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Tempest - Chapter Five: Go On, Admit It!
"So, how'd you manage to afford a car like this?" Pacey asked Joey while they were stopped at a set of traffic lights. "I mean, sure you're in the business of ripping people off for half an hour of non-therapy, but I still didn't think you counsellors made that much!" Joey rolled her eyes. "No. We don't. It's my neighbour's." "So why do you have it?" he asked her. "Well, they went away on holiday, and just two days before they left, the lady came and offered me the use of it," she explained. "So, obviously, I took it!" "What, so you don't have a car?" "I did," she said as the lights changed and they continued driving. "Did?" "It got written off," she said matter-of-factly. "Written off? Why?" "I stalled at a set of traffic lights, then some IDIOT behind me smashed right into the back of my car." "What made you stall?" Pacey asked curiously. Joey shrugged. "I've never been any good at driving stick," she replied. Pacey froze. 'Just like Joey," he thought to himself, then cursed himself for thinking that. 'Why does EVERYTHING have to relate back to Joey?!' he asked himself. Joey laughed nervously, thinking of the same thing. She drove down a concrete driveway, then stopped the car in a small parking lot. "Ok, we're here," she told him, holding a raincoat over her head as she opened the car door. Pacey took one step out then looked at the sigh in front of her door. "For lease?" he read. "You're moving?" "Yep," she replied. "Where to?" "Uh... it's not that far away from here. Four suburbs over, actually," she replied as she stuck the key in the lock. "Then why are you bothering?" he asked. "I mean, forgive me, but why all the hassle just to move a couple of miles away?" She yanked the door open as she replied, "Take a look around this place and you'll understand." Pacey followed her in and she switched on the lights. "See?" she asked as he looked around. "What are you talking about, Nat?" he asked. "I'd kill for a place like this!" "Geez! You must be worse off than I thought you were!" Joey exclaimed. "Ha-ha," Pacey said sarcastically. "But seriously - you get some paint and scrubbing brushes, and this place could be a dream come true!" "I've already signed a contract promising that I'm leaving this place. And I can't renovate it anyway. It doesn't even belong to me!" she explained as she kicked off her shoes and peeled off her wet jacket. Pacey shrugged. "Whatever you say," he muttered as she took his jacket off him. "Hot chocolate?" she asked as she took two mugs out of a green cupboard. "Thanks," he replied as he looked around the small living room/dining room/ kitchen, which seemed extremely large compared to his trailer. She couldn't help but laugh at him as he stood there, trying not to soak the carpet. "What?" he asked self-conciously. "C'mon - I'll get you some clothes," she said as she placed the mugs, which were now full of milk, into the microwave. Pacey scoffed. "Yey! I've always wondered what I'd look like in a mini-skirt and a tank top," he said jokingly in a high-pitched tone. "I don't wear mini-skirts," she said with a roll of her eyes - an expression which he'd become very used to her seeing from her. "And don't worry about the tank top business - I stopped wearing those things over four years ago!" "Aww damn!" he said, feigning disappointment. "Hang on a sec," Joey said as she headed for the bedroom. Even after fumbling through her wardrobe and removing everything from her chest of drawers, she found nothing that was suitable for him to sleep in. Pushing aside the thought of letting him sleep naked - in her bed - she knelt down in front of her wardrobe and removed two shoe racks. Opening the brown cardboard box which had been hidden under it, she took out the shirt that lay on top of all the other memories. "Don't hate me for this, Pacey," she said softly as she looked upward, then shut the box and replaced the shoe racks, leaving out the shirt which meant so much to her.
Dawson wiped away a tear as he locked the door behind him. Picking up his suitcase, he cast one last glance down at Melissa's flat and started walking down the ramp. Hailing a taxi, he put his suitcase in the boot then climbed into the backseat. "Where to?" the driver asked, his voice gruff but caring. "The airport," Dawson replied, trying not to let his voice reveal the fact that all he really wanted to do right now was curl up into a ball and die. "Ok," the man replied as he pulled out of the parking space and started in the direction of the airport.
"So, where you headed?" the driver asked as an attempt to start up conversation. "Uh... the airport?" Dawson offered meekly. "No, no," he man chuckled. "I mean, where're you flying off to?" "Oh, uh, Paris," Dawson replied, not really in the mood to talk. "Well, actually, Boston, then Paris." "Sounds like it'll be a great holiday!" he commented. "So why don't you look happy about it?" "I... I'm leaving a lot behind," Dawson explained. "Tell me about it! When I went overseas for a month for work, he wife threw a tizzy!" "I'm going for two months." "Geez! That's a long holiday!" "It's - It's not a holiday," Dawson muttered. "It's for work. I gave up my wonderful girlfriend for a few measly dollars!" "Something tells me that it's not just 'a few measly dollars', my friend," the driver said. Dawson sighed. "Alright. A few thousand measly dollars," he admitted. "But it's still not worth it." He paused for a while, then continued. "You know, none of this would've happened if we'd been more committed. God! We went out for eight months! EIGHT MONTHS! Eight months and the best thing I did for her was buy tickets because I truly wanted her to come with me. I wanted to give her time to think about it, so I decided to fly out three days later. I wanted to come with me, but she's not coming!" "How can you be so sure?" "It's the same flight as mine. I watched her from my window. She's been pacing up and down her apartment all night.. She probably still hasn't stopped. Believe me, she's NOT coming on the flight!" "I'm sorry," the driver said sympathetically. "Don't be. I mean, it's my fault. We live a few feet away from each other, but neither of us suggested that maybe we should move in together. We spent most of our time at each other's places anyway, so why would it have changed anything? It wouldn't have! It's just the thought of actually living together! It scared me!" he admitted out loud for the first time ever. "I was afraid of commitment and that's all there is to it!" he yelled, outraged at himself. "It sounds like she was just as afraid as you were. Maybe even more," the driver interjected. "She was - but - but I can't help thinking that there should've been something I could do to keep her happy," Dawson said. "Even if it hurt me." "Sounds like you loved her very much," the driver said, feeling for the heartbroken young lad in the backseat. "I did." "Did you ever tell her that?" the wise old man asked. "SHIT! STOP THE CAB!!!"
Joey came out of the bedroom door, now dressed in green PJ pants and a grey singlet. She didn'tlook a thing like the smart counsellor who'd charged Pacey for an hours worth of coffee and chat. She just looked... plain. What wasn't plain was the shirt which she was holding out to him. He froze. She walked up to him. "Sorry, this is about all I've got. Unless you were serious about the skirts..." she trailed off, noticing that his attention wasn't really focused on what she was saying. He was standing there, as still (and cold) as a statue. Staring at the shirt. "Brett?" she asked cautiously. This snapped him out of it. He remembered who he was supposed to be and where he was. "Yeah?" he asked, shaking his head as though he were trying to wake himself up. "Get changed," she ordered, holding out the shirt. "Na, I... I think I'll sleep in what I'm wearing now," he muttered, looking past her, as he knew that if she looked into his eyes she'd see the memories, the heartache and the fear. And her seeing these things would switch her back into smart counsellor mode - something he could do without right now. "What? No, that's... that's all soaking wet! It must be really uncomfy," she had said with a nervous laugh, unsure why he wouldn't take the damn shirt and let her forget about it - at least for a while. "It's... it's fine," he mumbled his reply. "Wear it," she said stubbornly, unsure of why she so desperately wanted him to take the shirt and put it on - NOW! "G'night, Pace," Pacey could hear Joey's voice saying. "'Night, Sweetie," he heard himself reply. 'Stop it!' he screamed to his brain. "Are you sure, Jo? Because if you don't want to do this then---" "I want to do this." 'Stop it!' he yelled to himself as he gritted his teeth. "Pacey, I'm scared. It's getting really windy." 'No!' he scoulded himself. 'Don't do this to yourself!' "Pacey! Pacey! What do we do? Pacey - what do we do?" he heard Joey cry desperately. Images of Joey wearing that shirt on that awful night haunted him. Laughed at him. Poked fun at him. Generally teased him. She'd been so afraid. Why couldn't he have done something? "Pacey - we're gonna die out here!" "NO ONE'S gonna die out here!" God, he'd been so stupid! "Joey, you're going to survive this. We both are." "How can you be so sure? At any moment now a wave could crach over this boat and we'll both be history!" "I'm not gonna let that happen!" But it did anyway. "Joey, we've been through a lot. We can survive this." "I hope so, Pacey. Because, god I love you." "I love you too, J---" Yep. Insert one gigantic wave. Take away one Joey, and you've pretty much got the whole story. "Look, Natalie, thanks for the offer, but, I'd really rather not wear that shirt." Crushed, Joey sighed. "Just wear it." "No. I - I - I think it's about time you got the milk out of the microwave," he said as he pointed where it sat on the bench. "Yeah, I'll - I'll... I'll go get them," she muttered as she walked over to it and opened the microwave door. "Want some biscuits with it?"
"Melissa! Melissa, open up!" Dawson yelled as he pounded his fists against her door. "Open this door right now, Melissa!" Someone tapped him on the shoulder and he spun around. His landlord. "Hey Steve," the old guy said. "You looking for Melissa?" "Yeah," he replied, nodding his head vigorously. "You have any idea where she might be?" "Nope, sorry. She gave me back her keys and signed out about ten minutes ago," the landlord replied. "Sign... she signed out?" Dawson asked, distressed, running a hand through his hair. "Yep. Only gave me a week's notice, too," the cheerful old man replied with a chuckle. "She gave you a week's notice?" "Yeah. 'Bout a week ago she came 'round to tell me she'd be leaving tomorrow. I guess she decided to leave half a day early." "Where's she going to?" Dawson asked, praying that he already knew the answer. "Uh... the airport, I think." "She's going to the airport?" "Yep. Called a taxi from the payphone out front," he replied, not realizing how much this information meant to Dawson. "If you like I could---" He stopped short when he realized that Dawson was no longer standing in front of him. He was now sprinting back towards the cab which was still waiting for him out the front. "Back to the airport!" he yelled to the taxi driver from his spot in the backseat. "Whatever you say..." the driver muttered as he shook his head, laughing silently to himself.
"So are you gonna tell me why?" Jack asked, his eyes burning into hers. "Ok," Andie sighed. "Here goes... You had to expect that Pacey's death... and Joey's death... would affect me. It was pretty clear that if something like that happened, it would make me... ill again." Jack opened his mouth to say something, but Andie held up her hand to stop him. "No, Jack. Don't argue. It was crystal clear that it would happen," she said, then paused for a while, taking several deep breaths. "Then I started thinking back to my first few months in Capeside. Things were so much better back then. So simple." "Andie, things get more complicated as you grow up. It's a simple fact of life. When you---" "Jack, do you want me to tell you or not?" she asked, impatient and irritated. This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to remember. It'd be so much easier if she could just forget. "Yeah. Go on," Jack replied softly, almost apologetically. "People could say 'McPhee' without having everyone instantly think of gays and nutcases. People would think---" "Wait a minute - GAYS?" Jack asked, a look of shock and realization on his face. "That was it, wasn't it?" "What?" Andie asked, confused. "You were ashamed!" he yelled, leaping off his seat. "What? No, I---" "You were! You were ashamed of your family!" Jack yelled accusingly. "Well yeah, a little, but it wasn't like that, Jack! That's not what it was about!" Andie yelled, almost in tears. "Forget it, Andie," Jack said coldly. "We were all ashamed. Not just OUR family, but our whole group of friends. Everyone, Andie. EVERYONE!!! You left us all in the dust! God! If I hadn't applied for the job here - by chance - I might add, then I would still spend everyday wondering what happened to you. Wondering if you became successful. If you found someone to spend your life with. If... if you were still alive," he said sadly. "I have never been able to stop wondering what happened to my only sister! Don't you understand, Andie? You hurt ALL of us because you were too afraid to admit that your past was less than perfect. That you had stuffed-up friends and a stuffed-up family. But we all loved you, Andie! And I'm sorry that our love just wasn't enough for you. You wanted more. But you could have at least let us know that you were ok! Didn't you care enough to even THINK about doing that?!" "You know what, Jack? I had a perfectly good reason for leaving, but you don't seem to care for hearing the whole story, so I'm gonna have to ask you to leave..." "But---" "...and not come back until you feel like you can listen for a COUPLE OF MINUTES before jumping to stupid conclusions likeyou did today!" Suddenly, the door to her office snapped open and the same woman who had helped Jack the other day entered. "Hey Sasha, I---" she stopped as she saw jack. "Oh hi!" she gasped cheerfully. "We've met before! It's David, am I right?" "David?" Andie asked, confused. "Bye, SASHA," he replied, glaring at Andie as he pushed past the perplexed shop assistant. "What was that about?" the poor girl asked her boss. Andie shrugged. "Nothing important," she lied casually - something that she had become very good at. A little TOO good.
Joey woke up, a little disorientated, wondering why she wasn't in her bed. She sat up and realized that she was on the couch. The TV was still humming quietly and 'Brett' was asleep on the couch. She turned off the TV then took the empty mugs off the coffee table and put them into the sink. - About five minutes later she re-emerged from the bedroom, now dressed in perfectly ironed grey pants and a fitted white blouse. Yep. She was back in her 'smart counsellor mode'. "'Morning, Brett," she said as she entered the room. "Good morning to you too, Natalie," Pacey said as he pulled himself up off her other couch. "Sleep well?" Joey asked. "Yeah, thanks," he replied. "Sorry 'bout falling asleep while you were still out here. That was kinda rude of me." Joey chuckled. "Actually, I fell asleep before you did." "Oh, well in that case..." They both smiled at each other, but Joey turned away when she saw something in his eyes that she wasn't sure she'd wanted to see. "What time is it?" Pacey asked. "Ummm... SH*T! It's eight o'clock!" she yelled. "What's wrong with that?" Pacey asked. "I've gotta be at work in half an hour!" she yelled as she hurridly grabbed two breakfast bars from the cupboard. She threw one to Pacey and he caught it perfectly. "No need to panic. You've still probably got about twenty minutes before you've gotta leave this place," he said. "Ten," she corrected him. "Ten minutes tops. Probably about five would be better." "Oh, ok," Pacey said as he watched this woman run around her small apartment, completely panicked. "You go have a shower," she said as she pointed to the small bathroom. "I'll go get my papers and stuff ready." He didn't move. "Well GO," she demanded before she ran into her room and started piling pieces of paper up in a folder, munching away on the breakfast bar the whole time. Pacey knocked on the open door. "You ready?" he asked. "Just about," she mumbled through a mouth full of sticky museli and apricot pieces. Her hand stopped as it passed over a certain piece of paper. "Hey Brett?" she started as she turned around to face him. "Yeah?" he replied as he walked closer to her. "I know we only really met, what?, sixteen hours ago, but..." she handed him the piece of paper. "Please come." Pacey looked down at the invitation that he held in his hand. "This Friday?" "Yeah. It's - It's a house-warming party." "I know. It says that right here," he said, pointing down at the piece of paper. "So... can you make it?" Joey asked hopefully. Pacey nodded. "I'll be there."
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