I look forward to Fridays. I have ever since the September after graduation. Not for the usual reasons, the reasons you’d expect.

I look forward to them, because on Fridays, she’s here with me. Despite the distance between us, both physically and socially, I know every Friday night, I’m going to bed with Joey Potter.

Not literally, of course. She’s in New York, working in an art gallery, and I’m still here in Capeside, where it seems I’m doomed to stay. Although, I am thankful that I’ve managed to avoid being Pacey, the scary clean-up guy at the local supermarket.

Days I spend working on rich people’s lawns, making their expensive summer homes the pride of New England. Nights, I spend here at the Potter Bed and Breakfast, helping out just like I did in high school, except now it earns me free room and board.

“Mail call?” I grab Alexander as he rushes over to me. He’s nine now and determined to become an all star tackle. Bessie smiles at me as I grab him and carry him, upside down, to the porch. “I’ll trade you this kid for…”

“A postcard?” Bessie smiles for a minute then it fades. “’Fraid you’re stuck with the kiddo, Pacey.”

“What?” I carefully crumple Alexander to the ground. “It is Friday, right?”

“Yeah.” Standing up, she nods and all I can see is her sadness. “I’m sorry, Pacey.”

I shrug it off; pretending that I don’t feel like my world is crumbling. “Not to worry. She’s busy with the grand opening.” No need to mention that she’d managed to write every other week, even when she was busy.

“Right.” Bessie nods, her eyes on Alexander. My heart wrenches, and I know she’s not telling me something. Bessie always looks right at you unless she’s lying.

“And her new man.” It’s a shot in the dark, but I can tell by her relieved expression that I hit the target.

“You know? Thank God you know. And you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” I nod and smile, like I’ve been doing all my life. I’m good at hiding my feelings. Only Andie and Joey could ever tell when I was lying. “I’m exhausted. I think I’ll skip dinner.”

“You sure? Bodie’s making your favorite.”

When I’d left that morning, Bodie had told me he was making stew, which, while good, is not my favorite. Apparently everyone but me knew I was getting dumped. Well, me and Joey, since she’s completely unaware of the fact that I’m in love with her.

“Maybe later. Everything’s okay around here tonight?”

“Yeah. We were actually thinking about going to a movie, but if you’re not in the mood to…”

“More than happy to man the battlestations for ya, Bess. Go have some fun family time.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. Just give me an hour to finish up some stuff, then I’m your willing slave.” I manage another smile, more real this time. Bessie and Bodie have been my saving grace since graduation, and I really am grateful.

“We weren’t thinking of leaving until eight, so I’ll just let you know.” She meets my gaze again, compassion in her eyes. Maybe I should add Bessie to my list of woman who can see through me. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” I nod and head into the house empty handed. For the first Friday in five years, I don’t have Joey with me.

And I’ve never felt so alone.

Pacey - NY is everything they say. College isn’t. Too much work, too much worrying. Hey, isn’t this high school? I feel like everyone else is at party central and I’m in the real world. Miss you, not Capeside. Jo.

One down, 250 to go. Not that I have the time or desire to read them all. Some are from when things were hectic, basically scribbled ‘Miss You's.

Although one of those, finals week freshman year, is more than slightly tattered.

Pacey - I suck. Will write more when the torture is done. Love Jo.

I read it over and over again, wishing it were more than just a casual endearment, wishing she meant it.

I remember the letter I wrote in reply. I always write letters back, full of jokes and the latest Capeside gossip. I write about Dawson’s emails and Bessie’s newest crises. I write her about everything. I tell her about dates I turn down because I’m too busy, always adding the beloved Witter embellishment about how heartbroken they all are.

I wonder if she realizes that I haven’t told her about a date since she left Capeside. Okay, mostly because I haven’t been on one since she left Capeside.

That I don’t tell her. Because to do that, I’d have to explain why Pacey – libido driven creature that I’ve always been – is sitting at home every Friday night with nothing but a postcard for company.

Pacey – I’m wallowing in guilt. I was going through your letters today and I realized these postcards don’t say anything at all. So I wanted to tell you that I miss you would love to see you. Wanna come take a bite of the big apple? Love Jo.

My heart hurts. Reading that one is like reopening an old wound that’s never quite healed.

I took a week off of work and took the train to see her. Stepping off the train at the station, I spotted her immediately.

In the arms of some other man.

I watched him kiss her and couldn’t help but marvel at how comfortable she looked. Dawson had always bitched about Joey’s unwillingness to indulge in public displays and yet, there she was, wrapped up in some other guy’s arms. Some other guy’s kiss.

The train ride home was the longest of my life.

Pace – Got your message. I’m so sorry you got stuck working at the last minute. In lighter news – yes, I am seeing someone, what made you ask? His name is David and he’s wonderful. He’s also here. I’ll dish all the dirt next postcard. Love Jo.

After that, I heard about them all. Leafing through the postcards, I come across all their names, although I don’t need to see them. They’re etched in my memory. I can recite them in order – chronologically and by emotional impact.

It just makes me wonder why I haven’t heard about this new guy. And just how new ‘New guy’ is. She hasn’t mentioned anyone in over six months. So either ‘New guy’ is actually new or…

Or ‘New guy’ is way too serious.

Pacey – New gallery show opening next Friday. My first solo as design and display. Things are crazy but in a good way. Miss you. Love Jo.

“Pacey?”

I toss the last postcard in the box and place the lid on it. “Yeah, Bess?”

“You sure you’re not hungry?”

“Nah.” I slip the box under the bed – her old bed, her old room – then go and open the door for Bessie. “You guys heading out soon?”

“In a few.” She wrinkles her nose. I haven’t showered yet, so I imagine my day in the sun has left me a little…pungent. “Um…”

“I’m just going to jump in the shower, then I’ll be out.”

“Thanks Pacey.”

“Not at all.”

I hear the pounding on the door as I shut off the water. Cursing under my breath, I slip on my sweats, grab a towel and hurry down the hall.

Rubbing my hair dray as I walk, I have to smile. Wonder how Bessie would react to the fact that I’m about to greet a potential – and if the non-stop knocking is any indication, potentially irritating – guest in nothing more than seriously damp sweats, a towel and a few hundred water droplets.

The knocks get louder just before I throw open the door. Whoever this is, they’d better tip damn well. “Welcome to the Potter Bed and…Potter?” Joey’s eyes widen slightly as they meet mine, then widen even further as she takes in my outfit, or lack thereof. I’m suddenly reminded that I didn’t have a chance to dry off. My sweats are soaked through and…clinging. “Hey, Jo.”

“I forgot my key.”

“Oh.”

“Misplaced it, actually.”

“Well, you haven’t used it for over five years, probably wasn’t high on your priority list.” My eyes are devouring her, drinking her in. I didn’t think I could fall any further, but I was wrong. “I thought today was the big day.”

“It is…was.” She gestures at her outfit, a simple black dress that hugs every curve. I love this dress. “But some stuff, er, important other stuff, came up and I needed someone to talk to.”

“Well, Bessie and company are out at the movies and…”

“You, Pacey. I needed to talk to you.”

“You want to come in?” I look at the clock. After eight, which means check in time is now officially over. I lock the door behind her then reach for the phone. With a quick code, I forward all the calls to my room. “Do you have any luggage?”

“No.”

“Okay.” I try to see her eyes, but she refuses to meet mine. “You want to go somewhere private?”

At my last word, her eyes dart down to my sweats. My wet, clingy and really useless at hiding how she affects me sweats. I can hear the smile in her voice when she speaks, but it doesn’t alleviate the fears building in my stomach. “Private might be good.”

Gesturing to the hall, I take a deep breath. “Right this way.”

Her eyes are darting around the room, looking at all the changes I’ve made, I suppose. There aren’t that many. Joey was never one for the big feminine influence. “You kept it up.”

I follow her line of sight and smile. She’s staring at a picture she drew during our senior year. It’s a charcoal drawing of me, although you wouldn’t be able to tell it just from looking at it. I’m leaning against the railing on the pier, very close to where I first kissed Tamara so long ago. The picture is the back of me, my short hair ruffled by the wind, my eyes staring off someplace that isn’t Capeside. “Of course I did. It’s a Joey Potter original.”

“That and a quarter might get you a cup of coffee.” She walks over to the wall and touches the picture, smudging the charcoal just a bit, softening the lines of my face. “Did you know I was watching you?”

“No.” I shouldn’t lie to her, but I can’t help it. I was looking out, away from Capeside, but my heart was with the woman not that far behind me. “If I had known you were standing there, I probably would have turned around and flipped you shit for staring at my ass.”

“You do have a nice ass,” Joey shrugs and I can’t help but laugh. “What were you thinking about that day, Pacey?”

“Letting my guard down.”

“To who?”

“Whom.”

“That’s rich. Pacey Witter lecturing me on proper grammar.” She turns away from the picture and meets my eyes. I wonder what she sees in them. “Whom?”

“I’ve never wanted anything more than to get out of Capeside. My family life was a mess, even though it did start to get better. By that time though, it was more too little, too late. I didn’t have many prospects here. And after Andie and I…” I shrug. “Let’s not go down that tired old path again, shall we? I needed someone to lean on and I couldn’t think of anyone. So I spent the day staring out at the water, wondering who I could turn to.”

“Was it really so hard to decide? I mean, Dawson is your best friend…”

“No Joey. You are. You have been for a long time. Even before that day.” I nod in the direction of the picture. “But I didn’t know how much of my heart I could trust you with.”

“You told me the truth that day,” she reminds me. “Told me how much it hurt to stay. That’s how we came up with a better solution.”

“I told you a part of the truth that day, Joey. The part you were willing to hear.”

“What does that mean?”

I walk over to the door and lean on it, staring at her. The soft glow of the lamp makes her look ethereal and angelic. “It means I said what I could and kept what I couldn’t inside. But that was a long time ago, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“It does.”

“No. What matters is why you drove down from New York on the biggest night of your career so far to talk to me. Did the opening go all right?”

“It went great.” She sinks down on the edge of my bed and stares at her hands. “It’s been so crazy lately with shipments and reconfiguring the gallery, but it’s been so much fun. I’ve never felt so alive, so creative. I even started drawing again.”

“That’s great.” I mean it too. Drawing was Joey’s peace. Something that was hers and hers alone. As far as I knew, I was the only one other than Joey to have one of her drawings. “But it still doesn’t explain the Capeside trek.”

“There are some things in my life that I haven’t told you about, Pacey. Things that I kept from you…deliberately.”

“Things?” I shouldn’t say it, shouldn’t let her know I know, but I can’t help myself. “Or people?”

She sighs sadly. “So you know.”

“Not really.” I slide down the door and sit on the floor. “I know that for the first time in five years I didn’t get a postcard from you today, even though you’ve never forgotten, no matter how busy you’ve been. I know that Bessie and Bodie have been walking on eggshells around me today, at least until I guessed there was someone in your life.” I lean my head back and close my eyes. “I know that you’re not telling me something. I just don’t know why.”

“His name is Marc.”

“Of course it is.”

She gives me a dirty look. I don’t even have to open my eyes to know it. I felt it enough to know it’s there. “He’s a great guy, Pacey. He’s handsome and talented. He’s got a good job; he’s nice to me. He…he loves me.”

“How could he not?” I look at her now, and bite my lip to stop it from trembling. Don’t let her see, Witter. Don’t let her know that you’re falling hard and fast, and the landing’s going to hurt like hell. “I mean, you’re Joey Potter, sexiest thing Capeside ever saw.”

“Thank you for that delusion.”

“Come on, Jo. Dawson fell for you, Jack fell for you. Hell, half of the school fell for you. How can you still doubt that you’re amazingly beautiful?”

“You never fell for me.”

“I did. You just never noticed.” I shrug. “Remember our ill-fated snail mating project? I have to admit the ‘what the hell are you doing, Pacey’ put a quick, relatively painless death to that crush.” I knew all that pretending I did at the Witter house would come in handy some day. Lying is getting to be old hat again.

“I thought it was just…”

“Do you love him?” I get to my feet just so that I don’t have to look at her. I can’t see her eyes when she tells me that all my dreams have been in vain.

“He asked me to marry him, Pacey.”

“Oh.” It comes out sounding small, but that might be because I can’t seem to find any air. I’m glad I wasn’t trying to stand when those words left her mouth, glad I was leaning against the door again. I need the support. “And what did you say?”

She stands and walks over to me, her eyes searching mine. I don’t try and hide the emotions I know must be brimming in my eyes; I don’t have the strength. “Well, that’s sort of what I had to talk to you about.” She stops in front of me, just a few inches away. I can feel heat radiating off her body and I’m suddenly conscious again of the fact that I’m not wearing many clothes.

“I don’t understand.”

“I love Marc, Pacey.”

“That sounds like an answer to me.”

“But the thing is, I don’t think I’m in love with him. Because when I’m with him? Whenever I close my eyes? All I can see is you.”

“Me?”

She smiles and for a moment, she’s that gangly Joey Potter from the wrong side of the creek, the girl who stole my heart when we were kids. The girl who would never be mine because she belonged to Dawson. The girl who is biting her lower lip, her hazel eyes looking hopefully up at me. “You, Pacey.”

“I think you might have me confused with the other guy you grew up with. You know, the one you spent the first fifteen years of your life falling in love with?”

“No. I mean you, Pacey Witter. The irresponsible, irritating, sexy smart-ass I fell head over heels for my junior year.”

“Tell me another one, Potter.”

“The guy who told me that I had to follow my dreams and be the person I needed to be, without letting the creek or anyone associated with it, hold me back.”

“Like I said, you’ve got me mixed up with someone…” I meant to say more, meant to protest. I knew she couldn’t mean me, because there’s no way someone like Joey could ever be in love with me. I meant to say all those things, but it’s difficult with her body pressed against mine. Difficult with her lips caressing mine as her tongue dips inside my mouth.

I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close. Looking at her curves in that black dress is nothing compared to feeling them through the silky material, nothing like touching her, kissing her. My hand settles in the small of her back, molding her body to mine, letting her feel how she affects me.

A timeless time later, she pulls away, her lips swollen from our kisses. Her face is flushed and her chest is rising and falling rapidly. “Pacey?”

“Potter?” I say it softly, almost like a caress.

“I told him I’d give him my answer tomorrow.”

My heart, which seconds ago felt like it was going to burst, seemed to deflate. “You have any idea what your answer’s going to be?” Her hand reaches out and touches my lips, feels my tortured breath. Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them show. “Well, Joey?”

She steps away from me and takes my hand, leading me toward her bed…my bed…our bed. “Ask me in the morning.”

Dawson – Hope this reaches you before you head out for your shoot. Pacey’s moving up to New York and, once he’s settled, we’re looking at trying a relationship thing. Have I mentioned how weird life is? Definitely not like the movies. Oh well, they always said truth is stranger than fiction. Who better than Pacey to prove ‘em right? Hugs! Joey.

03/12/00