I can feel her as she walks up behind me, and I can’t help wondering how she’s going to react. I force myself to keep moving the roller, hoping that somehow things are going to be okay between us, that the “something else” she thought was building will still be there.
“What on earth?”
I look at her quickly, trying to gauge her reaction. “Hey Potter.”
Her eyes don’t leave me as I turn back to the wall. “Pacey, what are you doing?”
Ah, the obvious, never lost on our Miss Joey. “Painting.”
“Duh.”
“I just thought it would be good if you could start with a blank canvas.”
“Blank canvas, huh?”
I keep painting, afraid to look too long, scared that she’s mad, afraid even that I’ve pushed her completely out of my reach. “Yeah, you know. Wipe the slate clean, Tabula Rasa, return to point A. All that good stuff.”
“And who, may I ask, told you I was repainting the mural in the first place?”
Is it wrong to lie? To let her think it was all Dawson? That I don’t know her just as well? “Ah, it’s just this guy I met out on the street.”
“Some guy?”
I climb down the ladder, wanting us to be on equal footing, needing to see her eyes. “Yeah, you know, your typical do-gooder type.”
Not exactly a lie, although I doubt I’m your typical do-gooder. Taking a breath, I decide to jump in with both feet, not sure how long I can stay on uncertain ground with her.
“So, you gonna thank me?”
“For what?”
Okay, not the enthusiastic response I was hoping for, but I’ve never been one to give up easily – witness this volatile relationship I’m poised at the edge of here. Resting my arm on the top of the ladder, I shrug. “Well, for all manner of things. Ya know, defending your honor, buckin’ the system…”
“Tilting at windmills while in the throes of a misguided hero complex?”
I just stare for a second until she tilts her head, then I can’t help but smile. There’s hope. “Well, yeah. That too.”
I watch her as she talks, noticing that she can’t seem to look at me. “Pacey, if I was going to thank you for anything, it would be for being yourself and, you know, not caring what anybody else thinks and…and for knowing in your heart what’s right and wrong. And for being there this year.” At least, she can’t look at me until now, when it really matters. “When I needed you most.”
A man who rarely receives heartfelt praise from a woman who rarely gives it. It doesn’t take much to tamp down my natural smart-ass tendencies. The look in her eyes is more than enough. “You’re welcome.”
I bend down for more paint and hold the can out as a sort of peace offering.
“D’you wanna help?”
“One condition.”
“Sure.” My mind kicks into overdrive as I walk back to the ladder. I nod slightly, knowing I’d do anything for her. “Name it.”
“Be honest.” She doesn’t look at me as I climb, focusing instead on the paint she’s pouring. “The only reason you’ve been hanging out with me is simply because Dawson told you to?”
Her voice is light, but I know the answer means a lot. It’s funny how now I can’t meet her eyes. “Yep. That’s the only reason.” I wonder how much truth she’ll manage to hear in the lie.
“Hmm. You need to get a life.”
I chuckle softly, knowing she’s smiling as well. Knowing that me and Joey? We’re going to be okay again.
And that means my life is pretty nice just the way it is.