"Your mom was an HQ?" Dawson marvels. "Eh, she was Miss Cape Cod, same difference," Jen grumbles. In a nasty tone, she recounts her mother's graduation from "swimsuit competition to a life of cucumber sandwiches, high teas and junior league." (Gee, Jen, don't like your mother much?) Dawson asks what her point is. She sighs. "It's just, despite all my best efforts, I too have managed to reach the very pinnacle of Capeside popular culture."
Dawson looks her as if she's exaggerating slightly (oh that's rich, coming from the High Priest of Melodrama himself), but Jen is insistent. "Dawson, I have sold my soul. I have become that false character who just follows their name around." "Beat yourself up much, Jen?" he smiles, but she looks at him sourly. "Only when I deserve it. Just another happy character flaw brought to you directly from Mommy Dearest."
"You know, I think you've got it backwards," Dawson suggests. "I don't think anyone voted for you because you're like your mom. I think they voted for you because you're different." Jen cuts to the chase: "They voted for me because I'm blonde and I fill out my sweater." "That too," he concedes, "But I think ... when kids voted for you, they voted for an outsider, you know? A provocateur. A messiah to lead them from the mainstream."
One of Capeside High's own messiahs, Mr. Milo, confronts our dynamic duo as they turn a corner in the hall. "There she is," he beams at Jen. "Miss Lindley, may we interrupt?" Jen casts an awkward, troubling look at Dawson before replying, "With good news, I hope, Mr. Milo."
He beams at her some more. "Allow me to introduce you to Capeside High's finest. You are looking at half a century of Homecoming Queens!" With a flourish, he steps aside to reveal a gaggle of giggling, well-groomed ladies of all ages who coo and smile at a very distraught Jen. "Ladies, may I present Miss Jennifer Lindley. 1999's proud addition to your numbers!"
A hush falls over the crowd, and a blue-haired old biddy steps forward as spokeslady. "My name is Constance Freckling, of the Mayflower Frecklings." Not getting the recognition she expected from Jen, she continues. "Famous Freckling's Candies?" Still no dice. "I'm the oldest living HQ." Jen nods woodenly. Miss Freckling grabs Jen's hand. "Now Jennifer, if you'll extend your index finger along the inside of my wrist like this ... Congratulations! You've learned the secret handshake!" (Guess that means Jen's Secret Decoder Ring is due to arrive any day now in the mail)
"Welcome to the club," Miss Freckling gushes. "I've heard all about you!" Jen is swarmed by the Estrogen Brigade and smiles nervously at Dawson, who looks on in amusement.
Cut to a decidedly less enthusiastic affair -- Joey's house, where a Testosterone Brigade of construction workers are hammering, sawing, nailing and making general building-like noises. Bessie doles out coffee as Pacey and Joey approach. "Guys, it's all so exciting!" she notes of the swirling mass of construction and building. "Now tell me, whose brilliant idea was this again?"
"Mine!" Pacey and Joey chime at the same time, but Joey shoots Pacey a look that would melt ice. "Okay," Pacey caves, "It was your sister's idea to craft this place into a bed and breakfast, but I'm the one who told her how she could do it for next to nothing." This triggers Bessie to ask Pacey to thank his Dad for getting them the help. He smiles and tells them that's what the police auxiliary is for.
Bessie leaves and Pacey pours Joey a cup o' Joe(y). "Take it black?" "Yeah," she sighs, looking miserable. He sets the pot down, then turns to grill her. "Okay, Potter, what's up?" "Well, considering that a lot of our insurance money is going to be swallowed up in this, I just hope it all works out," she mutters. "It'll work," he reassures her. "It better," Joey frowns. "I can't go back to the marina gig."
Pacey sips his coffee. "Yeah, whatever happened with that creep, anyhow?" "Long story," Joey replies, but it seems Pacey's in the mood for a lengthy tale. Fumbling for a delicate way to explain the Rob-Andie situation, Joey tells Pacey Rob was going on a date with, "uh ... somebody that I know," and Joey was concerned about her, so she tried to warn her and, as a result, he fired Joey the next day.
"What a charmer," Pacey smiles ruefully. "So ... who was the girl?" Joey looks away and quickly mutters, "No one you know." "Really?" he probes. "Yep," she replies, just as quickly. Pacey's smile turns into a cynical chuckle. "Yeah. Potter, do yourself a favour -- never go into politics. You're constitutionally incapable of lying with a straight face. So, who was she?"
Joey's silent, apologetic face tells him all he needs to (not) know. "Oh," Pacey sounds defeated. "Sorry," Joey winces. "I wasn't going to tell you, Pacey." He smiles tightly, but it's wholly unconvincing. "Why do I feel like I just got hit with a sledgehammer?" Joey looks at him sympathetically. "If it's any consolation, it won't last. I mean, Andie's way too smart to fall for that jerk's act --" "Hey, it's okay," Pacey interjects. "Whatever makes her happy, right?" With that, he walks away briskly, tossing the contents of his coffee mug on the grass.
Over at maison Leery, Dawson enters the kitchen with a routine greeting to his father, but is pleasantly surprised to find his other parental unit perched on a stool instead. "Mom?" "Hey," Gale smiles warmly at her son, who rushes over and envelopes her in a hug. "Oh honey, I've missed you so much!" Dawson asks what she's doing home, but Gale dodges the question with a breezy, "What, a mother can't surprise her son?" Dawson smiles and tells her he isn't complaining.
Just then, Mitch enters the kitchen, overhearing the last snippet of conversation. "I can tell you why she's here," he informs his son. "This year's HQ gala." Gale smiles at him. "Your father knows me too well. Being an HQ from a certain undisclosed year in the late '70s, yeah, I thought I'd come home." Mitch looks at her with a small smile. "Late '70s?" Gale laughs sheepishly.
Dawson crosses to the fridge and informs his parents that none other than Jen is planning this year's gala. "The gala? Jen Lindley?" Gale asks incredulously. "Yeah," Mitch nods. "Capeside's newest Homecoming Queen." Gale asks how on earth that happened, to which Dawson replies nobody's quite sure, although he's interpreting it as an early sign of the Armageddon.
Gale glances at her son. "Huh. Well at the very least, that should make for a fun time for us." Dawson frowns. "Have you developed a lazy eye or were you actively looking in my direction when you said 'us'?" Gale swallows, and decides to tackle a difficult subject head-on. "Honey, I need an escort." Dawson doesn't know what to say, so he looks from his mother to his father, looking for some sign of reassurance. His parents glance at each other and at him uncomfortable for a few silent moments, until Mitch breaks the Great Leery Stare-Off Competition by walking out of the room.
Later on that day, in the school caf, Pacey and Joey are eating lunch at a table when Andie decides to join them (whatever for is beyond me, you think she'd know Pacey doesn't want anything to do with her). "Hi," she begins as an all-around ice-breaker and peace offering. Pacey passes on the olive branch. "You know, I just remembered I got some French vocab to study for." He stands up, ready to leave, when Andie points out he doesn't take French. "Well, all the more reason, right?" he replies tight-lipped, and walks away.
"You told him," Andie announces flatly. Joey looks uncomfortable at being caught in the middle. "It slipped out over breakfast," she confesses. A little green monster rears its ugly head within Andie. "Breakfast?" she echoes. "Yeah," Joey clarifies. "Pacey's been helping Bessie and me with the addition. You know, the one we're investing every spare cent we have to build, so we can hopefully open soon and financially barely scrape by?"
The subtle dig at Joey's recent dismissal by Andie's new "boyfriend" doesn't go unnoticed. "Look, Joey, it wasn't my fault you got fired," Andie tells her. "And even if it was, which it wasn't, you can't stay mad at me forever." "Not forever," Joey responds with cold eyes. "A few solid months." Andie sighs. "Okay, I don't know what Rob and I are. I just know that it's not worth our friendship, Joey."
"I appreciate the sentiment," Joey smiles tightly. "But don't break-up with that imbecile on my behalf. Do it for yourself." "He's nice to me," Andie points out. What Joey should have said is, "Yeah, because he's trying to get into your pants." But her actual words were just as good: "So is Mr. Charley the school janitor, you don't date him."
Give it up, Jo, you aren't gonna win this one. "All I know is, I can't help it ... I like him," Andie proclaims. Joey shakes her head, her lips narrowing into a thin line. "For now. But I can promise you this, Andie. You're going to get a big, fat I told you so."
After school, Jen has to stop by Miss Freckling's house to start planning the HQ bash. Well, "house" is a bit of an understatement -- Miss Candy Bar Heiress herself lives in more of a white pillared, sweeping driveway mansion than a mere four-walled dwelling. Jen knocks on the double doors and spies a note affixed to the doorknocker which assumedly invites her inside, because that's exactly what she does -- walks in, and starts poking around the various rooms. She comes across one room with a three-quarters finished, very elegant-looking lavender ballgown hanging on a tailor's dummy and walks right up to it for a closer inspection.
"Don't slouch, young lady," a sharp voice calls from behind her. "Square your shoulders, and face the world!" Jen turns to find Miss Manners, I mean, Miss Freckling gesturing to the dress. "What do you think?" Jen looks confused. "The dress," Miss Freckling explains patiently. "It's nearly finished. I make a new one every year for tomorrow's gala celebration."
Jen nods, and jumps on the segue. "Oh. See that's what I wanted to --" "One must remain modern, after all," Miss Freckling cuts in. "I'm thinking of lifting the hem and softening the neckline a little." Jen smiles tightly. "Softening would be good. Listen, Mrs. Freckling --" "Miss Freckling. I never married," her hostess corrects.
Lots of banging on the roof shifts their attention away from the conversation at hand. "What in the world was that?" Jen asks. Miss Freckling explains it's only Hank, her "handyboy." "Lovely child, lives right down the road," Miss Freckling tells her. "Presently, he's hanging extra twinkle bulbs on my roof."
Another segue means another opportunity to discuss what's really on Jen's mind: "Oh yeah, about that party ... I hope that you don't mind, but ... Well, it's just that I've been through all this before ... with my mother, and she was constantly trying to turn me into a debutante and, and it's just not my thing."
If Jen was hoping to get off the hook, she's going to have to try a little bit harder than that. "Oh, but I do mind," Miss Freckling admonishes. "You have a responsibility, young lady, as the newly-crowned queen to help me host this event." "But I never asked for any of this," Jen pleads. (and she thought Grams was bad!)
"Nor did I ask for you, Jennifer," Miss Freckling replies curtly. "Most girls who walk through this door are pleased as punch to be here. They're sweet, upstanding, enthusiastic girls who relish the chance to be role models. They tend to stand up straight, comb their hair and ..." Her eyes glance at Jen's chest disapprovingly, "... wear brassieres. Am I making myself clear?"
"Crystal," Jen mutters sourly, then turns on her heels and walks out the door without a further word. Just as she closes the front door behind her, Mr. Hanky (sorry, couldn't resist) the Handyboy decides to take a flying leap off the roof and land gracelessly in a pile at Jen's feet.
Miraculously, he jumps up unscathed, and whaddya know, "Hank" turns out to be none other than Henry, former Flutie mouthpiece owner and Jen's biggest fan. "You're Hank," she states in an I-should-have-known tone, but Henry's, for once, doesn't freeze on the spot and go mute at the sound of her voice. "Quick!" he hollers. "Bees! Run for your life!" Grabbing her hand, he dashes off down the primrose path (literally) to Miss Freckling's greenhouse. (Bees, huh? That's an original pick-up line if I ever heard one)
From Jen and Henry to Joey and Pacey -- we find the latter sweeping the floors of the Potter home's new B&B addition. "Just like the cops to disappear when the going gets tough," Joey mutters. Pacey suggests some have wives and children to get home to. "You know, I was thinking, Potter -- you're gonna need a name for this new addition when we do get finished," he informs her very matter-of-factly, "So a suggestion, if I may? How does the Pacey J. Witter Wing strike you?"
Joey scowls at him from behind her broom. "Keep talking, and it'll be a memorial dedication." "You know, Potter, sometimes your lack of gratefulness? It borders on unappealing," he tells her sweetly, but before she can come back with a witty rejoinder, Bessie enters with a cordless phone. She tells Joey it's for her and "whoever it is, she sounds upset." Joey's brow furrows and she grabs the phone. "Hello? ... Hello?" "Joey?" comes a tearful sob from the other end. "Andie? Is that you?" At the mention of his ex-girlfriend's name, Pacey's head jerks up. "Joey, please help me," Andie wails. Joey and Pacey exchange a worried look.
Joey and Pacey rush to Rob's house, where an all-out par-tay is in full swing. They find Andie huddled under a tree outside, shivering and sniffling. "Andie, what happened?" Joey demands, but Andie replies tearfully that she doesn't want to talk about it, she just wants to go home. "Andie, you gotta tell us what happened first," Pacey insists. "Pacey, please --" Andie wails again. Joey and Pacey order Andie to tell them what Rob did, asking if he hurt her.
Andie stops crying long enough to tell them that that she and Rob were upstairs in his bedroom, just kissing. "And then ... he started trying to ... and I kept saying no, and he kept trying, and then I managed to get away before anything else happened. And that's when I came down and I called Joey and -- can we just go now, please?" She starts crying all over again.
Understandably, Pacey is enraged. "Where is he?" "Don't worry about it," Andie pleads, but he ignores her and nods towards the house. "Is he in there?" Joey suggests they just go, but Pacey won't hear of it. "I'm not leaving until I talk to that bastard," he vows, starting off towards the house. Andie attempts one last time to change his mind, but to no avail. He strides towards the Logan mansion, as Joey wraps an arm around Andie and they watch him wordlessly.
In a scene which could be found on the cutting room floor of Pretty In Pink or Some Kind Of Wonderful, Pacey marches into Rob's home and into the middle of a preppy-infested kegger. People glance at him oddly, but he doesn't see them -- this is a man on a mission. His eyes peeled for Rob, Pacey stalks through the house and out into the back garden, where he spots his prey regaling a bunch of fellow slimeballs with a trip down ego lane.
"Rob?" Pacey interrupts from behind. Rob turns around, his face not registering the stranger before him. "Yeah?" "You're with Andie, right?" But before Rob can answer, Pacey hauls off and slugs the guy, and is immediately pulled off him by the members of Rob's goon squad. "What the hell did you do to her, man?" Pacey demands, struggling to break free of the hold on him.
"I didn't do anything!" Rob shouts, nursing his sore jaw. Pacey's eyes flash. "That's why she's outside, bawling her eyes out! For nothing, right?" "Where is she?" Rob asks, but Pacey tells him he isn't going anywhere near her and lunges for him again. "Get off me!" Rob hollers. Pacey does, and threatens Rob that if he so much as touches Andie again, "I am going to nail you to a cross." (Why? What Rob did was hardly Christ-like ...)
Rob looks confused. "Wait a minute, I didn't even lay a hand on her!" he insists, but Pacey's had enough. "Save it for the judge, Logan, huh?" he spits over his shoulder as he walks away. Rob throws a somewhat useless "Get out of my house!" at him, as his kegger frat boy friends pat his shoulder, dust him off, and hand him another beer.
Several hours have passed, and yet Henry and Jen are still inside Miss Freckling's greenhouse, admiring the, well, greenery. (That must have been some swarm of bees out there) "It's really beautiful in here," Jen comments, which is about the first nice thing she's ever said to Hank, er ... Henry. "Isn't it?" he agrees happily. "You're looking at over 200 plants." He points to a particularly pretty flower a few feet away. "Bulbophyllum Virginalis."
Jen giggles. "You're making that up." Henry shakes his head. "No, I'm not. I swear. Sometimes they get a little suggestive with the names." Still smiling, Jen asks for another example. "Okay," Henry tells her eagerly, thrilled to be having a relatively easy-flowing discussion with the object of his affection. "How about Polystachya Pubescenes or Vanda Vaginatum?
"Oooh, is it hot in here, or did you just make me blush?" Jen teases. Suddenly, Henry's ill-at-ease, not quite sure what to say or do with Jen's comment. "Ohhh ..." he begins, but falls short, looking acutely embarrassed. "Relax, Henry," Jen smiles. "It'll take a lot more than a flower to offend me. How did you learn so much about these?"
"Miss Freckling," he replies simply. Jen sighs. "What's the deal with her?" "What do you mean?" Henry blinks. Jen frowns. "She's wound so tight, she's like a violin string." "Nah," Henry rushes to his employer's defense. "She's ... she's just sad." "Sad?" Jen repeats, surprised that anyone that abrasive could be capable of any other emotions. Henry nods solemnly. "She's got no one in her life. She never had kids ... no relatives. I've lived next door to her for 10 years. I think I'm her best friend."
Jen smiles again. "I don't know who to feel sorrier for, you or her." She expects Henry to laugh along with her, but when she looks at him, he looks away, wearing a pained expression. "Henry, we're gonna have to toughen you up," Jen tells him gently. "You keep wearing your heart on your sleeve like that and you're gonna bleed to death."
"It's not me, it's her," Henry clarifies. "You have no idea how much she was looking forward to meeting you." "She was?" Jen is clearly surprised by this admission. Henry nods. "I told her all about you. See, the thing is ... she has exactly two events on her social calendar. The W.O.C. in Miami every spring --" "W.O.C.?" "-- The World Orchid Conference," he explains. "And in the fall, the Homecoming Queen gala. It's what she lives for. Without them, she's got nothing at all."
Over at Joey's, she and Pacey are trying to convince Andie to go to the police and report what Rob did. Andie refuses, despite their logic, begging and pleading. "It's not like he actually did anything," she tells them. Joey shrugs, and invites Andie to stay over at her house. "I really don't think you should be alone tonight," she gently suggests. Again, Andie refuses. "I can take care of this, Jo," Pacey tells her quietly. Joey looks at him hesitantly. "You sure?" "Yeah," he nods.
Back at the Freckling mansion, Miss Freckling is working away on her homecoming gown when Jen and Henry enter. "Miss Freckling?" Henry calls. No reply. "Constance?" Still no answer. He turns to Jen. "She's got her aid turned off." Jen raises her eyebrows. "Aid?" "Hearing aid," Henry says. "Sometimes she likes to tune out the world."
Henry gently taps her on the shoulder and it jolts her out of her reverie. "Oh! Hank, you startled me." She switches on her hearing aid and gives Jen the once-over. "I, um ... I ran into Jen outside," Henry offers by way of explanation. Jen smiles apologetically. "Miss Freckling, I know that we got off on the wrong foot and I ... just wanted to see if we could start over."
Miss Freckling beams. "He is persuasive when he wants to be, isn't he?" Caught in an awkward moment, Jen stammers, "Oh, well ... I ... I ... I'm just getting to know him." (Why can't she just be nice and say something like "yes," which wouldn't hurt Henry's feelings? Why does she have to be such a cow?) "Well," Miss Freckling smiles more warmly, "If he likes you, you can't be all bad." "You know," Jen grins, "I was just thinking the same thing about you."
Sensing a breakthrough, Henry the Peacemaker asks if they should "wait for the waters to calm or just dive right into the party planning?" Jen, typically, suggests they dive right in. Miss Freckling agrees, and the trio head over to the sofa. "Entertainment or food, take your pick," she tells Jen. Jen opts for entertainment.
"Ah," Miss Freckling nods. "Surprise, surprise. Now, since it's my house, there are some rules." "Surprise, surprise," Jen echoes with a small smile. The ice hasn't been completely broken yet. Miss Freckling begins to rattle off a list of no-no's that would make a booking agent's head spin (but actually, they're surprisingly accurate for an old gal): "No mimes, no magicians, no Barry Manilow, no Elvis lookalikes, no motivational speakers, no comedy troupes, no breakdancing, no gangsta rap, no animal tricks --"
Jen holds up a hand. "Okay, okay. No nothing that you might possibly see on Letterman." Miss Freckling looks puzzled. "What's Letterman?" Jen and Henry exchange a small smile. "How does a string quartet playing Mozart strike you?" Jen suggests. Miss Freckling grins from ear to ear. "Perfect!" "Okay," Jen nods, "I'll split the difference." "I'm sure you will," Miss Freckling purrs.
Meeting adjourned -- but not before one last item of business from Jen. Miss Freckling and Henry look at her, curious. "Well, uh ... he doesn't know it yet, but Hank here is going as my date." Miss Freckling beams again as Henry sits down next to Jen, speechless with joy, and she puts her arm around his shoulder amicably.
Pacey's idea of "taking care of this" involves bringing Andie to his newly-bought, very much unfinished boat. They sit there, side by side, and she picks up the sign bearing the boat's name: True Love. "That's ironic," she mumbles in a feeling-sorry-for-herself tone. "Yeah, well," Pacey mumbles back in the same tone, "I figured since it didn't exist, I'd try and create it for myself."
Pacey wraps her in a blanket, and Andie asks why he brought her there. Searching for an answer, he shrugs that she said she wanted to go someplace quiet. "There's lots of quiet places, Pacey," Andie says softly. "Yeah, I guess there are," he concedes. "Um ... I guess I just wanted to show you I've been okay since we ended things. I've found a way to turn what's killing me into something potentially beautiful."
"I haven't, Pacey," Andie admits, then utters the four words any ex-boyfriend or girlfriend never wants to hear. "I'm not over you." "You will be, McPhee," he tells her in a slightly strained voice. "See? Even that -- just you calling me by my last name. Do you know how long I've waited to hear that?" she replies with a touch of desperation.
I admire the boy for his self-control, I really do. With a lot of restraint, he tells her she's been through a lot tonight. "Let's not go there, huh?" But, in typical Andie McPhee fashion, her tenacious pursuit of what she wants means she won't give up at the first obstacle. "If it took what happened tonight to bring us together, so be it."
"We're not together." The statement is blunt, cold, and probably not something Andie wants to hear, judging by the hurt look on her face. Pacey softens his words a little. "I mean, I'm here for you, but we're not together." Andie draws closer to him, lowering her voice a little and searching Pacey's eyes. "If we're not together, then I'm not sitting beside you ... staring into your eyes ... and kissing you ..."
She leans in to kiss him, but just before her lips touch his, he pulls away. (Like I said, I admire the boy for his self-control!) "Andie ..." he begins, but trails off, not knowing what to say. "Sorry," she says, embarrassed and saddened. "We just ... can't," Pacey exhales deeply. "We can't ... for so many reasons, we can't."
Miss Persistance won't give up, though. "I'm not asking you what we can't do, Pacey. I'm asking you what you want to do," she whispers. Pacey thinks a moment. "I want to know that you're okay. That's all that matters to me now." "That's a shame," Andie replies. "Because you still matter to me in every way. I want to be with you, Pacey."
"I know that's how you're feeling right now, but tomorrow could be an entirely different story," he tells her (quite honestly). Andie shakes her head. "I'm not talking about tomorrow. I'm talking about right now. Tonight. You and me, together ... under the stars ... just like it used to be. I'm talking about a kiss. That's all I'm asking. Don't you want to?"
Though I admire Pacey's resolve, I also don't condemn him for breaking down and giving in, either. Anyone who's ever been betrayed or rejected by someone they loved, then given a seemingly impossible, plucked-from-the-sky opportunity to recapture what they once had with that person, even if only for a mere moment, can probably relate to what happens next -- Pacey and Andie stare into each other's eyes, he gently caresses the side of her face, and they kiss, then pull away, searching each other's eyes for guidance, then kiss again. And again. And again ...
The morning after the night before, Pacey drives Andie home in the patrol car. As they pull up to her door, she smiles warmly, thanking him for taking care of her. He offers a glib "Right back atcha, Andie" in reply. Hmmmm. Before she gets out of the car, Andie decides to clarify one little thing about the previous night's encounter: "I just wanna say, for the record, about last night. Whatever did or did not happen between us happened for a reason, and I, for one, am 100 per cent okay with it. And you know, wherever it may lead, whatever new status may result, it's totally --"
"Andie ..." Pacey begins, "... I'm rambling," she finishes. He nods. "Yeah." She nods back. "Well, it's an awkward moment, and I'm scared, and in scared moments I ramble. I mean, some people do that sometimes, I mean, sometimes they even ramble when they're --"
"Andie ..." he starts again, and she smiles sheepishly. "Rambling again, right?" she sighs. "I guess I just wanna know that you're feeling what I'm feeling." Pacey looks at her intently, but the expression on his face is unreadable. "I am." She sighs again, much relieved. "That makes me so happy." Andie gets out of the car, but not before giving Pacey a quick goodbye kiss on the cheek. "Okay." She waves to him, and Pacey waves back until she's out of sight, then he closes his eyes and leads back against the headrest, deep in thought.
The same morning, Joey opens her front door to reveal an anxious and angry Rob. She glares at him. "Didn't you read the sign? No known sex offenders within 200 yards of my property." Joey starts to close the door, but Rob inserts himself in the doorframe, stopping her.
"I didn't do it." "Not bad." Joey looks mock-impressed. "You could use a little work on the delivery, however. I suggest a less forceful interpretation." Again, she tries to close the door, and again he stands in the way. "Joey, please," Rob begs, grabbing her hand. "Tell me ... tell me she hasn't gone to the police?"
Joey's eyes narrow to slits. "You touch me again and I will scream faster than you can say William Kennedy Smith, you got it?" "Look, Joey -- She was the one that wanted to go upstairs, okay?" Rob sounds frantic. "She ... she practically dragged me up to that room ... and when we started kissing, I swear, she just ... she just freaked out!" "Know what, Rob? You do not have a lot or credibility with me right now," Joey responds coldly (and understandably, too). He exhales, frustrated. "Fine, I admit it, okay? But there is a difference between an inappropriate workplace flirtation and --"
"And sexual assault? You draw your own line in the sand, Rob, they're both against the law," For the third time, she tries to close the door, and for the third time, he pushes it back open, grabbing her arm. "I have never forced myself on anyone." (Um, hello? What're you doing right now, then?) "If you say so," Joey replies in an even voice, with a rueful shake of her head.
Rob's so desperate to be believed by this point that he grasps at any available straws. "It's no secret that she's unstable! No secret that she spent some time in a mental hospital!" Joey's eyes grow wild, but she remains coolly calm. "I'm going to pretend that you never said that." This time, she manages to close the door without interruption, but not before Rob yells, "Then why would she do this, huh? That's all I wanna know! For what possible reason?"
Cut to a much happier scene: The Capeside High Homecoming Queen Gala, at the Freckling Mansion. A well-dressed champagne and hors d'oeuvres crowd mingle amid the strains of quaint classical music as Miss Freckling surveys the ballroom, extremely pleased. "Splendid. Splendid," she smiles to herself.
At a table, Dawson and Gale people-watch. "Oh, don't look now, here comes Maralyn Mendrick and her husband. I haven't seen them in years," Gale whispers. Dawson mutters he can't stand that woman, but it's too late -- they've been spotted. The Leerys approach the smiling and waving Mendricks, mostly because they have no choice in the matter.
The families exchange minor pleasantries, then Maralyn gushes, "I heard all about Philadelphia." Gale frowns. "I'm sure you did. Excuse us, we were just going to get a drink." She tries to lead Dawson away, but ever the chivalrous knight in shining armour (well, a tuxedo, at any rate), her son won't budge before he announces that he's quite proud of his mother.
"Oh, we all are, even if Philadelphia didn't quite agree with her," Maralyn states airily. "Honestly, I think it's perfectly absurd to fire an anchor because the public felt she was too old to identify with. You wouldn't hear them saying that about Diane Sawyer." Hubby Neal pipes up: "Gale, I speak for the whole county when I say you'd be welcome back on our airwaves anytime."
Gale gives him a flat, "Thank you, Neal," and he beams, turning to his wife. "Shall we?" The damage done, they leave, and Dawson looks at his mother expectantly. "Mom, is there something you want to tell me?" An awkward expression crosses Gale's face, but she remains silent.
Luckily, she's saved by the bell. Or, at least, a couple of fools. Enter Jen and Henry at the other end of the ballroom, dressed in outfits that can only be described as The Addams Family meets a Pierrot the Mime. Miss Freckling storms over to them, seething with disapproval. "You're late. The entertainment still isn't here, and that wardrobe is far from appropriate attire. I demand you go home and change this instant!" She turns to Henry, clearly disappointed in him. "I can understand why she would turn this into a travesty, but why you, Henry?"
Jen sighs, rolling her eyes. "Relax, okay? I put him up to it ... and you haven't seen anything yet." Off camera, an ambiguous sounding voice booms, "I swear, it's hotter than a French prostitute in this place!" The voice belongs to a statuesque drag queen, who sashays into the joint with three doppelgangers in tow.
"What you need, Amanda, is a long, tall, stiff one!" one of RuPaul's sisters drawls. "On the rocks," 'Amanda' agrees. "You said it, sugar!" nods a third. Miss Freckling looks like she's going to have a coronary. "Who and what are they?" "They are the entertainment," Jen smiles benevolently. Miss Freckling turns a whiter shade of pale. "I need to sit down," she groans.
Missing out on all the Homecoming fun are Joey and Andie, who are passing a quiet evening, making dinner. Joey asks if Andie has told her father about the Rob incident, but Andie replies she hasn't, because it will only upset him, and "it's not like anything cataclysmic happened."
Joey frowns. "Andie, this guy could have hurt you." Gone is the tearful victim from the night before, the Next Day Andie is contrite and a tad less hysterical. "You don't know that, Joey. Maybe I over-reacted." Joey frowns some more, choosing her words very carefully. "Do you think you over-reacted?"
Instantly, Andie is on the defensive. "Well, I didn't cry wolf, if that's what you're saying!" "No, that's not what I'm saying," Joey insists, but Andie asks her to clarify herself. Joey sighs and moves closer to Andie. "I have to tell you something," she begins unhappily. "Rob stopped by my house this morning. He told me his side of the story and he basically got down on his knees pleading his innocence."
"So that's why you're here," Andie replies, hurt. "You, of all people, are gonna believe that scum?" Joey is quick to point out she didn't say that, but Andie will have none of it. "No, you just stopped by for a friendly little chat," she asks sarcastically. "No," Joey answers firmly, biting her lip, "I stopped by to make sure we were doing the right thing, Andie. Look, I should've reported the guy myself about his behavior towards me. I mean, maybe I could've prevented this whole thing."
Andie doesn't want to hear it though. Tossing some pasta into a pot of boiling water on the stove, she suggests that maybe it all happened for a reason, that even perhaps something good came out of it. This time, Joey asks her to clarify. "As of last night, Pacey and I are back together and I can't tell you how happy I am," Andie announces. "Because now, everything can just go back to the way it was." Joey doesn't quite know what to make of this, so she simply turns away without saying another word.
On stage at the Gala, Jen announces the evening's "entertainment." "Ladies and gentlemen, the moment that you've all been waiting for ... Please help me in welcoming the awesome talents of Amanda Wreckinwith, Summer Clearance, Megan Whoopee and Ms. Christy Anity!" The quartet rush onto the floor, groovin' and lip-synchin' to that old drag queen fave, "It's Rainin' Men" by The Weather Girls.
From the sidelines, Henry jokes to Jen that he thinks he has the hots for Christy, which elicits a giggle from her about his taste in women. All kidding aside, though, Henry is certain Constance (that's Miss Freckling to you and me) is going to kill him, but Jen's not so sure. "Down deep buried somewhere, I think she gets it." Henry doesn't "get" whatever it is Miss Freckling is supposed to "get," so Jen explains. "Homecoming Queens ... Drag Queens, what's the difference? It's all just people dressing up, pretending to be something they're not. Playing a role."
With that, she grabs his hand and tugs him off his seat. "Come on." Bewildered, Henry asks what she's doing. (Personally, after that speech, I wouldn't be surprised if he thought she was going to transform him into the fifth Beatle-ette there) "Dancing, Henry," Jen explains patiently "In hopes of performing a miracle and awakening the dead."
She leads him to the dance floor where she does a reasonable impersonation of the ole bump 'n' grind while Henry partakes in a sorry kind of lurching Frankendisco. (much scarier-looking than the drag queens!) Slowly, blue blood by blue blood, the dead are awakened and join Jen, Henry and the gals on the dance floor. Miss Freckling looks mightily vexed on the surface, however the camera pans down to reveal a hint of musical foot-tapping beneath that lavender ballgown of hers.
Andie's moved from Joey's to Pacey's, and enters the marina / boathouse area where Pacey's working on his craft bearing a basket of gifts, which he eyes curiously. "I thought that, uh, True Love could use a woman's touch. What do you think?" Pacey sighs. "Well, to tell you the truth, what she could use is a new rudder and a keel."
Andie pulls a pair of shoes and a hat from the basket. "Okay ... would you settle for a skipper's cap and a pair of my Dad's old topsiders?" Pacey puts on the cap. "Very nice," Andie approves. He doesn't share her enthusiasm, though. "Andie, to be honest, I ... I'm really starting to wonder whether I'm ever gonna finish her at all."
"Why do you say that?" Andie frowns. "Well," Pacey begins with a heavy heart, "because sometimes it's ... it's harder to rebuild something than it is to just start from scratch." She doesn't understand what he's getting at. "Why?" Andie asks softly. Pacey regards her sadly. "That picture that you have in your mind of the way something was ... it's never gonna be that way again."
The light goes on, and Andie suddenly clues in to what he's saying. "Yeah, but it ... it could be better." "Yeah, it could be," he agrees, "Depending on how badly damaged it was in the first place." Andie's voice is barely a whisper. "How badly damaged was it?" Pacey announces the inevitable in the same tone as he would the death of a loved one. "It was pretty much totaled."
Andie's eyes fill with tears. "Okay, Pacey, could we please stop beating this metaphor to death (yes, please!) and just talk about what we're actually talking about?" Pacey decides to cut to the chase: "I made a mistake last night, Andie. We both made a mistake."
"What did we do?" Andie pleads desperately. "Nothing." Pacey explains he can only tell her how it made him feel. "How?" Andie asks, already knowing the answer. "Like I went against what I know is right," he replies. Andie tells him that's funny because it's the first day she's felt really happy since she left the hospital. Pacey notes that her answer only goes to show how very different they've become. "That is funny. You know, there used to be a time when you and I were so in sync in everything that we did, just connected. And look at us now -- we have the opposite reaction to the exact same event."
Devastated, she asks him to reconsider. "Pacey, please don't do this. Not now. Don't break up with me." (Break up with you? Excuse me, Oh Miss Delusional One, but don't you have to officially be 'back together again' before you can break up? No, no, no, no, no. What you've just experienced is the dreaded Sex With Your Ex syndrome, a dreaded rite of passage for many un-couples)
He tells her he never wanted to break up with her, that all those months while she was in the hospital, he was just waiting, secretly hoping ... "You're just ... you're just punishing me!" Andie grows hysterical. "That's what this is about, and you just need to stop being angry with me!" Pacey shakes his head softly. "I'm not punishing you, Andie. Punishment implies that you did something wrong."
"I slept with another guy six months ago," she fumes. (Note to continuity people: What the fug? It's supposed to be late October, six months ago is April, which is clearly not when Andie was in the Funny Farm because May sweeps hadn't even taken place yet!) "Even then, I knew it was wrong. I keep trying to tell you this and make you understand it. How many times do I have to say it?"
(Okay, whoa whoa whoa, there, Missy. You have NO RIGHT to be pissed at Pacey. He, of all people, understands perfectly just how very wrong your actions were, so get off your sanctimonious high horse and shut yer cakehole!) But St. Pacey refuses to get riled over her outburst, bless 'im. "Andie, if you wanted to sleep with him -- even for a second -- then maybe it wasn't wrong at all." She begins to protest, but he talks through her. "Maybe ... maybe it was your heart telling you that I'm not the one. Because that's what my heart's telling me now. That you're not the one."
The tears they are a-tumblin' at this point. Andie begs him to reconsider, sobbing that he can't possibly mean what he's saying. All he can offer her is a sad apology, once again, but she doesn't want to hear it and rushes out the door.
Meanwhile, at Miss Freckling's House-O-Fun, a conga line has snaked it's way around the ballroom, but Capeside's oldest and youngest HQ's have decided to sit this one out. "Well, Jennifer, the evening wasn't a total disaster," Miss Freckling observes. "I will say one thing -- they sure do know how to dance." She and Jen share a laugh, then Jen offers an apology. "Whatever for?" Miss Freckling asks. "Besides the obvious, of course."
"Well the truth is that I intended to shock you tonight, but something unexpected happened. For the first time, I was able to see past the cliche and I actually enjoyed being a Homecoming Queen." Miss Freckling nods. "Which brings us to one small, unresolved item. Hank. He adores you, you know." Jen brushes it off as a completely harmless crush (oh, I see, sort of like what you had on Dawson, Cliff, Vincent and Ty, then? That's a nasty thing for her to say), but Miss Freckling insists it's more than that. "He talks about you non-stop. Your presence in his life has awakened him somehow. It's quite special. Though my concern is the sentiment's not mutual?"
Jen tells her that would be correct. Miss Freckling sighs. "I had a beau once. Heir to a mattress fortune. Beautiful man. I was 17 ... we courted ... he asked me to marry him. I remember it like yesterday. He took off his hat, got down on one knee. It was at his mother's grave site on the anniversary of her death." (Gee, that's romantic!) Apparently, Jen shares my distaste. "What, he proposed to you at a cemetery?"
Miss Freckling nods. "Looking back, I ... I should've run from there screaming like a woman from a burning house." "But you didn't." "No, I didn't. But the wedding never happened, anyway. He led me on, Jennifer. Played me for a fool. And then he ran off to California with the girl who'd sold him his Cadillac. But the point is, the heart is a fragile thing. Break it too badly, and it might well never recover." (Oh God ... does this mean I'm gonna be Miss Freckling in about 50 years time?)
Inspired by the pep talk, Jen heads out to the greenhouse, where she finds Henry gazing at the flowers. He points out one in particular. "She calls it the Spotted Heart. It's her most sacred blossom. Took her over 15 years to breed it correctly." "It's older than you are," Jen smiles (Okay, NOT necessary, thank you very much! Ugh. What does Henry want with her?)
Henry shifts his gaze from the flower to Jen. "The world's most beautiful things are." Plucking up courage, he leans in to kiss her but she pulls away. "Henry ..." Poor Henry looks utterly defeated. "I thought we were having fun?" he says in a timid voice. "We are," Jen agrees, "But not like that." "You asked me to come with you tonight," Henry says, confused. "Doesn't that count for something?" Jen tells him it counts for them becoming friends.
"Jen, I'm ... I think I'm in love with you," Henry blurts out. Selfishly, she dismisses his declaration. "Henry, you're not in love with me." "You can't say that," Henry insists. "How do you know what I feel?" (Good point) "You don't even know me," Jen tells him. "How could you possibly be in love with me?" (Admittedly, another good point)
"Because," Henry maintains. "I just ... I am." "I wish it was that simple," Jen smiles. "It is that simple," he replies. "If it's our age you're worried about, we're not ... we're not even two years apart. It's nothing." "Right now, it's everything, Henry." Jen sighs. "Do you know how much is gonna happen to you in the next two years if you do them right? Your heart is gonna swell and break a hundred times before you turn 16." (Again, thanks for the maturity lesson, Ms. Been There, Done That. Speaking from experience, I gotta admit I agree with her basic message, but she sure does sound more than a smidge condescending)
Good for Henry, he actually finds the balls to stand up to her. "And how does that make me any less ready for you now?" he demands. "I can still care about you more than anyone ever has." "No offense," Jen smiles sadly, "But that's not saying much." (Did you hear that, boys and girls? It's the sound of the smallest violin in the world playing) Henry asks her for a shot, in that case. "What do you have to lose?"
As I identified with Pacey's succumbing to One Last Time For Old Time's Sake with Andie, I can also identify with what Jen tells Henry next (though I still don't like the manner in which she tells him): "Listen, Henry, what you need right now is somebody who not only understands what you're going through, but who can also go through it with you. And believe me, Henry, everything that you haven't done, I have."
"Except fall in love," Henry counters. "You haven't done that, or else you'd have someone. But you don't. Which leads me to believe that everything you think you know about love is questionable. And as long as it is, you can't tell me I'm not the one for you." (Hear, hear, Henry!) Jen shakes her head. "There's something you should know about me, Henry, something that I'm only starting to understand. Until I can learn to look at myself without judgment or condemnation, you're right: I'm not ready for you. Or for anybody." That's it, poor old Henry's finally conceded defeat. "You know, what you just said, about my heart breaking a hundred times? Well, there goes number one." He walks off.
Inside, Dawson and Gale are discussing her accidental revelation. "I'm just sorry you didn't feel you could tell me," Dawson says, sounding more like a parent than a child. Dejected, Gale asks how a mother tells her son, "whom she's supposed to be teaching to dream," that she failed at her own? Dawson tells her she didn't fail, and moreover, she doesn't look old, she looks great. Then he gets down to the real nitty gritty. "Now, as for coming home ..."
Gale's on to him, though. "Sweetheart, I have my reasons why I don't want to race back to Capeside." Dawson nods. "And that's between you and Dad and I don't want to get in the middle, but --" "-- But you think that I should talk to him, don't you?" she finishes for him. Dawson suggests she could just use a friend like him at this point, but she tells him it isn't that easy, that there's too much history there. "But there's no law saying that you can't, you know, lean on him a little," he suggests. "Just ... tell him the truth, Mom. What's the worst that could happen?" Gale gives him a small, sad smile. "He could help me. We could become friends again." "Ha," Dawson returns the smile. "God help us."
After the sting of Pacey's rejection, Andie storms over to Joey's, where she unleashes on her fury on the wrong person. "You lied to me!" she exclaims, storming up and down the Potters' porch. "You told me one thing to my face and then you went right behind my back. I thought you were supposed to be my friend!" Joey says she is, but it doesn't appear that way from Andie's skewered perspective. "Oh, and you have such deep feelings for me that you went straight to Pacey and sabotaged everything."
"Pacey?" Joey repeats incredulously. "I haven't even talked to Pacey since you guys dropped me off." "And I'm supposed to believe that?" Andie badgers. Joey tells her it's the truth. "Oh, okay," Andie nods, "So it's just a coincidence that one minute we're together and the next he never wants to see me again?"
Joey's eyes widen. "When did this happen?" "Tonight," Andie informs her bitterly. "An hour ago. Right after you went and told him that I made up the entire story about Rob just to get him back." Hurricane Andie finally wears Joey down. "Look. Okay, Andie, I admit it ... it did cross my mind, but I didn't believe it. Not for a minute."
Andie doesn't believe her. "Is that right?" "Look," Joey tries again (the girl has the patience of a saint, I'd've decked the bitch by now) "I know you. I ... I know that you're a good person. You ... you would never do anything so hurtful and plainly wrong."
Now it's Andie who's worn down. She sits silently on a bench and sobs. Joey's even more confused now. "What? What did I say?" "Nothing," Andie cries. Joey gently tells Andie she can confide in her, but Andie shakes her head through her tears. "Look, you don't know me, Joey, okay? You don't know what I'm capable of when I set my sights on something."
It's as good as a confession, without saying the actual words. But, being the good person that she is, Joey takes the high road and doesn't condemn her friend or press the matter any further. "Andie, you're a stubborn and determined person. There's nothing wrong with that."
"No," Andie wails. "It's ... it's more. It's like I've got blinders on and all I can see is what's right in front of me, what I'm after. And everything on the edges just gets blocked out somehow." Joey asks what she's talking about, and Andie tells her it's Pacey. "I love him and I need him ... and the truth is ... I don't know what the truth is any more." She dissolves into another round of crying as Joey hugs her close and lets the tears fall on her shoulder. (Y'know, given scenes like this, I'm really interested to see how Joey justifies getting together with Pacey later on in the season)
A sad song by some folkie-indie female singer sets the backdrop for the next several scenes. I'm sure if I rummaged around the Web, I'd find out what it is, but I'm too lazy to bother. All I remember is, it's something about a mother and dying (a subject a little too close to my heart) and it made me cry. (n.b.: apparently, it's "Eve" by Chantal Kreviatchuk ... Kreviazthik ... Krivezchik ... oh, you know who I mean)
Anyway, in montage one, we see Jen walking inside the dying embers of the Gala. She notices Miss Freckling comparing make-up tips (kidding, I'm kidding ... yeesh) with the DQ's, then they all make a toast together. The next scene shows a very saddened Henry walking alone along the docks in the moonlight. This is followed by a shot of the Leery porch, where Mitch and Gale are sitting side-by-side on the swing, talking. Next, Pacey is shown sanding down his boat with reckless abandon, pouring his whole heart and soul into the project. Finally, we close right back where the song started: The Potter porch, where Joey puts a comforting arm around a crying, distraught Andie.
Fade to black ...