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Tempest - Chapter Seven: What's In A Name?
Pacey woke up feeling a lot... comfier than usual.
He was lying on his side, and he had sheets bunched up around his waist. But
other than that... yep. He was naked.
But instead of regretting last night like he thought he would, he felt happy,
and certain that, despite everything, he'd... THEY'D made the right decision.
He rolled over to kiss her, but only found a neatly straightened bedsheet.
'No need to panic,' he told himself. 'This doesn't mean she's ditched you.
She could be in any number of places.'
He climbed out of the bed and pulled on his boxer shorts.
"Natalie?" he asked as he entered the lounge room. It was still a terrible
mess from the night before. Streamers lay in piles on the floor while dirty
dishes were stacked up on the tables and red wine stained the cream coloured
carpet.
Pacey shrugged, then headed for the kitchen.
"Hey Nat. You in there?" he asked as he stepped into the room.
Nope. Not there either.
But she couldn't be standing him up. Not after...
Aha!
There was a note on the dining room table. That should explain her whereabouts.
He picked up the peach coloured paper, silently noting the small rose mofit
in the bottom corner, as he read the beautiful black handwriting.
Dear Brett,
I've gone to work. One of my regulars called up sometime around 8. She
really needs me.
So that's why I'm not home now.
I don't want you to still be here when I get back, either.
See, I've never done that before. You know? Not for a LONG time anyway. But
besides that, it's still dead wrong. For so many reasons. Not to mention
that it'd ILLEGAL! I could lose my job over something like this!
Anyway, it's easier to end things before they really begin than to have you
leave me when... well, than to let us actually feel something, then have it
not work out. It's better this way. Just trust me, it is.
You and I both know that last night was a stupid mistake. One that can't and
WON'T happen again.
So take a shower, get dressed, and lock the door behind you.
Natalie
xoxox
P.S. Please don't bother cleaning up. I've got a maid coming in at 1:00.
Pacey sat the paper back down on the table before collecting his clothes and
trying hard not to let his emotions show.
Trying hard not to cry.
"Dawson? What the hell are you doing here?" Jack choked.
Dawson? How the hell did this person know who he really was?
He panicked for a moment, before deciding that flat out DENIAL was the answer.
"Uh, Dawson? You must have the wrong guy. My name's Steve," he
announced. "Steve Torpet."
Jack scoffed. "Yeah. Right. And my name's David Hewant. Andie's now called
Sasha Philanne. The only name missing here is Jen. And if she's also going
by a different name, then there's no way in hell we're gonna be finding her
anytime soon!"
"Wa-Wait a minute. Jack?" Dawson asked.
"Amazingly enough, yeah," he said as he removed his big blonde wig, waiting
nervously for Dawson's reaction to his suprise... reappearance.
After a few moments, Jack found himself feeling EXTREMELY relieved when Dawson
pulled him into a big 'guy-hug' and said, "It's been a long time, buddy."
"Too long," Jack agreed.
"Hey! You two! Your drinks are ready," the bartender told them.
They both had to stifle their laughter as they took their drinks from the
counter-top.
"C'mon," Jack said, tilting his glass towards Dawson. "We've got a lot
of catching up to do!"
"You've got that right, Jackers," Dawson agreed.
"Oompa-Loompa," Jack laughed.
"Oh ha-ha," Dawson said sarcastically. "Let's go."
On their way out, Dawson commented, "That dress must itch."
"Believe me, pal. You don't know the half of it!"
"Who was that guy at the club, anyway?" Melissa asked as they stood in a
newsagent and she handed over money to pay for a magazine.
"An old friend," Dawson replied casually.
"An old friend?" Melissa asked. "An old friend who happened
to be wearing a sequined black dress, red high heels, big pouty red lips
and a big blonde wig?"
"Yes. Do you have a problem with that?" Dawson asked jokingly as they sat down
in the passenger's waiting lounge.
"No. It's just that you never struck me as the type to be friends with such a
blatantly homosexual... person," Melissa tried to explain.
"Blatantly homosexual?"
"He was a DRAG QUEEN for gods sake!"
Dawson chuckled. "You know, he stole my girlfriend in high school."
"He stole... he stole your girlfriend?"
"Yep. I HATED him! Then, of course, he came out of the closet. So I no
longer hated him. I was just pissed off at him."
"Pissed off? Why?"
"He put me through all this pain, you know? Just to figure out how he felt
about... guys. And girls. He was a great guy though. I was just an immature
and insecure kid."
"So how'd you two manage to become friends?" Melissa asked curiously.
"Truthfully - I don't know. It just kinda happened. We were never really
that close."
Melissa scoffed. "Yeah. Whatever."
"I'm serious!" Dawson said defensively.
"You two looked pretty close at the club the other night."
"Yeah. That's another thing. Why'd you take me to a GAY club?"
She just laughed. "It's not really a 'gay club'. A lot of different
people go there. Less than fifty percent of them are ACTAULLY gay."
"It wasn't even really your cousin's club, was it?"
"Yes! It WAS!"
Dawson gave her a doubtful look.
"Fine! Don't believe me!"
When he didn't reply, she explained, "He and his best friend run the place
together, ok? His best friend's gay. Not him."
"Ok. Whatever," he sighed as the air hostess announced that they were to start
boarding the plane.
"So anyway... this old friend of yours. What's his name? Did you get his
number?"
"He just got kicked out of his place, so he didn't exactly have a number to give
me. And I don't have a place either, so..."
"So...?"
"So I gave him my cellphone number. I told him to call me in a couple of days
so I could give him our number at the hotel."
"And his name?"
"His name?"
"Yeah. What is it?" Melissa asked.
David? Jack? David? Jack? David? Jack?
"Jack," Dawson told her as they boarding the plane. "His name's Jack."
Sunday. Four forty-five. He wasn't coming.
She should've known that, but still.
"C'mon, Joey! This is your fault!" she said to herself as she paced her empty
office. "You shouldn't have ditched him like that yesterday morning! You
know you've let him do something that you haven't let anyone since PACEY
do!"
"Have sex? Na... that's not the problem. See, Joey, you let yourself feel...
a certain way about him," she said to herself in the mirror, trying to counsel
herself. "Sure, you've had several one night stands since Pacey, well...
died. All of which you were DRUNK before and during. After them you just had
a hangover and a head full of regret. Let's be honest here. If he's the ONLY
guy since Pacey who you were actually GLAD was still there in the morning...
why'd you tell him to leave?"
In a much less professional voice, now playing the part of the patient, she
replied to herown question by sobbing, "BECAUSE I'M STUPID!"
Professional again. "And this time, instead of regretting SLEEPING with him,
you regret asking him to leave."
"More like DEMANDING that he leave."
"Well, yes, asking him to leave."
"Ok then. Yes, I regret it. But I'm afraid."
"That's understandable."
"Brett? What're you doing here?" Isabelle asked as Pacey trudged into the pub.
"Aren't you meant to be seeing Natalie?"
Pacey just grunted, ignoring her.
"Hey, John! Gimme a beer!" Pacey yelled, distracting John from the football
game he was watching on the old TV.
"Sure thing, Brett," he replied, turning away from the TV, yet still listening.
"No, John. Don't," Isabelle said.
Both men looked at her oddly.
"John, I need to talk to Brett. ALONE."
"O...k," John said hesitantly. "I'll just go... to the backroom."
"You do that," Isabelle muttered.
"Brett! Why the hell aren't you seeing Natalie?!" she asked once John had left
the room.
"It's not worth it," he replied. "She's a pretty sh*t counsellor."
"I've been with her for a LOT longer than you, and I've found her to be nothing
but a FANTASTIC, kind, dedicated and helpful woman," she defended 'Natalie'.
"And as you yourself pointed out, you've never spent the night at her
place. You've never been to a party of hers. And I sure as hell hope you've
never---"
Pacey stopped himself just in time.
"Never what? C'mon, Brett. What is it that you've done with her that you
'sure as hell' hope I haven't done?"
Pacey groaned. "Yes. You were right, ok?"
Isabelle smiled a smile that clearly said, 'Ha! I knew it!'
"F*CK YOU, ISABELLE!" Pacey spat venemously. "Oh, and while you're at it,
wipe that stupid smirk off your face!"
And with that, he stromed out of the pub, leaving Isabelle confused and hurt.
Joey pulled her car to the side of the road and climbed out.
It was a warm night in Capeside. It was also pitch black.
She took a moment to let her eyes adjust, then started walking through the
cemetary.
She knelt down beside Pacey's grave and lay down the flowers.
"Pacey. A lot has changed since last time I came down here..."
Jack sat alone at the bus stop near OBMUD BOOKS.
He wasn't really planning on going in to see Andie again. He didn't have the
guts.
He just wanted to be there.
He wanted to see his only sister go home. To see what a success she'd become.
No wonder she didn't want to know him anymore. He was a loser! He had no job.
He had no house. Hell, he didn't even have food!
He watched her as she locked up the doors and punched a code into the
security system.
She started walking away, and she walked straight past him. Not even noticing
that he was there.
She stopped after about two steps. She stepped backwards and stood there.
After what seemed like FOREVER, she pulled him into a big hug.
"I'm sorry, Jack. My life's scary. And I'm REALLY confused, but you've always
been there to help me figure things out."
"I'm sorry too. For yelling at you before. I missed you. You held together
our group. I guess it was just too much responsibility for a seventeen year
old girl. I just... I miss my sister."
Andie smiled warmly. For the first time in years, it was a real, genuine smile.
"You want a lift?" she offered.
"Where to?"
"Your house," she said, her voice indicating that it should be obvious.
"I'm sleeping here."
"Here?" Andie asked, confused.
"Yep. Bus stop. Park bench. They're the same damn thing!"
"You've been sleeping on park benches?"
"Nope. Not really. I... I don't have a place to sleep," he said. Replying
to Andie's unasked question, he said, "My boyfriend chucked me out. I was gonna
go to a motel or something, but I've only got thirty bucks on me."
"C'mon. You can stay at my place for a while. 'Til you and your boyfriend
work things out."
"That's not gonna happen," Jack said sadly. "Things between James and I are
over. Permanently."
"I'm sorry," Andie said sympathetically. "Well... the offer's there. You can
come over if you want to. But if you think hard, cold wood is gonna be comfier,
then feel free to sleep here."
"I'm sure we've got a LOT to talk about!" Jack replied.
Andie laughed. "So you'll come with me?"
"Definitely," Jack replied.
Neither of them were really sure what just happened, but both felt that a giant
weight had been lifted off their shoulders.
After all. Whatever doesn't kill you can only make you stronger.
Pacey pushed away the stuff piled up around his mirror.
'Why did it all start going wrong?' he asked himself. 'Why was I destined to
be a loser all my life? Why can't I change my fate? Why do I screw everything
up?'
He closed his eyes and left out a long, deep sigh.
His trailer was stuffy and humid. He felt sick. Not from the disgusting air,
but from everything. His whole life. It had been one stuff up after another.
He saw something out of the corner of his eye. It was near the bottom of the
mirror.
"TRUE LOVE?" he read, shocked.
No. He was seeing things. Why did he think he was seeing those words?
"I'm going insane," he muttered.
There they were again.
TRUE LOVE.
Haunting him.
Just like everything did these days.
He glanced down at the desk the mirror hung above.
It was true.
In the mirror it said 'TRUE LOVE'.
On the paper, it said:
EVOLEURT!!!
Pacey rapidly pulled his car up outside 'Natalie's' house.
Her car wasn't there, and all the lights were off.
Pacey silently wondered why she wasn't home at three am.
He knocked on the door. No answer. He knocked again, harder this time.
Still no answer.
Shrugging, he bent down and lifted up the welcome mat. Just as he had guessed,
there was a spare key sitting under it.
He opened the door then quietly stepped inside, shutting it after him.
Feeling like a criminal, he wandered silently into her empty bedroom...
Joey pulled her car up at six am that same morning.
She was dead tired, but it she was used to it now.
Sticking the key into the lock and turning it, she found that it was already
open.
"No. I DEFINITELY locked it," she muttered to herself.
Several lights were on.
'Sh*t! What if someone's in the house?' she thought to herself, frightened by
the thought.
Picking up an umbrella which was sitting right inside the door, she cautiously
stepped into the house.
"GET THE F*CK OUT OF MY HOUSE!" she screamed as she opened her bedroom door
after hearing noises coming from that room.
Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw there.
Her cupboard was WIDE open, and on the floor sat the guy she had thought of as
'Brett Younger'.
In one hand he held the shirt, and in the other, the 'TRUE LOVE' plaque.
"Anything you'd like to tell me, JOEY?!" he asked.
This chapter was written in (gasp!) two days! My record!
Yeah, it was written in such a hurry, 'cos on the 7th of December, I'm going
to New Zealand. I'll be away for six weeks ('til the 18th of January). So
it's VERY unlikely that I'll update before then. But don't worry. I'll
probably have it all written by the time I get back, and I'll be able to give
you LONG updates!
Promise!
In the meantime, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE email me! I'll be checking my email
from my frieds' place, so DON'T THINK THAT YOU WON'T GET AWAY WITH NOT SENDING
ME SOMETHING!
[email protected]
