Author's Note: The beginning in Italics is meant to represent a flashback. In fact, any usually long amount of writing in Italics is a flashback. Otherwise, they're probably the thoughts of the characters. Oh, and if someone has any genius idea on how this story should go, please e-mail me. I'm running short on ideas, and right now, I'm only got vague ideas of where everything is going.
Feedback: It would be nice to have some. I'm a novice, so bear with me.
"Well, that was a satisfying outing. There's something to be said for the sport of bowling," said Pacey as they approached Joey's home. They both took a seat on the front steps of the porch, and Joey found herself staring at Pacey. In that brief moment, she noticed for the first time that he was beautiful.
It wasn't just his mischievous grin, or his magical eyes that never stayed the same color for more than a minute, but it was more than that. It was more like the way he made people feel; specifically, the way he made her feel. When she was with him, it was as if he told jokes just to hear her laughter, and he hung onto her every word like she was telling him the most fascinating story, when in reality she was telling him how horrible her day was.
No matter how corny it sounded, Joey would gladly admit that Pacey was her white knight this summer. He was the only reason she kept her sanity and stopped her from self-destructing under her own self-analysis. He was her savior.
Then he turned his head and their eyes met. "What are you staring at, Potter?"
"I'm…I'm just perplexed by anyone who could in all seriousness call bowling a sport. It's a bunch of middle-aged men rolling balls down lanes to hit pins. And in the event of a strike, some of them like to bust out in a little dance. Albeit, a victory dance is also characteristic of real athletes…bowling is not a sport. The worst injury one can incur is a wrist sprain or BBS," she explained. Joey felt rather pleased with her quick save.
"BBS?"
"Bowler's Butt Syndrome," said Joey matter-of-factly. His eyes questioned her, urging her to go on with her explanation. "I will not explain any further. If you can't get the gist of it, well, I don't think you deserve to know."
"That's such a load of shit," he said laughing at her.
"I think I'm offended," she said between giggles.
"Look, if it's covered by ESPN, it's a sport. The PBA is here to stay," said Pacey.
"Fine. I'm not going to argue with you anymore. It's a stupid conversation anyhow," said Joey. She stopped smiling as their eyes met again. Joey longed to reach out and touch his cheek, but she knew that would be crossing their boundaries of friendship. Their moment was lost as Pacey cleared his throat and he stood up.
"I think you should go inside now. It's almost one, and I told Bessie I'd have you inside before then," he said holding out his hand to her. Joey looked up at him, and she put her hand in his. He grabbed it firmly, and brought her to her feet. Joey's balance was lost, and she stumbled into him. For a moment, her forehead was pressed against his jaw, and she could feel his hot breath on her neck.
She let go of his hand and took a step back. He laughed nervously as he scratched his head. "Guess I don't know my own strength," he mumbled.
"Yeah," she breathed. She walked to the door, and slowly unlocked the front door. Joey turned back to look at him, and saw that hadn't moved a step. "Good night, Pace."
"Good night, Jo." Pacey dug his hands into his pockets, though the night was warm, and began his walk home. Joey promptly shut the door behind her, and sighed.
"It's all hormones. I'm a typical teenager. It makes perfect sense for me to be attracted to him," she repeated to herself. It's okay that I want to kiss him, and I want him to touch me. God, how could he possibly make me feel this way just being close to him? I've got to get my head checked, she thought silently.
She almost jumped out of her skin when she heard a light rapping on the door. Calming herself down, she smoothed her hair back and took a deep breath. Obviously Pacey had come back, but for what?
Joey tried to hide the disappointment and disdain she felt when she saw Dawson standing on her porch instead of Pacey. "Dawson, what are you doing here?"
"I…I know I'm probably the last person you ever wanted to see again, but I really need to talk to you," he said nervously.
"I have nothing to say to you, Dawson. Maybe with a little more time, I could possibly try to get over what you did, but…"
"I don't have time, Jo," he said cutting her off. Joey had to put her thought processes in reverse as she finally heard his words.
"What? What do you mean? We have all the time in the world. You live right there," she said gesturing across the creek. "Unless…"
"I've got three days until I move to Chicago," he said bluntly.
"Chicago? I don't…I know your mother got some job offer in Philly, but…What?" She was exasperated.
"She turned down the offer in Philadelphia for a better offer in Chicago," he said. "I don't want to move, but as my parents see it, I have no choice."
Joey stood frozen in her spot, and couldn't find the words to speak to him. He took this as a sign to continue talking to her. At least she hadn't slammed the door in his face like he had anticipated.
"They see Illinois as an opportunity to start off fresh. Forget Bob, forget infidelity, forget the trial separation…forget Capeside. I thought I owed it to you to tell you I was going. In my mind, we're still best friends, and that will never change," he sighed. She didn't respond. "Well, aren't you going to say anything?"
"I don't have anything to say. I'm…at a loss. I don't know how to feel. If the situation were different…if you never hurt me so much…and I got this news, I'd be wrapping my arms around you and telling you to never leave me. But now…I can't muster up the emotions to do anything."
Dawson tried to remain optimistic as he was rowing over here, but her words just shot down any hopes of reconciliation he entertained in his mind. His shut his eyes and nodded. As he opened them, he saw that she still wore the same look of apathy she had when she was listening to him tell her he was moving hundreds of miles away.
"Goodbye, Joey," he breathed. He thought, maybe he should reach over and try to hug her, but then he stopped himself, knowing she would only move away.
"Goodbye, Dawson." He took one last moment to memorize her features, then turned on his heels to leave. As soon as he was making his way down her dock, she thought maybe she should run after him and hug him. Maybe it was time to make amends, but then he was in his boat and already disappearing down the creek.
***** "Fancy meeting you here," she said stirring her drink slowly. She almost didn't recognize him; his appearance had changed. His once blond hair was now a light shade of brown, and instead of being clean-shaven, he now sported a rough amount of stubble. It could have been a product of laziness, but it wasn't characteristic of Dawson to be lazy. His build was much sturdier than she remembered, and his blue eyes seemed sharper than she remembered as well.
"Of all places, I didn't think I'd find you in New York," he said. "How are you doing?" He was almost hesitant as he spoke to her, he expected her to ream him, punch him or even walk away. But here she was, sitting calmly in front of him.
"As good as can be expected," she said slowly. She didn't want to be petty. She wanted to put everything in the past where it belonged. Although she'd spent the last decade thinking she never wanted to see him again, now that he was in front of her, she realized that in all that time she had missed him. "How about you? I thought you were in Chicago."
"My folks still are, but I moved to Los Angeles for college, and I never left," he said relaxing a bit. Then he chuckled. He swiveled his chair slowly, and looked at him.
"Please share with me what you find so amusing? I mean, if there's something funny, I think I should be let in on the joke. Any chance at laughter right now would brighten up my mood considerably," said Joey.
"I just find this incredibly odd. I mean, when I left Capeside twelve years ago…that night…you couldn't have been clearer that you didn't care if I lived or died. And here we are now, having a tense conversation? Does this make any sense to you? It sure doesn't play right in my mind."
Joey shut her eyes, and bit back any mean comment she had on the tip of her tongue. "Look Dawson, I'm trying not to be a bitch right now. I'm in a foul mood, and I don't want to take it out on you. In all honesty, I want us to talk like any two friends would."
"Friends??" he asked skeptically.
"Let me lay it on the table for you, Dawson. I think it may be to your benefit that I'm in a blunt mood. I hated you before you left Capeside. I hated you after you left Capeside. For the last decade I've convinced myself that I never wanted to see you again, or at least I was indifferent to your existence. Yet, in this moment, I realize that I've missed you. I've missed my friend. As strange as it sounds that my emotions can change this quickly, they have. I never could stay mad at you very long."
"I don't know how your timetables work, but I think twelve years is a helluva long time to be mad at someone," said Dawson, earning a glare from Joey. As soon as he realized she was glaring at him though, he lifted his hands up in surrender and smiled. "I've missed you too, and you don't know how happy it makes me to hear you say that."
"Dawson Leery, making amends with you just might be the highlight of my evening," she said before she took a sip of her drink.
"Would it be all right if I asked what was wrong?"
"I think we should keep it to the basics right now," said Joey gently. "Immersing another person into my warped life doesn't really appeal to me right now."
"I can accept that. Keep it to the basics, right? So what do you do now, Jo? Are you an up-and-coming lawyer in a lucrative firm? Maybe a talented surgeon? What field have you graced your presence with?" he asked.
"Food services. I am a restaurateur," she replied. Joey noted the look of astonishment on his face. "I know, I know. After all the bitching I did working at the Icehouse, I should have avoided owning a restaurant like the Bubonic plague."
"Yeah, I guess it does register at a high shock value in my mind, but none of that matters if you enjoy it. So how'd you get into it?"
"It used to be my friend's, but he decided to retire, and he sold the business to me at a reasonable cost. I finally finished paying him off a few months ago, and the place is still going strong," she said proudly. "And I do enjoy every bit of it. Maybe not the lease payments so much, but I enjoy the atmosphere. It always makes me think of Bessie."
"How long has it been since you've visited good old Capeside, anyhow?"
"Too long to remember," she sighed. Taking another sip of her drink, she looked at Dawson out of the corner of her eye. "So what about you? I'm guessing you're some big time director in Tinsel Town? You're probably here on location shooting your next blockbuster."
"If I were a big time director, you wouldn't have to ask, you'd be reading my name in some newspaper by now," he snorted. Taking a sip of his own drink to whet his palate, he sighed. "I am, believe it or not, a child psychiatrist."
At this revelation, Joey couldn't help but laugh. The idea seemed almost absurd, yet fitting.
"You're right, I can't believe it."
"Well, I figured, after years of psycho-analyzing everything, and angsting over every situation in my life, it was about time I gave someone else the chance to talk, and take my turn listening. I just joined a private practice, and I couldn't possibly be more stressed out." He ended his spiel with a chuckle as he rubbed his tired eyes.
"Where does coming to New York fit into your life then? You aren't considering moving here, are you?"
"As tempting as that sounds, I'm here visiting my in-laws," said Dawson. Joey didn't seem all too surprised by this. Dawson always struck her as the type that would settle down early in life and create the perfect family, complete with an amiable wife, two kids and a golden retriever. She once wanted to be a part of that dream, but now, she could hardly see any prospects of marriage in her future.
"And you're sitting here in a bar, close to ten o'clock at night?"
"I despise her father, and the sentiment is mutual. Emily assured me that he hated anyone with a penis, and I took his little girl away, to boot. We're going to see them tomorrow, so I'm just mentally preparing myself for this visit," he grumbled. "But, if all goes well, I should be out of here and back home within the week."
"Good game plan, Dawson. I'm sure being inebriated when you see your father-in-law will do wonders for his opinion of you. So how long have you been married?"
"One year last week," he said with a small smile. "She's incredible."
"I don't doubt that. Nothing but the best for you," she said softly. "Hey, you almost beat Jen to the punch. She got married a mere two months before you."
"Jen? Wow. I guess you still keep in touch with her, don't you?"
"Yeah, she's my best female friend right now. We're like this," said Joey crossing her middle and index fingers. "It's something I never would have predicted." Dawson nodded in acknowledgement and smiled.
"That goes double for me. And what about Pacey and Andie? Did they run off and get married in Vegas?"
"Far from it. Andie never came back after sophomore year, and she never did keep in contact with anyone but Jack. As for Pacey, he's my degenerate roommate," she informed him. It was Dawson's turn to laugh out loud. "It's not as volatile as it sounds. We get along swimmingly. After dealing with each other in college, everything afterwards seems simple in comparison."
Dawson looked down at his watch and then back up at Joey. "As much as I'd like to continue this conversation, I told Emily I'd back by ten."
"Sure. It was…good talking to you, Dawson," she said, smiling genuinely. He handed her a business card, and she ran her fingers over the simple black print. Dawson Leery, M.D. Joey reached into her purse and dug out a pen. She took a napkin a scrawled both her home and work number before handing it to him. "If you have time to reconnect with some old friends after you see your in-laws, call me."
"I'll be sure to do that," he said before folding the napkin, and sliding it into his back pocket. Then he reached over and gave her a light peck on her cheek and hugged her. "Thank you, Jo."
"You're welcome, Dawson." He pulled away, and gestured a wave as he left the bar. Joey turned back to the bartender and sighed. "Dewars on the rocks, please."
As good as talking to Dawson felt, her mind was incredibly clouded with troubles. It didn't take a genius to figure out that she was raging with jealousy. She knew she shouldn't have been, especially since they made a pact that none of this would ever happen. They were best friends, friends with benefits, even, but they would never mix emotions with the sex. But Joey knew she had been lying to Pacey and herself from the very beginning.
