"Hey Potter."

Bessie looked up from her English book and made a face. "Hey, Doug."

"How goes the studying?"

She tossed the book on the grass in front of her. "I speak English. Shouldn’t that be good enough?"

He sank down on the ground beside her, picking up the textbook. "Why do you do that?"

"What?" She took the book from his hand and sighed. "Vent my frustrations on unassuming school property?"

"No, Bessie. Put yourself down."

"Asks the boy wonder." She smirked. "You forget, Douglas. We can’t all be Capeside’s golden child."

"Let’s not get carried away." He looked at her shyly. "You want help studying?"

"And what would I have to do for you?" She watched as he tried to look offended, smiling at his pathetic attempt. "Come on, Witter. I know you too well. There’s always a catch."

"Manual labor," he admitted with a grin. "Dad’s hosting the annual Capeside Policeman’s picnic this year. I got roped into helping out."

"You volunteered, in other words."

"Yeah."

"And why do you need my help?"

"Well," he looked down at the ground before turning his blue eyes on her. "I sort of volunteered us both."

"Why am I not surprised." Bessie sighed again and got off the ground. "You’re more trouble than you’re worth, Witter."

"Oh, and if you want to bring Joey, you can. Pacey and Dawson are supposed to be there too."

"Because I want the joy of looking after my eleven year old sister to go along with the agonizing torture of having to spend the day with you."

"I thought you liked spending the day with me."

"Only in your dreams." Bessie watched him stand, hoping that he wouldn’t notice the way she admired him. His body was well put together and completely off limits. They’d been friends for as long as she could remember – and even closer since she’d come one test away from failing English and biology and he’d been assigned as her tutor.

He never made her feel stupid, which was something she was grateful for. And, as distracting as he was when he lounged on the couch with her wearing tight jeans and a tight T-shirt, she was actually doing okay in all of her classes.

"Nightmares, maybe." He shouldered his backpack and started walking, falling in step with her easily. "So, you’ll help, right?"

"I suppose. I don’t have much else to do." She walked casually, her hand at her side, swinging in unison with his. She wondered sometimes, if he would ever reach out for it, wondered if he ever thought of her that way. Wondered if she was delusional for thinking someone like Doug Witter – handsome, smart, a guy with a real future, would ever look twice at someone like her. Bessie Potter, the girl from the wrong side of the creek. Underachiever, social outcast, one of the worst students ever known to frequent the halls of Capeside High. Right. She was exactly the kind of girl Doug would be looking for.

Frowning to herself, she pulled her hand back up to her chest, cradling her books against it. Doug watched her movements out of the corner of his eye, a soft sigh of disappointment leaving him, as she seemed to close up. "You need someone to pick you up?"

"Nah. We’ll manage." She cast another sidelong glance at him. "But…"

He grinned and looked her way. "What?"

"Well, I’ve got this paper to write for English."

"Yeah?"

"And to actually do a decent job on it, I probably should have read the book."

His grin widened into a smile. "Probably, Potter."

"It’s due tomorrow."

"What book?"

"The Great Gatsby." She stopped walking and faced him. "So, if you’re not busy…I’ll treat you to dinner at the Ice House and you can fill me in on all of the intricacies of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s dazzling masterpiece."

"One of these days, Bessie, you’re actually going to need some of this knowledge."

"So I’ll have to keep you around." She looked toward the school as the bell rang. "Okay. I’m off to fail another quiz. I’ll see you tonight?"

"Sure." Doug watched her walk away, taking a deep breath. Bessie Potter was off limits. She was his friend, and dating friends was a recipe for trouble.

She walked into the building, turning at the last minute to wave at him. He waved back and forced himself to head toward his car. Off limits.

Which made him want her even more.

"Do you think fratricide is still illegal?" Doug sank down onto a stool at the counter. Bessie turned and smiled, setting an iced tea in front of him. "Because I think it should be acceptable in the more civilized states."

"Pacey driving you crazy?"

"Pacey always drives me crazy. I swear, the kid’s got a knack for finding trouble. He’s like a magnet for every wrong thing that can happen. I’d say he does it on purpose, but I don’t think anyone has that big of a death wish."

"What did he do this time?"

"What didn’t he?" Doug sighed and absentmindedly stirred sugar into his tea. "He got in a fight with Dad. He dropped the packages of hamburgers on the ground outside the house, a large number of which were promptly eaten by the neighbor’s dog. He nearly fell on the cake and he misplaced my father’s gun. Actually, I don’t think he misplaced it so much as hid it after all the other stuff happened."

"Your dad’s kind of hard on him."

"He’s hard on all of us." Doug’s face closed up for a minute and he looked down at the menu. "Some of us just know the best way to deal with it."

"You can’t all be the number one son."

"I don’t want to be the number one son," Doug stated flatly. "I just want a little peace."

Bessie moved away from him, grabbing her order pad. "I’ll be right back." She walked over to a table, helping some people who had come in right after Doug. He refused to watch her, refused to let himself. It was just stupid to wear his heart out on her.

"You ready to order?"

He looked up, surprised at the man standing in front of him. "What?"

"Order?" He was a tall, black man that Doug had never seen before. "That’s what people do in restaurants, or so I’m told. You come, you read the menu, you order from it and hope to get something resembling the item described. It usually doesn’t work that way, but that’s because advertising is misleading. So, would you like me to recommend the most misleading or the least?"

"Who are you?"

"Bodie." He held out his hand. "And you’re Doug, right?"

"Doug. Right."

Bodie grinned. "Nice to meet you. The kid, she talks about you all the time."

"Kid?" Doug was having difficulty following the conversation. "Joey?"

"Joey? Nah. Bessie. She talks about you. You’re the guy who’s helping her in school, right?"

"Right. Who are you again?" Doug looked over at Bessie, laughing with Pacey’s friend Dawson’s parents. "And how do you know Bessie?"

"I work here. I’m here for the summer while I’m on a break from cooking school. The Potters hired me to help out. And I know Bessie because she’s the Potter’s daughter."

"Right." Doug looked back at him. "What?"

"Never mind. You hungry?"

"Yeah." Doug tried to ignore the look he saw Bodie give Bessie. It was a hungry look, a soft longing that he didn’t like. Didn’t want to see. "I’ll have some clam chowder."

"That it?"

"Yeah." Bessie walked up and sat beside him. "I get off work in a half hour. You’ll stick around?"

"How long has he been working here?"

"About two weeks."

"Why didn’t you mention him?"

Bessie felt the beginning of a smile lift the corners of her mouth. "Because I didn’t think you’d care. He’s just summer help."

"Do you like him?"

"He’s a college guy, Doug. I’m not college guy material." She bumped her arm against his. "Heck, so far I haven’t even been high school guy material." Sighing, she hopped off the stool. "So, where do you want to study great literature?"

"We could go by your house. Sit on the dock?"

"Could." She nodded and picked up her order pad as more guests walked in. "Joey’s at Dawson’s all night so she won’t be around to bother us. You wanna stick around, or you want to just meet me there?"

"I’ll wait." He noticed Bodie coming out of the kitchen. "Besides, I’ve got to sample the new cook’s haute cuisine."

Bodie grinned. "Yeah. I’m all cordon bleu at Capeside." He set the bowl in front of Doug with a flourish. Waiting until Bessie had moved off out of earshot, he leaned closer to Doug. "So, she your girlfriend?"

"No." Doug dunked his spoon into the thick chowder. "And I really don’t feel like talking about Potter with you."

"Potter?" Bodie nodded. "You’ve got it bad, don’t you?"

Sighing, Doug faced the other man. "Is there some point to this? Because I’m trying to eat in peace. If I wanted to be annoyed to death while I ate, I’d be at home. So you think I could just enjoy my soup without your hovering?"

Bodie spread his arms in surrender. "Sure. Just…well, you probably don’t want to hear it."

"Hear what?"

"She’s a pretty girl, Doug. It’s summertime. That means all those college boys swoop down on the local populace, find the pretty girls and steal ‘em away from the hometown boys."

"You’re a college boy." His voice was tight, cold and controlled as he met the other man’s eyes. "Aren’t you, Bodie?"

Bodie’s smile took on a knowing smirk. "Yes sir, I am."

Doug stood by the front door of the Ice House, watching as Bessie tugged her apron over her head. She was laughing at something Bodie was saying, waving goodbye to her parents as she grabbed her books from the counter.

Great.

The college guy makes her laugh, and he was stuck teaching her the classics. He was beginning to resent being her best friend, being the guy without mystery. She turned and saw him, smiling as she started in his direction.

"Hey, Witter." She linked her arm through his. "Shall we go delve into the roaring 20’s?"

"You actually know when the story’s set? I’m proud of you, Potter." He led her to the truck he’d borrowed from his father and opened the door for her. "This may be easier than I thought."

"I wouldn’t count on it." She snapped her seatbelt in place and looked at him through lowered lashes. "I have plans of keeping you up all night, Mr. Witter."

"Really?" He smiled, a hungry edge to it. "Should I call my parents and let them know that I’m spending the night with you?"

"How do you think that would go over with the local constabulary?" Bessie flipped through her copy of The Great Gatsby. "I tried reading it this afternoon. It’s…not my thing."

"What is your thing?"

"You’ll laugh."

"I won’t laugh."

"You will." She shrugged. "I’m more the torrid romance novel type. You know, the kind of thing they make cheesy movies of the week about, only with all the sex happening off camera? That’s what I read."

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Really." She sighed and looked out her window. "You disappointed?"

"Never."

She laughed softly as he pulled up beside their house. "My dad’s out of town tonight. Do you want to go inside or do you want to go down to the dock?"

"Depends. Do you trust yourself with me alone in the house?" He turned off the truck and put his hand down on the seat, feeling a hot rush run through him as his hand brushed hers. "Or are you going to give yourself over to one of those torrid romance novel moments and seduce me?"

"You really should see someone about these delusions you’re having, Doug." Bessie pulled her hand from his, trying to ignore the blood pounding through her system, throbbing in her ears. "They have very skilled doctors to address just these problems."

"Very funny, Potter." He grabbed her books as well as his own and got out of the truck. She unlocked the door to the house.

"You want anything?"

You, his body cried out silently. He shook his head. "No. I’m good."

"Sure? I’m going to have a Coke."

"No. I’m good, really." He watched as she bent over, grabbing a soft drink out of the refrigerator. He barely suppressed the low groan as her jeans pulled over the soft curves of her body. Bessie looked back, feeling his hot gaze. Her eyes met his and held, and she turned slowly. Setting the can on the table, she walked silently back to the couch and stood in front of him.

Doug kept his eyes locked on hers. She moved even closer, straddling his legs before sinking down onto his lap. There was electricity in the air, the charged atmosphere around them crackling. "Doug?" Her voice came out trembling and throaty, seductive.

"Y…yeah, Potter?" He raised his hand, surprised to find it shaking. He pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear before burying his fingers in the dark mass.

"Tell me about The Great Gatsby."

He opened his mouth, unsure of what words to form. She gave him no chance, her lips finding his, her tongue sliding into his mouth as her hands raked through his short, dark locks. He gasped; taking her breath from her as his hands curved around her hips and pulled her hard against his body.

Her fingertips scraped his scalp, tilting his head back so that she could control their kiss, control him. He moved his hips, falling into a natural rhythm as he ground up into her, the fabric whisper of denim on denim filling the silence.

Doug pulled back, searching her eyes. Bessie was gasping for air and control, finding neither as he looked at her. She could read the desire in his eyes, see the feeling there as he let his hands move up her torso until they cupped her breasts through her thin shirt. He cleared his throat quietly. "Bessie?"

She kissed him again, softly this time. Sliding off his lap, she noted all of his reactions to her. The disappointment as she pulled away, the desire as he looked at her. The obvious arousal that she’d left him with. He bent his head, hiding from her gaze.

One kiss.

One amazing kiss and it had changed everything. Never mind that she had instigated it. Never mind that he hadn’t refused. It changed everything. One kiss and he’d just lost his best friend.

"Doug?"

He wouldn’t raise his eyes. "What?"

Bessie reached down for his hand and tugged on it, forcing him to stand. "Come on."

"Where are we…?" He followed her lead as she walked from the room toward the hall.

"I’d like to study in private." She stopped and met his eyes. Everything he’d always wanted to see was there. Everything he was afraid to see. "I was hoping you could…explain the book to me in a little more detail."

He hadn’t finished nodding before she’d closed her bedroom door behind them.

He’d been in her room more times than he could remember. He’d spent a hundred Saturdays next to her on her bed, trying to explain osmosis and dissection. He’d sat beside her memorizing vocabulary words. But he’d never honestly expected to be here with her.

Not like this.

She leaned back against the door, watching him flounder. He turned to her, searching for some sort of guidance in the darkness. The soft glow of the moon lit the room with a silvery kind of menace and he took a tentative step toward her.

"I…" He took a deep breath and let it out. "Bessie, I…"

"Shh." She stepped forward and pressed a finger to his lips. She shook her head as she kept moving, stopping only when she was pressed up against him. She stared into his wide blue eyes. "We talk all the time, Doug. Couldn’t you just kiss me now?"

He nodded once before wrapping his arms around her, meeting her lips with his own. His whole body was on fire with longing, aching from this moment of fantasy coming true. Her body was soft and pliant, filling his roaming hands as they explored her body, finding the curve of her hips and the soft swell of her buttocks. He groaned, bringing her body closer, needing to find relief for the relentless ache.

Bessie kissed him, her tongue delving into his mouth, tasting him. She moved slowly, guiding him with small steps to the edge of the bed. The back of Doug’s legs hit the mattress and he stumbled. Bessie held him, not letting him fall.

Breaking the kiss, she helped him sink down onto the bed. Going down on her knees, she smiled up at him. He was trembling, his whole body shaking. She felt the corner of her mouth twitch with a soft smile. "Have you…?"

His mouth tightened into a thin line and he looked away. "No."

"Really?"

"No, I’m lying. Because I heard being inexperienced is a big turn on for girls." He could feel the telltale blush staining his cheeks and he hated it. He hated her.

She grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. Her own eyes were wide with wonder. "It is."

"What?"

She kissed him softly, barely brushing his lips with her own. "A turn on."

He bit the inside of his lower lip, a million questions in his eyes. "Have you?"

"Once or twice."

"Anyone I know?"

"College boy. Last summer," she shrugged. "I’m not exactly proud of it. Wasn’t a big Dirty Dancing moment, if that’s what you’re wondering."

"I’m sorry."

She pulled back, "Sorry?"

"That it wasn’t perfect. You deserve perfect." He leaned toward her, his breath warm as it caressed her face. "You deserve everything, Potter."

"You gonna give it to me?"

He nodded, wondering when the shaking had stopped or even if it had. He still felt as if he was sitting on a roller coaster, poised at the top of a huge hill, waiting to tumble over the edge. He brushed her lower lip with his thumb then kissed her, catching it between his teeth for a short time as he pulled away. "I figure you owe me a little tutoring for all the work I’ve done with you."

She grinned and the tension that had permeated the evening seemed to dissipate into the soft scent of desire. Her hand moved and rested on his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart. She could feel the tight tip of his nipple through the thin material of his shirt and she let her thumb swipe over it.

Doug’s whole body seemed to tighten as she touched him, her whole hand smoothing down his chest. She pushed lightly and he lay back on the bed. Bessie stood up and looked down on him, her eyes warm and full of something he didn’t understand, but he did recognize.

Her hands went to her shirt and she pulled it off, tossing it aside. Her fingers seemed to shake, although he couldn’t tell if it was real or just some strange reflection of the moon’s light. He lay there, watching her, wanting her as she carefully unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor.

He sat up then, no longer content to simply watch her. His hands curved around her back and he pulled her to him, placing soft kisses on her abdomen. She smelled different than he’d expected.

At school, she always had this soft scent of vanilla or something he could never quite place. Gentle and unassuming, with just a hint of audacity. At work, she smelled of vinegar and spices, fish and oil. Now, alone with her in her room, she smelled of warmth and passion all tinged with the scent that he could only define as her. He ran his tongue along the waistband of her jeans and couldn’t help but smile as she let out a soft gasp.

She smelled of sex and passion, heat and desire. He knew, somewhere deep inside him, that when he thought of her, when he thought of sex this would be the memory that pervaded his senses. This would be the defining moment.

His teeth caught the denim and he freed the button from its fabric prison. Wanting to see her, he pulled away slightly and glanced up. Her eyes were half closed, hazy with lust. Her hands were on his shoulders and he liked to think he was supporting her. Leaning back into her, he kissed the valley between her breasts before finally allowing himself to turn his attention to the creamy flesh he’d fantasized about.

His tongue traced the side of her breast, curving over the swell until he found the hard tip. He guided it into his eager mouth, sucking lightly at the taut flesh. Bessie whimpered softly as he nibbled at the tender skin, his teeth tugging gently.

Doug closed his eyes, his mind going a million miles an hour, slamming into the presence of her with so much force it left him winded. He released the nipple, placing a light kiss on the swollen tip before kissing his way to the other, lavishing the same attention on it.

Bessie’s fingers dug into his shoulders as she struggled to remain standing. Her legs felt weak and trembly, not strong enough to support her. She made a soft sound and Doug raised his head. His lips seemed swollen in the moonlight and she touched them with tentative fingers. "Doug?"

He seemed to know what she wanted, what she was asking. He guided her back a few steps, his hands held tightly in hers. He stood; surprised he still could and walked around to the side of the bed, pulling her along behind him. They stared at each other for a long moment, their eyes already making love. Finally, Bessie broke his gaze and grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt, tugging it from the waistband of his pants.

He brushed her hand aside and pulled his shirt off, flushing as her eyes devoured him. He knew that he looked okay; he worked out to stay in shape for the inevitable fitness test for the police force. But her eyes on him meant more than anything else. Every muscle seemed to cry out for her touch, not caring about a future. Her hand returned to him, back to the smooth skin of his stomach.

She’d seen him topless before. They’d spent hours at the beach, flirting and playing. But something about the moon on his skin, the silence in the bedroom, broken only by their ragged breathing made it new. She ran her hand over his stomach, up his chest to the hard nipple she’d touched through the material of his shirt.

Doug caught her hand and held it there. He just looked at her unable to think or wonder at what they were about to do. Slowly, carefully, nervously, he guided her hand down his stomach again until it rested just above his jeans. Bessie smiled languidly, her eyes following her hand down. Even in the pale light, she could see his arousal, could sense his need. She brought her other hand up and carefully unfastened his belt.

The hiss of leather as it slid from the belt loops sent shivers through both of them. She let it drop to the floor and moved her hands to slip the button free. Once that was done, she paused briefly just toying with the tongue of the zipper. He was watching her so intently, his whole body tense. She took a deep breath and slid it down, the metallic rasp a cacophony in the quiet room.

Bessie placed a soft kiss along Doug’s collarbone; her tongue tracing the hard line as her fingers pried the denim apart. Opening his jeans, she smoothed her hands to his hips and pushed the material down.

Doug’s knees trembled as her hands came back up, slipping inside the legs of his boxers to caress his hard thighs. "Oh God, Bess," he breathed, grabbing her hand and pushing them behind her back.

Her chest brushed his, taut nipples and smooth skin slipping and moving together. He nibbled her earlobe, whispering her name. Releasing her hands, he unzipped her jeans and started to push them down. Kissing his way along her body, his hands guided the denim down her long legs.

He licked the golden skin between her breasts down to her navel. He paused there, inhaling the sharp scent of her excitement.

Bessie’s hand wove through his hair, tilting his head back. His blue eyes were smoky with desire, dark with wanting her. She held a hand out to him and he stood.

He could feel the silk of her panties against his erection, even through the material of his boxers. Taking the hand she still held, Bessie guided it between them, pressing his fingertips to the damp fabric between her thighs.

Doug groaned, rubbing the material carefully, curling his finger slightly to put pressure on the sensitive skin beneath.

"Oh," she gasped, quivering from his touch.

Doug stepped back and looked at her for a long minute, memorizing her curves with a lover’s eye. He hooked one finger between her stomach and the thin, silken panties. With a sly smile, he tugged them down, letting his finger brush the downy hair before he let gravity take over and rid her of them.

Bessie put one knee on the bed, then slid back, laying herself out in front of him like a sacrifice.

Doug shed his boxers quickly, eagerly. He wanted – needed – to feel her, needed to know the sensation of his body on hers. He lay beside her, one hand on her shoulder as she turned on her side to face him. He was grateful for the semi-darkness, sure that he was blushing from head to toe. He'd never gone further than kissing any girl and yet here he was, alone with the woman who had captured his heart. "Bess?"

She shook her head and leaned into him, inhaling him as she brought her lips to his. Her hand moved to his hip and she made small circles on his skin. Her lips toyed with his, small unfulfilling kisses that promised everything and delivered nothing. Her fingers continued moving as she wriggled closer, the tips of her nipples just brushing the skin of his chest.

Moving down his thigh, Bessie wrapped her hand around his cock, holding him loosely as he tensed. Doug bit his lip hard, struggling for control. Nothing in his fantasies had ever come close to the feel of her skin on him. He thrust forward slightly, forcing her hand along the length of him. Bessie smiled and tightened her grip, moving along him of her own volition.

A low moan rumbled through Doug as he reached down to stop her hand. He disengaged her grip and used her hand as leverage to push her onto her back. She looked up at him with heated eyes. Shivering from the look, he kissed her stomach then her navel, working his way down to the tangle of hair between her thighs. His breath stirred the silken strands and Bessie parted her legs involuntarily, her own impulses taking over.

Doug released her hand and moved between her spread legs. He glanced up at her, watching the moonlight play over her skin, caressing her in a way he couldn’t. He let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes, settling on his stomach.

His hands shook as he reached out and parted the swollen lips of her labia, carefully separating them. The hard button of her clitoris was swollen with anticipation, flushed red. Her skin glistened in the pale light, tempting him. Moving forward slightly, he let his tongue brush over the nub of her clit. Bessie hissed, arching off the bed then settling back, her body begging him for more.

Doug captured the tip between his lips, sucking gently. The tip of his tongue danced over the sensitized surface, forcing gasps and moans from the wriggling girl surrounding him. His thumbs held the dark pink flesh apart and he very carefully let one finger run along the length of her opening.

She was barely breathing; harsh, uneven pants answering his ministrations. Gliding his finger over her once more, he let his teeth barely scrape the skin he was suckling as he slipped a finger inside her welcoming heat.

Bessie’s nails bit into his shoulder as he penetrated her, moving his fingers in a smooth, slow rhythm. He listened to her reactions, gauging his movements by her body’s responses. She was a mass of movement, thrashing and moaning as he filled her with another finger, carefully stroking the slick walls of her willing body.

"Oh…oh Doug," she breathed and he felt the warm rush of moisture as she seemed to collapse around him. He stilled his fingers for a long second before moving them again. She shuddered and ground down against his hand and tongue until she cried out once more and came to a tremulous stop.

He moved back, releasing her reluctantly. Bessie’s eyes were closed, a sated half-smile on her face. He knelt between her legs, wanting her more than he’d ever wanted anything. "Bessie?"

She opened her eyes languorously. "Yes?"

His heart felt as if it might burst with longing. She was giving him the look he’d longed to see for as long as he could remember. A look of love and lust and wanting and…everything. It was all there and more. "I…this is…I…"

She tilted her head, confusion joining all the other emotions until she realized what he wanted. "Oh. I’ve…I’ve got something." She twisted slightly so that she could reach her bedside table and pulled open the drawer. Digging around, she found what she wanted and handed him a small, silver square.

Doug stared at it with a mixture of relief and dread. Somewhere inside himself, he’d almost hoped that she wouldn’t be prepared so that this moment could be perfect without the fear of doing everything horribly wrong.

"You’ve never…?" She nodded and sat up without waiting for his answer. Taking the packet from him, she opened it carefully and removed the condom. "It’s easy. They made it that way, since it’s normally the stupid high school kids that have sex instead of studying."

"So why are we here?" He tried to joke, but the words sounded strange, even to his own ears.

"Because I may not have all the book learning, but I know a good thing when I see it." She smiled at him as she placed the condom on the head of his penis. "You just put it over the tip." Her voice dropped into some low, seductive place he didn’t even know she possessed. "And you…" She demonstrated without words, sliding the sheath over him, her hand stroking him as she did so. The slippery texture of the lubricant coupled with the warmth of her hand sent another rush of blood directly to the already hard shaft and he moaned. "And Doug?"

She lay back, her body inviting. "Ye…yes?"

"You’re a very good thing." Her hand grasped him once again, guiding him to her opening. She pressed the tip of his erection past the swollen flesh and arched her hips slightly. He let his hands fall to her hips and he grabbed them, easing his way inside her.

He wasn’t sure who made the noise, the soft whimpering sound of fulfilled longing, but he felt it to his core as she surrounded him, enveloped him. She was wet and slick, warm and willing as he pushed into her, the tight muscles clamping around him. He placed his hands on either side of her and rolled his hips, getting used to being held so completely.

Bessie bent her knees, wanting him deeper. He seemed to understand instinctively and he pushed into her, harder and faster, pumping his hips with hers. They thrust together, meeting and demanding with their bodies. Muscles contracted and tightened, skin grew slick with exertion and excitement, limbs intertwined and ached with built up tension.

She ground against him, thrusting hard as she felt another orgasm building in her. She wanted to drown with him in pleasure. Doug panted harshly, his fingers digging into the comforter on her bed as he buried himself inside her, the hot rush of his orgasm overtaking him.

Bessie felt the heat through the thin latex and cried out her impatience. Doug kept thrusting, sitting up slightly and grabbing her hips once again. He pulled her hard against him, using just the muscles in his thighs to control their strokes. She threw her head back and screamed silently as he pushed her over the edge.

Neither of them moved, save for the trembling aftereffects. Finally, Doug eased out of her, careful to hold onto the condom. He disposed of it quickly, taking the tissues that Bessie handed him and wrapping it up before he tossed it in her trash can. Done, he stood by the side of the bed and looked down at her.

"What now?" he asked softly.

"What do you want to happen now?" Her voice had a certain edge to it, a fear that always laced her tone when she was nervous or scared.

"I want to do that again, a hundred times." He grinned and sat down beside her. "Maybe not all tonight, mind you." His hand moved to her stomach, stroking it softly. "I…I…you don’t…have a boyfriend, do you?"

She laughed. "No. No boyfriend."

"Not that college guy at the Ice House?"

"Bodie?" She wrinkled her brow. "Nah. He’s not my type."

"Really?"

"Yeah." She grabbed his hand and pulled him down so that he was lying on top of her. "I like my men in high school."

"So there’s a guy you like?"

"There’s a guy," she nodded as he traced her lips with a gentle finger.

His blue eyes met hers and he got lost in the riot of color. "Anyone I know?"

"Maybe."

"But he’s not your boyfriend?"

She looked at him through narrowed eyes. "No. He’s not."

Doug nodded and grinned as he bent his head to kiss her. "Do you want him to be?"

Joey stomped hard on Pacey’s back. She glared down at him. "Stand still," she whispered vehemently.

He turned his head and gave her a dirty look, but stopped moving. His hands and knees sank into the cool dirt outside the Potter’s house and, more specifically, outside Bessie’s window. "What’s going on up there, Potter?"

"Nothing." She jumped down and slumped to the ground beside him. "They’re asleep, papers and stuff all over." She sighed, disappointed. She’d hoped that Bessie and Doug would be doing…something. She wanted to catch her sister doing something wrong to pay her back for telling their parents that Joey had a crush on Dawson.

Plus, if Bessie liked Doug, she might marry him, and then Pacey would be her brother. Which, after she married Dawson, would be perfect. The three musketeers, together forever.

She picked up a clump of dirt and broke it apart in her hand. Pacey’s parents had been too busy to pick him up at Dawson’s, so he’d rowed over with her to get a ride home with Doug. She looked up as Pacey stood. "What’cha doin’?"

Pacey grabbed the windowsill and used his arm strength to pull himself up. His bare toes pressed hard against the wall for leverage and he peered into the room.

Sleeping? What kind of wimp was his brother, anyway? Even at eleven, Pacey was pretty sure that when you spent the night alone with a teenage girl, you didn’t sleep. His eyes adjusted to the dim light just as his brother pulled himself up on one elbow and looked down at Bessie. His eyes seemed different as he watched her, his hand stroking her stomach.

Pacey tilted his head slightly as Doug leaned forward and kissed her. Bessie’s hand snaked around his neck and she pulled him down on top of her. With wide eyes, Pacey dropped back onto the ground and looked over at Joey.

He’d never kissed a girl. Never really wanted to, certainly not his second best friend in the whole wide world. But something about the way Doug and Bessie seemed to melt into one another made him look at Joey with new eyes.

"What are you staring at, Pacey?" Joey stood up and brushed the dirt from her backside. "Do I have gum in my hair? Did you and Dawson put gum in my hair?" Her voice rose slightly and she shoved him, sending him toppling to the ground. She straddled him and started slapping his arms, giggling loudly as he fought back, both of them a tangle of too long limbs that they had yet to grow in to.

Pacey managed to grab her hands and forced her onto her back as he rolled over on top of her. "Say uncle."

"In your dreams, Pacey." She struggled against his stronger grip, wriggling her body in an effort to throw him off.

"Say it, Potter." He grinned and leaned closer, staying just out of reach of her teeth.

"Bite me…Pacey." She grunted softly, pushing against him. Pacey’s eyes narrowed and he grinned. Releasing one of her hands, he caught her chin with his hand, not caring that he was smudging her clear skin with dirt, and turned her head to the side. He bit softly on the skin of her neck, careful not to leave any marks.

Joey froze, her brown eyes wide with shock. Pacey’s own eyes were surprised, and he pulled back quickly. "I…sorry."

He clambered off of her, kicking up dirt with his bare feet. Joey sputtered and shook it off of her, getting to her feet and stepping away from him. "You bit me."

"You told me to."

"You…" She glared at him, launching herself at him. She caught him around the midsection and tackled him to the ground, this time punching him wherever her fists could connect. Pacey let her hit him for the longest time, until she shifted positions and pinned him in the groin with her knee.

He groaned and shoved her off of him, not caring where she fell. "Shit, Jo." He was panting, trying to ignore the pain. "What’d you do that for?"

"What?" She was on the ground, trying to catch her breath. "What did I do?"

"Nothin’." Pacey walked away from her, heading for the front porch. "Do you think your mom’s gonna make breakfast?"

"You’re going to the picnic in like…a hour." Joey hadn’t quite grasped all the nuances of time, but she knew it was fairly sure it was going to be about that long. "You’re like a pit. A bottomless pit."

"I have a nice bottom."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, and I’m sure one of the girls at school will notice you one day, when you’re not a pathetic loser." She watched him walk around the corner of the house before getting to her feet. Fighting with Pacey made her heart beat faster, made her feel more alive. "Not that *that’s* gonna happen."

"You wait, Jo." Pacey peeked around the corner of the house. "One day, you’re gonna look at me and go, damn, that Pacey Witter is one mighty nice lookin’ man."

"Right. And on that day, the world will explode."

"Well," he grinned devilishly. "You know what would happen if the world exploded?"

She narrowed her eyes, not trusting him as she walked forward. "What?"

He pulled the hose from behind his back and sprayed her full in the face. "Tidal wave!!!"

"Pacey!" She spluttered, heading for his quickly retreating figure at a dead run, "You are sooooooo dead!"

Bessie watched out the window as Joey took off after Pacey. She shook her head and leaned back against Doug’s warm chest. "They’re either going to kill each other one of these days or…"

"Fall head over heels." He kissed the side of her neck. "Did we used to fight like that?"

She pulled away and poked him in the stomach, her mind filled with images of the smooth, hard surface. "We still do."

He was about to respond when the bedroom door burst open and Pacey, dripping water and mud, dashed in. He grabbed his brother around the waist and hid behind him. He looked over at Bessie. "Man, that sister of yours is completely psycho."

Doug grabbed him by the collar and drug him back around in front of him. Shoving him, he sent him careening directly into Joey. The two of them fell into a heap.

Joey pushed Pacey off of her. "Hey!"

"Go change, Joey." Bessie walked over and helped her sister stand. "We’re going over to the Witters’ to help out at the picnic. And give Pacey a pair of Dad’s shorts or something. He looks like you tried to drown him in the creek."

"I did." Joey smiled proudly before stomping out of the room, not looking in Pacey’s direction. He glared after her, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Your sister is…" Pacey glared at Doug and Bessie then followed Joey down the hall, muttering under his breath and leaving a trail of creek sludge behind him.

"Pacey! Be sure to clean up your mess so that Mrs. Potter doesn’t have to." Doug smiled apologetically at Bessie. "I’m pretty sure this is exactly what they mean when they talk about the beautiful morning after, right?"

Bessie smiled, slow and seductive. "I’ve never actually had a morning after, so I’d have to say this is a pretty good one." She moved closer to him, about to kiss him again when Joey’s scream brought her to a halt. "I’m going to kill them."

Doug shook his head and started for the door. "Oh no, please. Let me."

The ride over to the Witter house was completely silent. Doug and Bessie had both glanced back at their siblings the minute one of them opened their mouth, so Joey and Pacey had resigned themselves to making faces at one another.

When they reached the house, Doug opened the back door and pointed at the front door. "Both of you. Out. And I hear one word out of either of you for the rest of the afternoon, I’ll tie you both up and throw you in the creek together."

The two kids slunk out of the car and disappeared into the house. Bessie climbed out herself and moved over to Doug’s side, taking his hand a little nervously. "So…what do we do?"

"Hmm?"

"About us? What do we do? How do we act? Are you…?" She sighed, unsure and uncomfortable. "Are you my boyfriend? I mean, I know you asked last night, but I don’t want to presume here. This is the real world with parents and responsibilities. I mean, if you want to walk away, I’ll completely understand."

"You would?" Doug’s voice was soft, tinged with hurt.

"No." Bessie grinned and squeezed his hand. "I’d probably want to kill you."

Doug leaned over and kissed her, his lips lingering so that he could taste the minty warmth of her mouth. "Good," he breathed.

"Doug?"

He pulled back. "Hey dad. You remember Bessie, right?"

"Right." Mr. Witter stepped into the yard and held out his hand. "You’re Mike Potter’s kid, aren’t you?"

"Yes, sir." Bessie shook his hand, wondering if she looked as nervous as she felt. "And my little sister Joey is…"

"The little hellion that keeps Pacey on his toes." Mr. Witter laughed, his tone letting Bessie know that he actually liked her sister. "And believe me, that kid needs it."

"Pacey’s a nice kid," Bessie started.

"Yeah. But he’s no Doug, is he?" He wrapped his arm around his son’s shoulders, effectively pulling him away from Bessie. "Come on and help your old man get the back yard set up. Bessie, could you help out in the kitchen?" He looked back and gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "That’s where the other women folk are."

"Of course, Mr. Witter."

Bessie walked into the kitchen, feeling very out of place. An older woman turned around and smiled at her. "Hello Bessie."

"Hi, Mrs. Witter." She smiled; glad that Doug’s mother had remembered her. She hadn’t been over in such a long time. "Doug signed me up for duty, so I’m here to help out."

"Great. We only had a few of the other officer’s wives and daughters sign up, so we’re a little short handed. I don’t suppose you brought any of the other staff from the Ice House?"

"Well, I brought my little sister Joey, but I don’t know how much help she’d be." Bessie grabbed an extra apron from the counter. "What would you like me to do?"

She moved in next to Mrs. Witter, preparing condiments and joining in the general conversation. Doug’s sister Carrie nudged her in the ribs and nodded to the door. "You see her?"

Bessie looked over at the girl standing in the kitchen doorway. She had long blonde hair that hung past her shoulders and was dressed in an outfit that probably cost more than the entire menu at the Ice House. "Yeah."

"She’s the mayor’s daughter. She usually is off at some boarding school, but since the mayor’s up for re-election next year, she’s come home to stay. She’s royally pissed about it and taking it out by being petulant and irritating. I’m surprised Mom hasn’t stabbed her with a butcher knife or taken the cutting board to her head."

Bessie laughed, casting a surreptitious glance in the girl’s direction. "What’s her name?"

"Adele." Carrie laced the word with all the upper-class snootiness she could. "God, could she be more pretentious? I heard that her real name is Louise."

Bessie giggled. "I wouldn’t be surprised. She looks like a Louise."

"After all the plastic surgery she’s had done?" Doug’s sister shook her head. "Honey, now she looks like an Adele."

"Is she here to help?"

"Help the common folk? No." She smirked. "She’ll just stand there and look pretty while we work our butts off. Then when it’s time to walk out in front of all the men and eligible bachelors, she’ll put on her apron and pretend she’s been slaving away with the rest of us. Although why she’d want to hook up with one of the lowly men on the police force, I don’t know."

"Is she a senior?"

"Nope. Junior. But that’s not going to stop her from sinking her claws into whatever willing man she can find."

"You really don’t like this girl, do you?" Bessie watched as Adele crinkled her nose at the sight of the hamburger patties.

"Nope. I walked in on a conversation she was having. She’d used our phone to call one of her boarding school buddies and she was bitching about the lack of culture at Capeside. Now I’m not saying she’s wrong." Carrie smirked good-naturedly. "But it wasn’t a collect call and it was a slap in the face when she didn’t even acknowledge that she was doing something wrong. I mean, I may be here to help serve the crowd, but I’m not here to serve her, you know?"

"I work in a restaurant that caters to the tourist trade," Bessie reminded her. "I know exactly what you mean."

"Bessie?"

Bessie turned at the voice, surprised to see the subject of their conversation standing before her. "Yeah…yes?"

"I’m supposed to tell you that Doug wants to see you." She smiled, her head tilted slightly to the side.

"Thanks." Bessie wiped her hands on her apron and smiled at Carrie. "I’ll be right back."

"Yeah. Just remember your lipstick looks better on you than on my brother."

Bessie blushed a deep red. "Am I that obvious?"

"No. I just had to listen to Pacey taunt Doug all day yesterday before they took off. ‘Doug and Bessie sittin’ in a tree…" She grinned. "My brothers excel at being annoying."

"I think Pacey got it from my sister."

"Joey? Heck no. She’s great. She actually keeps Pacey in line. I think he’s got a crush on her."

"They hate each other."

Carrie nodded. "Yeah. I used to think that about you and Doug, too."

Bessie walked toward the living room and the back yard, a tray of vegetables in her hands. She was almost to the sliding glass doors when she heard Doug’s voice. "What?"

"I want to know what’s going on with you and the Potter girl." She stopped at the sound of Mr. Witter’s voice, moving to the edge of the doors and pushing the curtain slightly so that she could see the two of them standing on the porch.

"Why?"

"I’m the one asking the questions here, Doug. Are you dating her? Sleeping with her?"

"We’re…we’re friends."

A sharp pain pierced Bessie’s heart. Friends.

"You looked like more than friends when you showed up today."

"What’s this all about, Dad?"

"It’s about image, Doug. You’re the pride and joy of this family. You’re the one who makes up for all the mistakes. Your sisters aren’t much of a concern; they’ll all grow up and get married. But if Pacey’s childhood antics are any indication, you’re the only son I’ve got to carry on the Witter name and tradition."

Doug’s eyes were focused on the ground, "What are you saying, sir?"

"Bessie Potter is not the kind of girl you should be associating with."

"We’re just friends, sir."

"And that’s fine." John Witter clamped his hand down on his son’s shoulder reassuringly. "Hell, I don’t even care if you sleep with her, so long as you’re careful. Girl like that though…well, she’s probably got that covered."

Doug tried not to think of the condoms Bessie had in her drawer. "Girl…a girl like that, sir?"

"We busted up a few football parties last year. She’s spent a night or two sleeping it off, half the time with a blanket wrapped around her, since the arresting officer couldn’t find her shirt."

"What?" Bessie felt tears sting her eyes as Doug’s shocked gaze locked on his father. She inhaled, refusing to let them fall. She’d gone to one party with a friend, and had taken off her shirt when the star quarterback had vomited on her. She’d been just about to pull a borrowed shirt over her head when the cops had arrived.

Her parents couldn’t afford to pay the fine, so she’d spent the night in jail. She’d been too embarrassed to tell him, too ashamed at some of the rumors floating around.

"She’s not that type of girl." Doug said the words, but Bessie could hear the question in them.

"Right." John Witter looked out over the group of people milling around in their yard. "I may not be the smartest man, Doug, but I’m observant. And I know women. So I’m past the point of reasonable doubt when it comes to knowing that you got laid last night."

"Dad!"

"And I’m proud of ya. Always smart to go to someone who knows what they’re doing. But I’ll tell you this, Douglas my boy, Bessie Potter is the kind of girl you screw, not the kind of girl you date."

"I love her, Dad."

"I loved my first piece of ass, too." Mr. Witter shook his head. "You’ve got a future to think about, Doug. A career. You go out publicly with someone like Bessie, and you can kiss those things goodbye."

"Is that a threat, sir?"

"Hell no, Doug." He laughed flatly. "I’d never threaten you, son."

Doug looked at his father, hating him. Hating him for what he was implying, for what he was asking. But mostly Doug hated himself for wondering how much of what he said was true.

"I’m up for some stuff this next year, Doug. And you’re headed for the Academy this fall."

The Academy. Leaving Capeside. Leaving Bessie, at least for a little while. His father’s not so subtle threat hung in the air between them.

"Looking successful is the first step to being successful." Bessie caught her breath as Adele joined Doug and Mr. Witter on the back porch. "And the right woman always makes a man look like a success. Doug, meet Adele."

Her green eyes raked over Doug appreciatively. She nodded, almost to herself, before extending her hand. "Hello Doug."

"Hello."

"Your father has told me so much about you." She linked her hand through his. "Although he didn’t mention if you were seeing anyone."

Doug closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. "No. No I’m not."

Adele’s eyes seemed fixed on the spot where Bessie was standing just out of sight. "I’m so glad to hear that." Her free hand stroked the hair-roughened skin of his forearm. "Because I was thinking about the junior-senior prom."

"You were?" Doug’s voice was emotionless as he cursed himself in his head.

"I was thinking, I’m a junior. And you’re a senior. It would be sort of poetic if we went together, don’t you think?"

Poetic? Poetry was Bessie’s eyes as she struggled to understand something he was explaining. Poetry was the feel of her hand in his, the feel of losing himself inside her. That was poetry.

"That would be…" he followed Adele’s rapt gaze, noticing Bessie’s pale reflection in the glass doors. She wasn’t looking at him, her face as still as if carved from stone. "That would be great." He closed his eyes as he spoke the last word.

When he opened them, Bessie was gone, the curtains swaying in the breeze of her departure.

Joey sat uncomfortably between Doug and Pacey. "Where’s Bessie?"

"She wasn’t feeling well," Doug stated for the fifth time. "She went home hours ago."

"Why didn’t she tell me? Why didn’t she take me with her?"

"She knew you were hanging out with Pacey. Besides, your parents are working. She didn’t want to have to watch over you while she wasn’t feeling well."

Joey crossed her arms over her chest. "Seems weird."

Pacey looked over Joey’s head at his brother. Something in Doug’s face let him know that now wasn’t the time. "I don’t blame her, Potter. If I could pawn you off on someone else, I’d do it in a heartbeat."

"Then why don’t you just leave me and Dawson alone?"

"The guy’s my best friend, Joey. I would be letting him down if I didn’t protect him from your true nature."

Doug pulled up in front of the Potter’s house. His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he spied Bessie sitting on the dock. Pacey slid out of the car, holding the door open for Joey.

"I’ll see you on Monday, Potter." He climbed back in and shut the door. "I can wait here if you want to go talk to her."

"No." Doug shifted into reverse. "I imagine she doesn’t want to hear anything I have to say."

"I thought you really liked her," Pacey looked over at his older brother, his blue eyes confused.

"I do."

"So what’s wrong?"

"She’s not the right kind of girl."

"There’s only one kind of girl," Pacey informed him. "Annoying."

"There are two kinds of girls." Doug stared straight ahead, traveling the road by memory. "The right kind and the wrong kind."

"Is Joey the wrong kind too?"

Pacey’s worried tone brought Doug’s eyes to his little brother. He was hunched in the seat, his arms wrapped protectively around himself. "No, Pace. Joey’s…Joey’s okay."

"If Joey’s okay, then why isn’t Bessie? Aren’t they the same?"

"No."

"Well who says? Bessie’s way nicer than Joey, so shouldn’t she be even better?"

"Pacey…"

"Who says?"

"Dad."

Pacey’s normally expressive face closed down. "Oh."

"Pace…"

"I don’t know why you always do what he says."

"He’s our father, Pacey."

"He’s mean!" Pacey’s voice rose angrily. "Maybe not to you or the girls, but he hates me. And now he hates Bessie, is that it?" Comprehension dawned, turning the innocent blue eyes cynical. "That’s why Joey’s okay, isn’t it? Not because she’s okay, but because she’s okay for the likes of *me*."

"Pacey…"

"I don’t want to hear it." He placed his hands over his ears. "I don’t listen to him, and you’re just like him."

Joey sat down beside her sister. "You feeling better?"

Bessie hastily wiped away her tears. "Yeah."

"What happened?" Joey was instantly indignant. "Why are you crying?"

"Go ‘way, Joey." Bessie turned her back to her.

"Bessie?"

Tear-filled eyes met Joey’s concerned ones. Bessie managed a weak smile. "Do yourself a favor, Joey. Don’t ever fall in love. It hurts."

"Who hurt you?"

"And never, ever fall for your best friend. Because when you do, you lose everything."

"Please tell me what’s wrong." Joey’s voice took on a frightened edge. "Please?"

"Jo, I want you to promise me something, okay?"

She nodded, sad and afraid all at once. "Anything."

"Study hard. You’re smart, you’re talented. Promise me." Bessie swallowed against her tears, struggling with the lump in her throat. "Don’t be like me, okay Joey?"

"Stop talking like this, Bessie." Joey got to her feet and glared down at her sister. "You’re smart, Bessie. Maybe your grades aren’t great, but you know all the important stuff."

Bessie shook her head. "Just promise, Joey. You said you would."

"I promise."

"I want you to deserve your golden boy."

"Bessie?" Joey knelt beside her sister and brushed her hair out of her face. "Bessie, did Doug hurt you?"

"No, Joey. Doug…" Her voice caught on his name. "Doug just reminded me of something."

"Of what? What could he remind you of that would make you hurt so badly?"

"Just something about the creek."

"The creek?" Joey shook her head, not understanding. "What about the creek?"

"That I’m very much on the wrong side of it."

Doug sighed as Mr. Peterson handed out their papers on The Great Gatsby. He’d done horribly, spending all the time in the class staring at Bessie.

It have been almost two weeks now since he’d talked to her, since she’d actually looked in his direction, since he’d loved her.

Peterson dropped his paper in front of him. "Disappointing, Mr. Witter."

Doug cast a cursory glance at his grade then looked at Bessie’s paper as the teacher dropped it on her desk. The front page was a profusion of red, topped off with a large, circled F. He shook his head and closed his eyes, wishing for the day to end.

The bell finally rang. Doug waited while everyone gathered their books before heading toward Bessie. She was still sitting in her chair, staring at the paper in front of her. "Bessie?"

She whipped her head around, nailing him with an angry glare. "Leave me the hell alone."

"Miss Potter?" Mr. Peterson sat at his desk. "May I see you for a moment?"

Bessie got up, her whole demeanor stiff. She ignored Doug and walked up to the desk. "Yes, sir?"

"This paper, you realize what it means to your grade?"

"Yes."

"Can you explain what happened?" He gave her a long look. "This is below your usual sub-par work."

"Don’t worry, Mr. Peterson. I’ll be back up to mediocre in no time."

"Bessie, whatever this is about, deal with it. I have no reluctance when it comes to flunking you, even if it means spending the next year teaching you everything you should have already learned."

Bessie could feel Doug’s eyes on her, his disappointment and, no doubt, his vast relief that she was out of his life. "Are we done?"

Mr. Peterson’s eyes narrowed and he nodded. "Read the book. Write it again."

"What?"

"I understand you have a younger sister. I have no desire to suffer through the Potter girls for three years. I’ll average the two grades."

"I’ll take the F. I don’t need your pity."

"And you’re not getting it. You’re most likely going to fail the second paper. I’m giving you a chance to prove me wrong. Now go away."

Bessie turned and went back to her desk, grabbing her books. She continued to ignore Doug, brushing past him without a glance.

Mr. Peterson waited until she was gone before turning his attention to Doug. "You disappointed me, Mr. Witter."

"I seem to be doing that a lot lately, sir." He turned and walked out of the room. Heading toward the parking lot, he counted the steps to freedom, just wanting to be away.

"Doug!"

He turned, groaning inwardly. Adele hurried up to him and slipped her arm through his. "Hey."

"Oh! You won’t believe what I just heard." She leaned against him, falling in step easily. "You know Bessie Potter, right?"

His chest tightened. "Yeah."

"Well, word is that since last weekend, she’s been…volunteering her services to some of the guys in the locker room. And I don’t mean her waitressing skills, although I do hear she’s been getting some decent tips."

Doug didn’t comment as his father’s insinuations echoed in his head.

"And apparently, she’s asked some *college* guy to the prom. I guess no one from town would actually stoop low enough to take out the trash, huh?"

Jealously lanced through Doug and he pulled away from Adele. "I’ve got some errands to run. I’ll talk to you later?"

"We have to go get your tux tomorrow. Don’t forget."

He nodded numbly and climbed into his car. He sat there, unseeing, for a long time. He didn’t want to believe Adele’s words. He wanted to trust in Bessie. Trust his friend. Slipping the keys into the ignition, he started the car and drove. She was…she had been his best friend. Why was it so easy to want to believe the worst about her?

He heard his father’s voice, talking about the Potter’s, about Mr. Potter. Then he heard Pacey’s voice. Not that he’d heard that lately. The little brother who had worshiped him had been replaced by a sullen, angry smart-ass.

He parked outside the Ice House and took a deep breath. Bessie walked inside the restaurant, unaware of his gaze, a short apron tied around her waist.

Doug climbed out of the car and headed for the restaurant. No one was seated inside except Pacey, Joey and Dawson. Bessie stood behind the counter, refilling salt shakers. "You’re sure you should be here?" Her voice was cold. "Someone might get the *wrong* idea."

He ignored Pacey and his friends, concentrating solely on Bessie. "I just want to talk."

"What could we possibly have to talk about, Doug? My grades? Your reputation?" She lowered her voice so that only he could hear. "Or maybe about how you dumped me once you got what you wanted?"

"This isn’t what I wanted."

She deliberately misunderstood him. "So you didn’t want to sleep with me?" Her bitter laugh cut at him. "Didn’t feel that way to me." She couldn’t help but smirk as his face changed. "And I would know, right? Isn’t that what you’re thinking?"

Doug started, his eyes seeking hers. "That’s the rumor."

"Doug, that’s always been the rumor. It’s just that now you hope it’s true." She ignored him as he shook his head. "Because if it’s true, you don’t have to feel bad about what happened. Well, don’t worry Doug. Your secret’s safe with me."

"I don’t believe any of the rumors, Bessie."

"Really?"

"No, I…"

"Doug." Adele walked into the restaurant and headed straight for Doug, struggling not to recoil in distaste for the surroundings. "There you are."

Doug closed his eyes as she attached herself to him. "I thought…"

"I was getting lonely out there in the car." Her hand moved down his chest, resting just above his belt. "Have you gotten our order yet?" She looked at Bessie and smiled. "Doug and I are going out on his father’s boat. The Reel Action. I’m sure you know what that means. I hear you know all about getting action these days."

Bessie smiled tightly and turned her attention to Doug. "Can I take your order…Sir?"

"Actually," Adele tugged at Doug’s arm. "We should eat later, Doug. After we work up an appetite."

Bessie slipped her order pad back in her apron pocket. "Well, we close at nine."

Continues