Joey stood silently, not acknowledging his presence. He moved up beside her and leaned on the railing, staring down into the water, wondering briefly what she saw in its depths.
"He got fifteen years. With good behavior, he'll be out in eight."
"With prison overcrowding, he'll be out in two."
"I hope he stays in there forever."
They resumed their silence, her gaze never leaving the rippling waves. Their elbows almost touched as he shifted slightly, looking at the fancy summer houses across the water.
"The night of the fire, my father hit me." There was no emotion in his voice. "I hit him back eventually. I just wanted to kick his ass for so many reasons. For insulting Andie, for being a dickhead, for telling me I needed to stay away from you…"
"Hasn't he been telling you that for years?"
"Just makes hanging out with you that much sweeter." He managed a brief smile that faded quickly. "You heard from him?"
"No."
"You want to?"
She shrugged, still not looking up. "Sometimes. Sometimes I want so badly to pick up the phone and hear his voice. But then I realize that, of all the possible things he could say, not one of them will ever be an apology."
"Is that what you want to hear?" He watched her shrug again. "What do you want him to apologize for, Jo?"
"That's the other problem." Her gaze finally shifted from the water to her own clasped hands. "I'm not sure. For making me do the right thing? For forcing me to make a choice? For thrusting me out of the illusion I'd built up around me? For making me walk in there wearing a wire when he could have done it? For my father being a drug dealer?" She laughed bitterly. "What else do you think I should blame him for?"
"Can you blame him for Andie's breakdown?"
"Sure. Anything else?"
"How about the fact that she's stopped writing me. Or, well, not stopped. But suddenly her heartfelt missives are more perfunctory emails." Pacey sighed. "I never thought I could hate summer so much."
"I know the feeling."
Pacey turned and leaned against the railing. "Only one more month."
"Any hope that we'll get so sick of one another that one of us will resort to murder?"
"I don't know, Jo. We might just be stuck with one another."
"That sucks."
"Yup."
Pacey heard the soft sigh and looked up, not surprised to see her. "What are you doing here?"
"Wanted to survey the wreckage." She kicked a burnt piece of wood, watching the darkness crumble to the ground. "What do you think they'll build here next? Another greasy spoon?"
"Probably a café catering to all the summer folks. High priced food with fancy names that, deep down, will be the same fried fish you served here at the Icehouse."
She smiled a little and sank down on the concrete next to him. "What about you? What brings you out here?"
"Nostalgia, I guess. This was the first place I ever took a girl on a date."
"What?" She raised an eye skeptically. "I don't recall you and Miss Jacobs sneaking furtively into the back booth."
"Not her." He blushed softly, turning away from her to hide the emotion she saw glinting in his eyes. "I think I was seven. Dana Cartle. You remember her?"
"Didn't her family move away in the third grade?"
"Yeah."
"Was that your fault?"
"Oh yeah, her dad found out she was dating a younger man and shipped her off to some other seaside town." He rolled his eyes. "We came here and had ice cream. Your mom served us and gave us what she called the best booth in the house. We had this gorgeous view of the water."
"Mom was a romantic at heart." Joey shifted then got to her feet, walking over to the railing, staring down into the water again. "Which is why she married him."
"And stayed with him."
"Do you ever wonder why your parents stay together?"
"All the time. Of course, I think my dad is a world-class dickhead, so I'm not the most impartial judge of character. I mean, obviously they liked each other enough to bring five kids into the world."
"You don't have to like someone to have sex with them."
He laughed and shook his head. "You don't believe that, Joey."
"I don't?"
"Nope. Because you're a romantic, just like your mom." Pacey got to his feet and walked to her side. "Sex for you is going to be this amazing event. When you're ready, it'll be special."
"I don't know." She smirked at the blue-green waves lapping against the wood. "The guy I've always imagined my first time being with is now the guy I'm supposed to be hating with every fiber of my being."
"But you don't?"
"I don't know." She sighed then looked at him, her eyes narrowed as if seeing him for the first time. "Things with Andie any better?"
"No."
"How lucky are we, Pace? We both have fathers on opposite sides of the law, but they're both bastards. We both have distant loves. And we both have communication problems with said loves." She kicked the railing. "Sucks to be us."
"That, my dear Joey Potter, it does."
A soft bell sounded in the distance and she sighed then smiled. "Hey, Pace?"
"Yeah?"
"You hear that?"
He listened then shrugged. "Sure. It's Harold's ice cream truck."
"Right." She grabbed his hand and tugged on it, pulling him in the direction of the sound. "If you buy me a cone, I promise I'll make sure you get the best table in the house."
"There isn't a house anymore, Jo."
She rolled her eyes at his fatalistic attitude. "There's a house, Pace. It just hasn't been built yet."
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