~~~~~

"Remind me again what we're doing here?" Pacey Witter climbed out of his dad's truck and looked across the hood at his best friend, Dawson Leery, who was anxiously scanning the parking lot of Prestonville High School.

"Jen will be here," Dawson said absently.

Pacey rolled his eyes. "D, you've got to get over that girl. Or at least tell her how you feel."

Dawson ignored him. Pacey sighed and closed his door. Dawson was hopeless. When Jen Lindley had moved in next door a few months ago, Dawson had taken one look at her and fallen headlong into love.

Or at least, Dawson's version of love, which apparently was worship from afar. Pacey didn't understand his best friend sometimes, but he was a man of action, himself.

"She just wants to be my friend," Dawson said finally, walking toward the school. "I have to show her that I can be more."

"And what about her boyfriend?"

"Cliff Elliot? That empty-headed jock won't even come to see her cheer tonight. Just because he couldn't make the basketball team ..."

Pacey laughed. "So, Dawson Leery enters stage right, ready to sweep our jilted heroine off her feet -- pompons and all. Cue romantic music by the latest teen pop queen."

"Something like that."

"And drags his loyal sidekick with him," Pacey sighed. "Well, I went to the trouble of borrowing the Witter family vehicle, so let's go find us a blond, brokenhearted cheerleader."

"Pacey, thanks for coming with me," Dawson said seriously. "Especially since I know how much you loathe organized sporting events. Next time you're on a romantic quest, count me in."

"Dawson, to be perfectly honest, I don't think there's a woman on earth who could get me to voluntarily attend a high school basketball game. All that cheering and pep and fake school spirit," he shuddered and pushed open the school door. "I mean, sure, she looks cute in her little cheerleading skirt, but ..." He trailed off as he caught sight of the brunette walking in front of him.

She wore a jean jacket, and one of the aforementioned cheerleading skirts showed off approximately a mile of tanned leg. The way her hips were swaying made him lose track of his point.

"Pace?" Dawson prompted.

"I'm starting to develop some school spirit, man," Pacey said loudly, following the girl toward the door to the gym. Dawson looked startled.

"Of course, all my spirit is for the other school," Pacey continued. "Check this woman out. Have you ever seen a better pair of legs? That's what a cheerleading skirt was made for, my man."

Pacey wasn't sure where this was coming from. A small corner of his brain told him he was being a sexist jerk, but what he wanted more than anything was for this girl to turn around.

"Pacey, have you lost your mind?" Dawson asked.

The brunette stopped suddenly, spinning around. "I seriously doubt he had one to begin with," she snapped, glaring at the pair.

Pacey was speechless. Even with a scowl darkening her features, she was a goddess. Long brown hair fell onto her delicate features, one strand playing across her soft, pink mouth ... which was, at the moment, frowning. And her dark brown eyes reminded him of melting chocolate. Pacey loved chocolate.

Dawson, of course, rushed to apologize for him. "I'm sorry about my friend." He glanced at Pacey, who was still staring at the girl. "He has a big mouth, but he's harmless."

In the blink of an eye, she went from a scowl to a smile. "Big mouth, huh?" She looked at Pacey and smiled sweetly. Somehow, that smile was more vicious than her glare. "That's good. More room for his foot."

Pacey laughed. "My feet are in my mouth so often, I should get a wheelchair."

She looked surprised, obviously not used to anyone brushing off her insults. Shrugging, she turned to Dawson and pointed to his shirt. "Great shirt. 'E.T.' is one of my favorite movies."

Dawson's face lit up, and Pacey groaned. When they both looked at him, he explained. "Don't get him started on His Royal Majesty, Steven Spielberg."

The girl looked over his shoulder. Pacey followed her gaze to a group of cheerleader types in a huddle.

"I've gotta go. I'd say it's been nice meeting you," she smirked, "But I have a habit of being brutally honest." She turned to walk away.

"Wait!" Pacey gave her his most charming smile. "We didn't actually meet. I'm Pacey Witter, and this is Dawson Leery. We're from Capeside."

"Pacey? What kind of name is that?"

"Mine."

"Hmmm. Dawson, nice to meet you. Pacey ... it's been interesting." She turned and walked away.

"You didn't tell us your name!" Pacey yelled. Without turning, she waved a hand dismissively.

Pacey grinned and clapped Dawson's shoulder. "I think she's hot for me, man."

Dawson laughed.

~~~~~

TO BE CONTINUED