) didn't take." Belinda departs in a huff, her henchwenches in tow, as Jack and Jen chuckle.
A few rows down in the auditorium, Dawson and Pacey are sitting together. (See, this is my point! This would be the perfect opportunity for Jen and Jack and Dawson and Pacey to all sit together and have some group interaction going on, but no, the writers want to keep things in compact compartments of no more than two characters per plotline.) Pacey is scoping out the crowd for random sightings of Joey. "She should be here any minute. It's the junior assembly, she has to come." Dawson sighs. "Pacey, that's enough, all right?"
At the podium, the school's new principal begins his introductory speech. "Hello, I'm Principal Green. Like you, when I was a junior, I had a new principal and on our first day back he stood before us and told us some earnest and touching words. Words that were to usher us into what he called 'one of the best years of our lives.' He pauses, looking around. "This is not that speech. We're living in a different time. You children are thinking like people twice your age ..."
Just then, Joey enters quietly and sits by herself, but not before Pacey spots her. While the principal continues to speak, Pacey whispers the results of his covert espionage to Dawson. "She just walked in. She's right back there, right over your shoulder." "Pacey ..." Dawson admonishes.
Just as Pacey spies Joey's entrance, his antics don't go unnoticed by the new commander-in-chief. "For example, like that gentlemen in the fifth row who's talking ..." Principal Green states. The assembled masses turn and stare at Pacey, who points at his chest. "Me?"
The principal nods and asks him to stand. "Well, that didn't take very long," Pacey mutters as he gets up. When Principal Green asks him what his name is, he replies, "I don't suppose you'd accept Che Gueverra, would you?" to a sea of laughter, then introduces himelf properly.
"Mr. Witter," Principal Green peers at him warmly. "Mr. Witter, I'd like to applaud you for being the first student I've met at Capeside who actually acts like one. I hope that someday you all will act as one. Reclaim your youth. Live ... learn ... screw up. I applaud you, Mr. Witter."
Much to his utter amazement, Pacey grins from ear to ear after not receiving the tongue-lashing he'd anticipated. His classmates cheer, and he even takes a little bow before sitting down, but not before Principal Green has a final comment for him: "Oh, and I'll see you on Saturday ... in detention."
Some time after the assembly, various school clubs and organizations are holding registration in Capeside High's hallways. Head pom-pom princess Belinda sizes up one of the poor souls signing up for cheerleading try-outs. "Sally, who are we kidding? Lay off the hot dogs and try Four-H. That's where they're looking for the prize hogs." Dejected, Sally leaves the table as Belinda addresses her fellow cheerleaders. "She only came over here in the first place because somebody made one too many Krispy Kreme pit-stops over the summer," she sneers.
Jack and Jen watch the scene unfold from across the hall. "Now I know how anthropologists feel when they stumble across one of those lost tribes whose ancient rituals have remained untouched by time," Jen tells him, disgusted. Jack frowns. "What I don't get, is why anyone wants to be a cheerleader in the first place." His comment lights a bulb in Jen's brain. "There's only one way to find out," she tells him with a gleam in her eye, and strides purposefully towards the registration table where she defiantly signs her name to the try-out list.
Belinda is suitably mortified. "Um, Jen? What are you doing?" "Signing up for try-outs," she replies coolly. Belinda snorts contemptuously. "Lemme think about that ... not!" "You sure, Belinda?" Jen smiles at her mockingly. "Haven't you ever wondered if I've got what it takes to hold the pom-poms?" Belinda returns the false joviality. "Okay, Lindley, you're on. Tomorrow at three. Be prompt." "Will do," Jen smirks.
Down the hall, Pacey and Dawson are discussing the assembly. "Principal Green seems cool. Good sense of humor. He was joking about that whole see you Saturday stuff, right?" Pacey asks hopefully. "I'm not sure, Pace," Dawson smiles. "He seemed rather --" Dawson stops in mid-sentence as he sees Joey across the hallway.
"Dawson?" Pacey inquires, waiting. "Dawson? Was there supposed to be a second part to that sentence?" Dawson's face is stone. "You were right. I'm gonna break. I'm gonna crumble. Joey Potter at three o'clock," he sighs. Pacey glaces over and sees Joey, who hasn't yet spotted the dynamic duo.
"Get me out of here ... anywhere," Dawson pleads. "Anywhere?" Pacey asks. Dawson nods. "Someplace Joey Potter'll never find me." Pacey slaps a hand on his friend's back and smiles. "Well, for a mere $25, young sir, I think I have just the place." They briskly walk down the hall, in the opposite direction from Joey just as she casually looks around and happens to see their retreating backs.
Later that evening, Bessie is finishing up her dinner as Joey enters their home. "Hey, Jo," Bessie smiles. "No, I'm not Joey," her younger sister replies wearily. "I'm just the shell of her exhausted remains. I swear Bessie, if I have to work another hour for that nimrod of a boss --" "It's just that until the insurance money comes through," Bessie soothes. "Then we'll have enough for a sitter and I'll get a job." Joey smiles wanly. "No speech required. I remember the bargain, if you can call it that." She sits at the dinner table.
"So?" Bessie begins excitedly, after a few moments of silence. "Tell me everything." "We got a new principal," Joey says flatly. "Not about school," the older Potter corrects. "About Dawson. What was it like seeing him again?" Joey can see her sister is eagerly waiting for her to recount the tale of reuniting with Dawson again after oh-so-many months, so she does the only thing she can do in a situation like this ... she lies.
"It was great." Bessie glows, waiting for more. "So, what'd he say? Come on, Joey! I spend most of my conversations with a teething baby ... your sister could use a little vicarious pleasure." (It's called Daytime TV ... turn on the tube, Bess!)
Joey looks uneasy for a moment, but begins to pick up momentum as she speaks. "Well, he, um ... he looked at me and I looked at him and ... and in that split second, it was like we forgave each other for everything. And then, of course, we talked about it until we were blue in the face, just like old times." "I'm glad, Jo," Bessie smiles softly. "You two are meant for each other. If I'm sure of anything, that's it." "Yeah," Joey sighs miserably to herself.
You know, Dawson's Creek has had some ridiculous scenes in its 30-odd episode run (Ty Hicks' brief but terrifying stint as a Billy Joelesque "Piano Man" at the Jazz Club, anyone?), but in my never-humble opinion, the following scene really took the cake ... er, paste-on tassles 'n' wig ... er, um ... just keep readin', will ya?
Cut to: A loud nightclub-style room with plenty of flashing lights, loud music, and scantily-clad babes. Wait, make that scantily-unclad babes. Yes, welcome to Capeside's finest strip club. And better yet, sitting front and centre amid all the action are our favourite pair of wide-eyed, slack-jawed 16-year-olds, Pacey Witter and Dawson Leery. "I think I'm having a religious experience," Dawson whispers as he takes it all in.
Now, forget the fact that it's utterly preposterous that the two of them are mere babes (I mean that in the "not old" sense of the word, not the "too hot for words" variation) and yet have still somehow managed to worm their way into a mostly-empty peeler bar. That does happen -- underage people get into all sorts of places they aren't meant to be in all the time. But, see, it usually happens one of two ways: fake I.D., or a face that belies one's age.
Pacey, I'd be willing to wager, has probably had a fake I.D. since before he started puberty, but Dawson? No way. Especially after kvetching on the Dawson's Desktop all summer about how he couldn't really explore any nightlife with his new friends from Philly because he didn't have any way of gettng into any clubs, bars and pubs.
So, that leaves option two: looking old enough that you don't need I.D. Take a good look at these two puppies. Do they look 21 to you? (Okay, okay I know Josh Jackson and James Van Der Beek are 21 and 23 respectively, but that isn't the point, the point is their characters don't look this old!) Moreover, it would be widely known in such a little town that Pacey is Sheriff Witter's son, would it not? I mean, if you were a strip club owner, would you let the teenage son of the town Sheriff into your club, serve him alcohol, and let him oggle half-naked women all night long? I don't think so.
Then again, maybe the owner didn't let him in -- maybe some big, dumb, jock-type bouncer did, who was so consumed with collecting a cover charge that he would have let the Olsen Twins in, if they had had the correct change. Either way, the show's writers have obviously been, to coin a phrase from one of my favourite movies, eating retard sandwiches again, to put Dawson and Pacey in such an unbelievable, ludicrious and contrived environment in the first place ... thank you, good night, and some assistance, please, as I climb off my soap box (it's a long, long way down).
But, put in that environment they are and lapping it up, too. "That would be Wendy, who is a second year marine biology student at Woodshole," Pacey says, appraising the half-naked stripper writhing about on the stage in front of them. "How on earth do you know that?" Dawson marvels. "It's in her bio," Pacey tells him nonchalantly. "And according to this, she also likes small children, big men, snowboarding and the colour green."
"What can I get you gentlemen?" Pacey's recounting of Wendy's, er, assets is interrupted by a waitress wearing an obviously faux wig, a la Jackie Kennedy. "Well," Pacey begins, trying to dazzle her with one of his patented grins. "I will have a couple of beers and my friend here will have a tall glass of milk."
Dawson scowls as she leaves. Pacey chuckles softly. "You know, sitting here, something occurs to me, Dawson." "What?" Dawson replies flatly. "The meaning of life. Specifically, yours." His friend rolls his eyes and sighs. "Not another diatribe of my manhood, or lack thereof." "No, I'm serious here," Pacey insists. "I have just had a blinding vision about the purpose of your junior year." "You mean, besides massive and debilitated college anxiety?" "Yes," Pacey continues. "At some time during the course of this whole year you are going to get laid." (Appropriately enough, Garbage's "Sleep Together" is the music for this scene)
Dawson sniggers derisively. "Come on, man, it's in keeping with this whole new attitude thing you've got going," Pacey tells him. "You met that girl on the bus, didn't you?" "Yeah, and I put her to sleep talking about my ex-girlfriend," he replies dryly. "I think it's pretty safe to assume that I'm not going to be hearing from her anytime soon."
As if on cue (well, actually, it is on cue), the waitress returns with their drinks. After she serves Pacey his beer and Dawson his milk, she crouches down between the two friends and addresses Dawson. "You don't remember me, do you?" "Should I?" he replies, surprised. She grabs his hand and puts it on her neck. "Feel this." She smiles at him as his look of surprise is slowly replaced with one of recognition. "That's right," Eve says, standing up and pulling off her wig. "It's me." Pacey looks from Eve to Dawson and from Dawson to Eve in utter confusion, as Dawson grins like a 120 watt lightbulb.
The next afternoon, Dawson and Pacey are walking up Dawson's driveway to his house. (Amazing, isn't it, how the friendship between these two has suddenly rekindled due to the absence of female companionship in their lives?) Pacey applauds Dawson for completing yet another day of Joey-dodging, although he admits he is starting to question Dawson's commitment to living "la vida loca." (Groan ... God, I utterly despise that song / reference / video / person who remains nameless who is responsible for that phrase entering our collective vernacular this summer.)
"Why?" Dawson asks, mildly surprised. "Because I didn't talk to my ex?" "No, man!" Pacey admonishes him. "Because you didn't hook up with bus girl last night!" (Wait a minnit ... bus girl? After two encounters with her, one of which required him to sit next to her for hours at a time, trapped, Dawson never even bothered to find out Eve's name?)
"Number one, she was working. And you saw me give her my number, it's up to her to use it." (Okay, wait another minnit ... he gives the chick his phone number and doesn't think to get her frickin' name while doing so?? Gee, that's brilliant.)
"And if she does?" Pacey challenges him. "She won't," Dawson replies stubbornly. Pacey isn't too sure of that, but Dawson is insistant. "What is the likelihood of someone of that degree of life experience and sexual liberation to take an interest in someone who is having to take their PSATs?" The pair reach the Leery home as he finishes saying this, and Dawson opens the door to find ... none other than Eve herself, front and centre in his living room.
Pacey smiles devilishly. "Oh, I'd say about the chances of finding her in your living room." Dawson regards Eve, who is perched comfortably in an chair, watching the two of them with a devilish smile of her own. "Hey, Dawson." "Hi," our hero replies, a little flustered. "Um ... what did you ... um ... I-I'm sorry ... um, h-how did you ... um --" (Okay, more than a little flustered.)
Always cool-headed in a crisis situation, Pacey takes over. "This is excited teenage male for "'How did you get in?'" he tells Eve, who explains herself simply by saying she thought she'd surprise Dawson and take him up on his offer for a date. "It was hot outside and the door was open so I let myself in." (Uh-huh. It's called 'trespassing.')
"It's Capeside," Dawson stammers quietly. "We don't exactly lock up." "Hmm, interesting," Eve nods, arching an eyebrow. "What else don't you do?" Dawson might be clueless enough to let Eve's sexually suggestive teasing go soaring over his head, but Pacey is not. "Oooh ... I need to talk to you for a second," he tells his best friend and pulls him into the kitchen.
Once out of Eve's earshot, Pacey tells Dawson that normally, "at this point in the plot," the best friend exits stage left, leaving the brand-new Dawson Leery all alone with the mystery woman in his parentless house. Dawson laughs nervously. "This is a little too high in the too-good-to-be-true category."
"I understand." Pacey nods sagely; after all, he's been there before. "But as someone who's been there before, I'm telling you, all you need now is some separation. A little time to calm down, catch your breath, and realize that you are in complete control of this situation." "I am not in complete control," Dawson corrects.
"Oh, but you will be." Pacey grabs the keys to Mitch's speedboat and dangles them before Dawson like a carrot. "The boat." "What about it?" Dawson asks suspiciously. "I think you should take it out for a little spin," Pacey grins evilly, but Dawson will not hear of it. "Pacey, that's my dad's boat, 'dad' being the possesive in that sentence." Pacey thinks under the circumstances, daddy dearest would understand, and drops the keys into Dawson's hands.
At roughly the same time, cheerleading try-outs are going on in the Capeside High gym. Stacey, an eager but hopeless prospect, is giving it her all on stage to a cheer she made up to the tune of the ever-annoying "I Don't Wanna Wait" (which, incidentally, happens to be the Dawson's Creek theme song): "We don't want to wait for this game to be over, we want to root right now --"
The wannabe Paula Cole is cut short by the shrill sound of a horn. "Thank you," Belinda says curtly. "Next!" Embarrassed, Stacey tries to explain she didn't get to finish her cheer, but it falls on deaf ears. Belinda doesn't suffer what she appears to be a fool gently. "Um ... Stacey? Get a mitt and catch a clue. It's your third year trying out for the Minutegirls. Your waist line is thicker and your hairstyle is even more outdated. The only reason we even let you get this far is because we wanted to see what lame song you picked to cheer to." And with that, Belinda literally toots her own horn again as a humiliated Stacey exits stage left.
Jen's up next. Sitting with her new best girlfriend Jack, she stands as her name is called. "Are you sure you still want to do this?" Jack asks slowly. "Are you kidding me?" she replies with smug satisfaction. "Now more than ever." As Jen passes Belinda and her coven of fellow witches, who are passing judgment over the afternoon's proceedings, the head cheerleader can't resist tossing a zinger at our favourite NYC expatriat. "I'm sure you'll dazzle us, Jen," she purrs. "I mean, we all know how ... flexible ... you are."
On stage, Jen gives Belinda a look which could freeze the flow from Mt. St. Helen's as she steps up to the mike. She pauses a moment, collecting her thoughts, then begins to speak. "When you see Belinda and her clique in the hallway, you're desperately wishing you were walking with them, aren't you? You think that maybe if you were wearing the right shoes, sporting the latest hairstyle, and using the hottest shade of lip gloss, then maybe they'd toss a glance in your direction. Have you ever wondered why they force their narrow-minded views down our throats? Maybe it's because they have an inkling about what's in store for them after graduation."
She pauses for effect, as Belinda's face wrestles with a mixture of panic, fear and contempt. "Cut to 25 years from now when Belinda McGovern wakes up feeling empty. Maybe it's because her Dartmouth-educated, lawyer husband Ted has run off to Tijuana with her daughter's roomate from boarding school. Or maybe it's because the twins, Timmy and Tommy, call her by her first name and their live-in housekeeper Mom. Or maybe it's because of her two o'clock, five o'clock, seven o'clock and nine-fifteen showdown with her bottle of Prozac. Her life has become a domestic wasteland. Avoid this fate. Don't become another cookie cutter, blonde, size four, rah-rah-sis-bam-boom, mindless, soulless, spineless wench. Screw these auditions. Screw cheerleading. And screw Belinda McGovern."
Before we can see the reaction from Miss McGovern herself, the scene changes to a small storage shed at Logan's Marina, where Joey is getting into her work clothes. Boss-man Rob just happens to walk in on her when she's half-undressed. "Hey! I'm changing here!" she snaps at him. "I'm sorry," Rob says with mock-sincerity, casting a lingering, appraising look over her. "I didn't know you were back here. I wanted a Coke." To make it sound legit, he grabs a can from the fridge.
"You just happened to get thirsty right when I'm standing here half naked?" Joey fumes. Rob's gaze locks on her as he takes a sip of his drink. "I hadn't noticed that coincidence," he replies coolly. "You know what? I think I'm in the mood for a 7-Up instead." He removes a can of 7-Up from the fridge and takes a long swig. "I'll knock next time." Joey gives him the same type of glare Jen used on Belinda. "Next time, I'll lock the door."
Back at casa Leery, Dawson has taken Pacey's advice and gone for a boat cruise with Eve, who is mentally undressing him as he drives along. "What're you looking at?" he asks her uncomfortably. "You should take off your shirt," she says bluntly. Dawson's eyes grow wide, and he swallows. "Any particular reason?" Eve shrugs. "I'd like to see you with it off." Her request is met with total silence. "What's the matter, too brazen for you?"
"No," Dawson answers quickly, then sighs. "Yes. I mean ... sometimes I just think I was born in the wrong time. The wrong century, even," he confesses. But instead of being touched by his vulnerability and antiquated morals, Eve teases him about them. "What, tights and powder and a wig more your style? Or just club her over the head and drag her into the cave?"
"Well, the latter choice does have a certain appealing simplicity," Dawson says shyly. "I'm sorry. I guess, I'm a little nervous." "How come you're nervous?" she asks curiously. "The same reason you're not," he answers. "Oh, but I am." "You are?" he marvels. "Of course," she nods. "Listen, Dawson ... anything that's worth anything is scary or dangerous, in one way or another."
Dawson thinks that world view is fairly extreme, but Eve begs to differ. "Without fear, there would be no accomplishment. No testing of our limitations. No fun." He drinks in her words, clearly beguiled and bewitched by them. "Who are you and where do you come from?"
Eve smiles. "You said it yourself, Dawson ... I'm a fantasy of your own creation." She stands behind him very closely, wrapping her arms around him tightly. "I can feel your heart beating." "You can?" Dawson asks, surprised. Eve laughs. "It's going a million miles an hour. Slow down." "Huh?" "The boat." Dawson shifts gears and the boat slows down, which is just as well, because considering what's about to happen next, if they were going any faster, they probably wouldn't have made it.
"The problem with teenage sex is that it's something you 'do' ... it's something you 'get done.'" Eve postulates. "You're a virgin, aren't you, Dawson?" He smiles sheepishly. "What comes become virgin?" Eve moves from behind Dawson to directly in front of him. "Everything but." Predictably, Dawson is confused. "Everything but what?" Eve smiles. "That's what comes before."
Eve pulls Dawson into a kiss, which he briefly enjoys but then pulls away from because he can't see. Eve's solution to this little problem is to slowly start moving south down his body. "What.... What are you doing?" he gasps. Using Eve-logic, she counters with, "Well, if you're not going to take off your shirt --"
Next comes the single most ridiculous line the writers have ever come out with in the show's entire run. Dawson asks Eve, "What's your name?" What's your name? Let me get this straight -- Mr. Anal Retentive, Obsessive-Compulsive, Meticulously Organized, Control Freak Leery speaks to this blonde vixen at great length on a long bus ride (introducing himself, nonetheless) and telling her intimate details about his life (i.e. Joey), bumps into her at a strip club and gives her his phone number, then finds her in his house and takes her out for a little cruise, all the while carrying on sexually-laden conversations with her, and he never even bothers to find out her NAME??? Ridiculous. Utterly, totally, thoroughly ridiculous.
"Eve. You can call me Eve," the blonde one replies. Wait, what does that mean, he can "call" her Eve -- is that her real name, or is it her strip club moniker, or is it an alias she uses to lure unsuspecting young males to surrender their innocence, or what? No matter, though, because Dawson has fallen for it (and her) hook, line and proverbial sinker. "Eve," he repeats dumbly. "That's a Biblical name." (Yeah? So what's she gonna do next, whip out an apple and try to shove it down his throat?)
"I'll try and live up to it." And with that, Eve continues her journey South of the border, leaving it up to the viewer's imagination to figure out exactly where the exact destination of her little trip is, and whether or not she, um, cleared customs. (by the way, the official word from the show's producers is that she didn't.)
Regardless, the aftermath is still the same: Mitch's beautiful, powerful, shiny new speed boat has been totalled, on account of a blow job -- namely, Dawson doing a fine job of completely blowing it by crashing his father's craft into the pier at Logan's Marina.
Joey rushes out of the storage shed and over to the crash site with Rob in tow, probably unaware who the victim(s) are. "Oh my God! Are you all right?" "I ... I," A dazed Dawson looks up to discover Joey standing before him, horrified. "I think so." They stare at each other a moment, awkward and uncertain about what to say or do next. (Un)fortunately for them, their discomfort is broken by a throaty giggle as a certain pixie-like blonde pops up into view.
"Crashes are so intense," Eve enthuses, like a strung-out Barbie doll. Any sympathy Joey had for Dawson suddenly melts away, as Eve finds herself the a recipient of the same death stare that Rob received earlier on. Dawson glances uneasily between Betty and Veronica. "Joey, this is Eve ... Eve, this is Joey."
"And suddenly everything becomes clear." Joey mutters under her breath. Rob turns to her. "Wait a minute. You know this moron?" Joey shifts the death stare from Eve to Dawson. "I thought I did." She turns away sharply and walks back towards the storage shed.
A few minutes later, Rob is adding up the damages to the marina on a calculator. "Salvage charges, plus yard costs, plus carpentry and painting ... I'd say you're looking at three grand easy, provided none of the gaskets blew or engine mounts cracked as result of the collision." Dawson swallows hard. "Three ... thousand ... dollars? I should've gone down with the ship." "No argument here," Rob mutters.
Dawson walks away, finding Eve sitting on the dock. "Things could be worse," she smiles as he joins her. "Yeah, that's what they said to King Lear before he lost his mind and his daughter killed herself. Or was it the other way around?" Dawson says dejectedly. "Come on, Dawson," Eve soothes. "No one was hurt, and you'll never forget this day as long as you live." "That's what I'm afraid of," he sighs.
Eve tries the philosophical approach. "Everybody wants life to go smoothly. But the truth is, it's the mistakes that keep things interesting." Dawson, however, isn't in the mood for her look-at-the-bright-side mentality. "Another treacly truism and my sweet tooth is gonna start to ache," he scowls.
"Wait a second," Eve slowly realizes she is the source of Dawson's bad mood. "You're mad at me?" (As my favourite Friend Chandler Bing would say, "Yah-huuuh!") But as my not-so-favourite DC cast member Dawson does say, "It's just ... you made me crash --" (Wimp.) "Made you what? I didn't 'make' you do anything!" Eve interjects hotly.
Dawson ops for the feeling-sorry-for-himself option. "Maybe I'm just not ready, for any of this." "Ready?" Eve almost laughs at his assessment. "Dawson, I've known you for 48 hours but I think it's safe to say, you gotta stop living from the neck up." She begins to walk away, but he calls after her. "Don't go!" Eve turns, looking at him coldly. "You're going to have to do a lot better than that."
Dawson's brow frowns. "I'm thinking about something I read once ... that a man's character is his fate." Eve is non-plussed. "And?" "And this isn't me, Eve. I don't meet strange girls on a bus, or drive my father's boat without permission. Look what happens when I do ... unmitigated disaster." But Eve has no sympathy for his honesty or introspection. "Well that's too bad. Because this girl just wants to have fun." With that, she storms off.
The next day, we see Jen walking in the hall at school, slightly shell-shocked. Jack joins herm worried. "What's the matter, Jen? You look like your dog just died." "I don't have a dog," comes the dazed reply. "I know that," Jack smiles. "That's right, you know that," she echoes softly.
Jack looks at her oddly. "Jen?" he asks, full of concern. "What is it?" Just then, a jocky-type guy passes them in the hall, congratulating Jen as he walks by. "Who was that?" Jack asks, confused. Jen continues walking, in her own little world. "No clue. I'm going to have to leave school. Immediately." Jack's confusion escalates. "Why?"
A gaggle of giggling girls (try saying that ten times fast!) buzz around the pair as they keep walking down Capeside High's corridor. "The unthinkable has happened," Jen says vaguely, almost as if in a trance. Principal Green passes and interrupts her thoughts. "Good going, Ms. Lindley." She manages to smile weakly at him.
"What," Jack jokes. "You've become popular?" "Worse," she whispers. "Follow me." He accompanies her to her locker, where she begins rummaging for some hidden object. "It was a coup d'etat," Jen tells him flatly. "A mutiny. A slave revolt. Belinda McGovern has been excommunicated by her brainless bishops."
Poor Jack wasn't even this confused over his own sexuality. "Help me out here. I don't think I understand --" Jen thrusts a pair of pom poms in his face. "They're the golden ones. With the rhinestone-studded handles." "Don't tell me they made you a cheerleader?" he scoffs. "Oh, no ..." Jen replies sarcastically. "Thank God," Jack smiles in relief. "... they made me head cheerleader," she finishes dryly. Jack bursts into laughter and receives a pom pom in the face for his support.
Later that day over at the Potter home, Joey has come clean with her sister about what really went on when she first saw Dawson at school, and the subsequent sordid events. Bessie is confused. "But I thought you said --" "Forget what I said," Joey sighs. "I was lying, or at least, hoping for the best. The truth is, Dawson's been dodging me for the past two days."
Bessie doesn't believe it. "Dodging you? And then crashing Mitch's pride and joy? It's like one Dawson left for Philadelphia, and another one came back." "Yeah, his evil twin," Joey mutters. "Yet another chapter in the Joey Potter sob story. Penniless girl from the wrong side of the tracks copes with a felon for a father, a slave driver for a boss and a two-timing boyfriend ... okay, ex-boyfriend. I keep expecting them to put me on daytime TV between Ivory Snow commercials."
Bessie tells Joey she hasn't pitied herself all summer, so there's no reason to start now, but Joey's still crushed. "At least, he could've told me. Then I wouldn't feel like such a fool." "About the girl, you mean?" Bessie asks. Joey nods. "One look at her, and I knew. She's everything I'm not ... wild, confident, blonde ... I feel like a little kid, always the one getting left behind." Bess reminds her little sister of the time, not so long ago, where there was another certain blonde in the picture. "Yeah," Joey grumbles. "And look how well that turned out. Besides, it's different now."
Flip over to the Leery home, where Dawson and Pacey are coming up with ways to make the money needed to repair the boat and fix the marina. Well, Dawson is, anyway. Pacey has more important observations on his mind: "Look on the bright side -- at least her jaw didn't lock." (Charming. Is it just me, or is that a bit of a racy comment for a teen drama show? ... Ah. It's just me.)
"Remind me to start cracking jokes when your execution looms just hours away," Dawson hisses, then assesses the treasure he found while digging behind the cushions of the couch. "Two more nickels, a shoelace and a pair of sunglasses I lost two years ago. I now have a combined total of 42 dollars and 78 cents." He sighs. "Even if I sell my DVD player, I'm still close to 2,000 dollars short."
This amuses Pacey to no end ("Congratulations, Dawson. Next to Bill Clinton you will have paid more for a certain service than anyone I know."), but Dawson's not in the mood for jokes, reminding his best friend that if he doesn't come up with the money, he'll be paying with his life. The doorbell rings just then, revealing none other than Eve.
"Didn't think you'd see me again, did you?" she smiles. "Didn't know if I wanted to," Dawson replies curtly. "Well, I'll get outta your hair. I just wanted to bring you this," she says off-handedly, then passes him an envelope. "There's about four hundred dollars in there. It's a collection." "A collection?" Dawson echoes. She nods. "I told the girls at the club the story. They thought it was so cute, they took up a collection of last night's tips." "'Cute.'" Dawson sighs. "I'm now officially mortified."
"Never underestimate the kindess of strippers, Dawson," Pacey chides his best friend, then turns to Dawson's benefactor. "Lady Eve, on behalf of my luckless buddy here, we gladly accept this contribution." "No, we gladly don't," Dawson interjects. Eve is exasperated. "Why?" "Because," he replies. "It's your money and it's my problem." Eve admits she pushed him too far, too fast, but Dawson is adamant the crash was still his fault. "But I feel responsible for what happened. And I don't feel responsible that often. Just take the money," she urges him. "I can't," Dawson insists.
Pacey, who has been listening to this little exchange, tries on Dawson's newly-rescued sunglasses. Checking himself out in a mirror, an idea suddenly comes to him. "Hang on a second ... maybe these ladies don't have to give of their wallets. But if they could give their time and considerable talents --" "I like where you're going with this," Eve encourages him. "I don't," Dawson chimes in. Pacey's idea is simple: "We'll throw a party. Here. Tonight." Eve is delighted. "It's genius! You'll make the cash you need in two hours, tops!" Dawson, however, is horrified. "It's insane! I will not turn my house into a strip club! No way!"
In a send-up from Field of Dreams, Pacey explains the method behind his madness. "Teenage boys will come, Dawson ... they'll come for reasons they can't even fathom. They'll turn up in your driveway, not knowing for sure why they're doing it, and arrive at your door, innocent as children. 'Of course, we won't mind if you look around,' you'll say. 'It's only twenty dollars per person.' And they'll pass over money without even looking at it. For it is money they have and breasts they lack. No, Dawson, teenage boys will come ... they will most definitely come.
And come they do. Later that evening, Pacey is doing his best impersonation of a strip club manager outside the Leery home. Throngs of guys, all shapes and sizes, are lined up eagerly, $20 bills in hand, as Pacey addresses the crowd, a muscle-bound bouncer named Gino by his side. "Step right up gentlemen, with money in hand! For you are about to enter the Leery house of iniquity! Oh, and gentlemen, Gino here has strict orders to break any part of your body that touches the ladies, understand? All right, get up there!"
Inside, Dawson's Norman Rockwellesque home has been transformed into the ultimate peeler bar (of course, this being a teen TV show, no actual "peeling" is going on), with loud music, flashing lights, and wall-to-wall bodies everywhere. Oh, and did I mention the dancers? On top of the coffee table, the stair case, the living room table ... all dressed in fluorescent bikinis and gyrating madly to the beat.
Dawson forges a path through the melee, gaping at the women and the boys as if they were some sort of sideshow carny. Eve approaches him, happily fanning out a massive wad of bills. "At the rate we're going, we'll have something left over for Jerry's Kids!" she exclaims. Predictably, Dawson is hesitant. "There's something so not right about this ..." he begins, only to be cut off by a random guy who careens into their path and clutches at Eve. "This is so freakin' awesome!" he hoots, before stumbling off down the hall.
Dawson decides he's had quite enough of the Best Lil' Strip Club in Capeside, so he heads up to his room to lie down. He isn't alone, however. "Hey," a familiar female voice greets him. He sits up to find Joey sitting in the corner of his room. "Rager downstairs, huh?" she smiles. "Yeah," he nods. "Less than a week into junior year and already my life's in complete and utter upheaval."
"Then I'm probably the last person you want to see," she says, a twinge of sadness in her voice. Dawson smiles at her. "You're a lot of things, Joey, but you're never the last person I want to see." Encouraged, she joins him on the bed. "Dawson, um ... I'm sorry. Not just about today ... about everything. About my dad. I was wrong. I mean, in that total moment of adolescent anguish and upset, I lashed out at the one person who cares about me the most and who I care about the most."
Though Joey acknowledges her earlier transgressions, Dawson isn't about to let her off the hook that easily. "You should have called me, Joey ... written. You should have contacted me." She agrees. "I should have done a lot of things. But I was ... ashamed. I figured I would just ignore life for a while. But you can't do that forever ... can you." "No, you can't," comes the short reply.
The pleasantries over, Joey cuts to the chase. "Who is she?" "Eve?" Dawson asks nonchalantly. (No, the other bleach blonde bimbo hanging off your crotch after you crashed the boat) "I just met her." Joey's voice is full of concern. "Are you two ..." "Hardly."
Palpable relief fills the air, but it is soon replaced by a now-familiar tension. "So ... did you miss me?" Joey finally asks. "You know I did." "Good," she whispers, gaining confidence, and stands up over him. "Cause I missed you, too." "Things aren't the same anymore, Jo." "It doesn't have to be the same, Dawson. It's a new year. Things can be different. They can be ... better." Joey takes a deep breath and lifts her tank top over her head, revealing a black bra underneath. She slowly drops her shirt on the floor and lowers herself to Dawson's level, leaning in towards him, their mouths a fraction of an inch from each other.
"No."
Joey moves backward sharply, as if burnt by white-hot fire. "What is it? What's wrong?" she asks, horrified and humiliated. "Everything's wrong. This is not you." "I can be sexual, Dawson," she tells him, half-stating and half-begging. "I know you can, Joey. But we can't do this. Not now. Not like this. Put your shirt on." "Go to hell," she softly mutters, getting dressed without meeting his eyes, clearly ashamed. He can't bring himself to look at her. "I'm sorry if you're hurt."
"Hurt?" Joey repeats bitterly. "Why would I be hurt, Dawson? I hope you're not delusional enough to think this was some embarrassing attempt at getting you back. Besides, if sex is all you're about these days --" "Sex is not all I'm about, Joey. And you, more than anyone, should know that."
It all comes tumbling out now -- the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. "Don't blame me for your sexual inexperience, Dawson" Joey tells him hotly. "I'm not blaming you --" "I never stopped you from being with someone else!" she snaps, but Dawson won't play that game. "That was particularly clear when you dumped me twice." She moves in for the kill. "You had time, Dawson. There was plenty of time for you to have all the fun you wanted. It's not my fault if you're still a virgin." He sighs sadly. "What happened between us or didn't happen was because both of us wanted it that way."
All of Joey's insecurities come rushing to the surface. "What's wrong? What's so wrong with me?" she whispers, shaking her head. Dawson shakes his head. "It's not you. It's us. I can't go through it all again. You say it will be different, but it won't be." Joey's on the verge of tears. "You don't know that." "Yes, I do. And so do you." A long pause fills the air before he continues. "Joey, one more year like last year and I can promise you, there will be no love left between us."
"So, is there anything else?" she asks, her voice wavering. "Yes." "So, you love me, you just don't want me." Joey tries to clarify, but Dawson doesn't answer. Tears fall silently down her cheeks and she leaves through the window as Dawson continues to sit silently on his bed.
Downstairs, Pacey has an announcement to make. He calls for everyone's attention, as the music dulls and the crowd simmers down. Dawson joins the party as Pacey starts to speak. "Gentlemen and esteemed exotic dancers, I'd like to present to you the man that made this all possible ... Mr. Dawson Leery!" Applause and cheering follows. "I think the preliminary results of our little pledge drive are in so, Gino, if I could have the envelope, please? The unofficial tally of tonight's festivities comes to ... 3,162 dollars! Call me crazy, can call me insane, but I think it's time to open this place up to the public, whaddya say?" A second round of applause and cheering follows.
Eve takes this as her cue to steal Dawson away to someplace more secluded. She tell him she has a "surprise" for him, but he balks, telling her he thinks he should "probably stay and make sure nobody burns my house down." Eve rolls her eyes and sighs. "And why would you do that?" "Probably to avoid figuring out whether or not I'm going to sleep with you," he replies honestly. Typical Eve, she uses Dawson's vulnerability to her advantage. "Follow me," she purrs, "And all secrets will be revealed."
Dawson tells her he'll be right there, then yanks Pacey down from a table where he's dancing with a stripper. They head out on to the veranda. "She wants me back," Dawson says flatly. "Joey?" "Yeah. And as we speak, the ever-tempting Eve stands waiting in the wings." (Poor guy, ya just gotta feel sorry for him, don't you? Not one, but two attractive women throwing themselves at him in the same night ... how cruelly unfair life is for our young hero!)
"Always comes down to this, my friend, doesn't it?" Pacey chortles. "The Madonna or the jezebel." Dawson tries to explain the rationale behind his rejection of Joey. "God, you should have seen her, Pace. She was standing before me as innocent and as beautiful as she's ever been, and I wanted her as much as I ever have. But ... I don't know." He sighs. "As large of a part of me that wanted her, there's as large a part of me that knows that now is not the right time for us."
"Yeah," Pacey nods slightly, fully sympathetic. But his support and friendship are about to be thoroughly tested with Dawson's next words. "I need to know she's okay," he tells Pacey. "Could you talk to her? Maybe watch out for her for a couple of days?" Visions of science projects gone horribly wrong dance through Pacey's head. "Oh no, no, no," he insists, but Dawson overrides him. "She needs someone. She'd never admit it, but she does." Pacey is chagrined. "Dawwwwsoooon! Man!" "You'd be doing it as a favour for me, Pace. Please?" Finally, Pacey nods. Dawson smiles then leaves, in pursuit of Eve and heaven knows what else.
He meets up with Eve dockside. She's in a small powerboat. "Want to go for a ride?" she asks provocatively, explaining that the craft is on loan from her boss. "I was kind of hoping that we'd graduated from the open ocean to dry land," Dawson tells her. Eve grins suggestively. "If at first you don't succeed ..."
"Dawson!" A loud, angry voice calls from offscreen. Dawson turns back towards his house and sees Mitch searching everywhere for him. "Who's that?" Eve asks. "That's my father," Dawson sighs dejectedly. "Unexpectedly home from the hill." Eve doesn't want to join Dawson's pity party. "Listen, Dawson, you're one step away from the rest of your life. Get in."
"I crashed his boat and I wrecked his house," Dawson offers by way of explanation. "I can't just leave." Eve tries to reason with him. "There's nothing you can do tonight, anyway. Be honest. What's going to change between now and tomorrow morning?" "Nothing ... except maybe me," he tells her truthfully, which makes me wonder -- is he not going because he honestly feels obligated to stay and face the music with Mitch, or is he not going because he honestly feels scared of what might happen?
"Last chance." He looks at her and smiles sadly. "I can't." Eve stares at him intently. "You know what, Dawson? I don't know who's the bigger mystery. Me ... or you." (Oh, Eve. Eve, Eve, Eve. Don't flatter yourself. There's absolutely no mystery involved here; in fact, you're about as obvious, blatant and unmysterious as a giant neon sign with the word "tramp" would be) With a last backwards smile over her shoulder, Eve drives away from the dock as Dawson watches her wordlessly, throwing back his head and groaning at his decision.
Much further down the creek, Joey, too, is sitting wordlessly at the dock outside her home. She's on the verge of tears as a boat drifts into view. No, it isn't Eve -- captain Pacey Witter is at the helm of Dawson's rowboat. "Ahoy, there! Anyone ashore?" he calls out to her. Joey is not impressed with his presence. "What are you doing here?" she asks angrily. He grins. "It's the damndest thing, I just got into Dawson's rowboat and it magically drifted towards your dock." "Yeah, well, magically drift any closer and I'll kill you." (Now THERE's the old Joey we know and love!)
"You know, I almost believe that." Pacey ties up the boat at the dock and climbs out, sitting beside Joey, who has grown increasingly annoyed. He makes himself comfortable and stares at her, smiling and nodding, waiting for her to say something.
"He told you, didn't he? Didn't he?" Pacey asks her what she thinks. "I think I hate you both." "Well, then you're really gonna hate me when you hear what I have to say," Pacey replies calmly. "He did the right thing." Joey looks at him, horrified. "The two of you need to be apart right now."
"How would you know what I need?" Joey demands, her eyes flashing anger. "Yeah," Pacey nods dryly, with a small chuckle. "Yeah, you know, you're probably right. How could I possibly know how hard it is to let somebody go, right? The pain of knowing that, even though the two of you are right for each other, that doesn't necessarily mean that you're right for each other right now. What would I know about that, right? How could I possibly know that sometimes it just ... makes you want to scream ... hit somebody ... sit out on the end of a dock and cry?"
Crying is something Joey is determined not to do in front of Pacey, but she does it anyway, in spite of herself. "Of all the people to see me like this it had to be you," she sighs. "You know, it's a new year ... who knows? You and I might actually become friends?" "Pacey, I'm upset enough as it is," she replies dryly, softening somewhat. His speech appears to be getting through to her. With a little laugh, Pacey moves a little closer to Joey, encouraged by her attempt at humour. All is not lost. "Come here, Potter," he says in a low voice, putting a protective arm around her. Hesitant at first, Joey gingerly rests her head against his shoulder and finally allows the tears to flow.
Fade to black ...