I wake with thoughts of him in my head.  In the dream he was near me - in my bed, our bodies tangled together as the morning sun seeped in through my curtains, dancing in patches of light over our skin.

When I realize he isn’t here I feel annoyed, a wave of frustration washes over me that I had never experienced before him.  Until mornings like this when I want nothing more than to roll over into his arms and lose myself there, in the warmth of what is between us.

But I rise and respond to my sister who is reminding me of the time from outside my bedroom door.  I measure the steps until I will see him - first the shower, then dressing, breakfast, followed by drying my hair.  It will take 7 minutes to get to school and as long as he isn’t late - less than an hour until I can feel his touch, kiss his lips, tell him what I dreamt.

Unless he oversleeps - a distinct possibility where Pacey is concerned.  To confirm that he isn’t going to throw a wrench into my careful schedule, I call him while I dig through my clothes.

“Pacey, are you up?”

“In what sense?” he drawls at me.  Out of old habit I want to chastise him, but my new habit is to indulge him because it’s sexier.

“Sweetheart if we explore that little double entendre - neither of us will get to school on time!” I whisper over the line.

“Hey! Who you calling ‘little’?!” he teases back.  It could go on all day like this - over the phone, which is definitely not how I want him right now.

“Pacey?” I say in my sweetest voice possible, “I don’t want you to be late for school.  I need to see you before homeroom.  Will you be there?”

I can hear him grinning even over the line, “You got your ride?”

“I do.”

“Then I’ll do you one better - I’ll meet you in the parking lot.  Deal?”

“Love you.” I sigh.

“You better!”

What is it they say about the best laid plans?  Turns out Pacey isn’t the one who needed reminding about getting to school on time - in fact the person more in need of that particular call this morning would have been me - or rather, my sister.

Despite being ready to leave for school on time, Bessie found some crisis that just had to be dealt with before she could take me.  By the time we had finished arguing about getting me there, everyone else had already left home, and she was once again my sole hope of being able to meet Pacey - and get to my first class with a reasonable excuse.

Arriving outside the school I scan the parking lot for him and experience a twinge of disappointment that he isn’t still there waiting for me.  That is matched by a feeling of relief that he went in to school and to his first class like a student who is aiming to graduate in only a few months should.

The morning which started out so nicely before I first opened my eyes, starts taking on a long, torturous pace.  Three classes pass by as I watch the clock and try to focus - attempt to listen to the teachers and process my answers.  I try not to think about him and how much I miss him, but I can’t stop calculating how overdue I am in seeing him.

All my attempts are futile under the watchful eye of Mr. Kasdan, “Miss Potter, are you joining us today?” all eyes turn to me as I abruptly shift my mind away from the thought of his hands - sliding knowingly over my skin, and pretend that I actually know what the class was just talking about.

At my locker my frustration level starts to flare.  All I’ve wanted is to see him again, lose myself in him even for just a moment.  It is totally distracting me, and now he is nowhere to be found.  The day is hellish, and long, and it is not even lunchtime yet.

I shove my books into the back of my locker, and they rattle the door as they land.  The sound is suddenly silenced by a hand that reaches out to still it.  I’ve barely even looked up before the hand has moved to my waist, the other meeting it around the curve of my hips.

“How’s it goin’, Potter?” his voice is low and warm in my ear.  My aggravation of only a moment ago quickly begins melting away under his touch.  I close my eyes and take a second to just enjoy the sensation of his fingers pressing into me, holding me gently - but with a firmness that tells me I can’t get away.

“I’m having a really bad morning,” I mumble, and I can already hear the drowsy desire in my voice.

“Funny - it didn’t sound that way on the phone.” His fingers have found the strip of my bare skin that was exposed when I reached up into the locker.  Softly he strokes it, and I shiver.  “So what happened between the call, you standing me up in the parking lot, and right now?”

“Bessie made me late - that was the first thing.  Then I missed seeing you, that was the second thing.  And then Kasdan caught me daydreaming about seeing you, so that was the third thing.  And I couldn’t find you so that was - I guess, the fourth.”

He chuckles in my ear and slides his arms around me to capture me in a hug.  “You’re a bad girl, Joey Potter.”

“Not as bad as I want to be.” I mutter.  I’m actually surprised to hear myself say that out loud.  But that’s what wanting him does to me - makes me do and say things I never imagined I would.  Makes me crave things I’ve never even allowed myself to think about before let alone explore.  But he makes it all safe, comfortable and always completely, utterly, mind-blowingly exciting.

Nearby Melissa Pound arrives and opens up her locker.  Pacey pulls me in closer to him, and I rest my head against his shoulder as he whispers in my ear, “If you don’t have any plans after school - I’d love some company over at my very empty, very private,” I can feel Melissa’s eyes darting away from us, “house on the beach.  There you can be just as bad as you want.  Interested?”

My whole body is buzzing with anticipation of just the thought of an afternoon alone with him.  The only thing distracting me from it is the feel of his body as it presses against mine, each of us completely oblivious to the people moving around us.  I don’t answer right away and with his foot he tilts the locker door open enough so my mirror is visible.

In the reflection I see the two of us - my head back, his forward over my shoulder.  Dark hair mingling together and flushed skin revealing the extent of our arousal.  He has an eyebrow raised and the hint of a grin at the corner of his mouth.  I look like I’m about to blow off my next class and drag him into the boiler room with me.

“I’ll meet you in the parking lot.” I manage to say, my hands running along his arms as they rest against my stomach.

“Huh - where have I heard that one before?” his face breaks into the grin, and my eyes fix on him in the mirror.

“Oh I’ll be there.” my mouth curls into its own flirty smile, and he lifts his head and nods at me.

“That’s my girl.  Now you gonna turn around and give me a kiss goodbye?”

“Pacey, have you ever heard the expression ‘get a room’?”  our eyes remain locked together in the mirror, and he nods again, “Well if I start kissing you now - we’ll be hearing a lot of that.”

He laughs loudly and starts loosening his grip on me, “Damn! You are a bad girl, Josephine Potter!” Letting me go, he turns and heads down the hall.  Finally daring to look over my shoulder at him, I laugh as I catch his satisfied strut retreating away from me.

Making it to lunch becomes the goal.  Making it past that will be a breeze, two more classes and one of them is phys ed.  Of course making it through lunch may be more trying than I originally thought, as Jen sits down next to me with a wide smile on her face.

“So,” she starts off and I can already tell where she’s headed, “can I ask you a question?”

“If I say no - you’re going to ask anyway aren’t you?” I make an attempt.

“Pretty much, yeah.”  She unscrews her juice bottle and takes a long drink.  “So it may be in your best interest to answer me now before Jack comes over here, and you have to end up dishing to me and your gay ex-boyfriend!”

I can’t help but laugh.  Before I slept with Pacey I would have thought it was far too embarrassing a topic to chat about with someone like Jen.  Now I realize that I have nothing to be ashamed of - I’m happy, I’m having fun, I’m in love - and frankly, I think I need a little girl-to-girl gossip on the topic.

Looking right at her I simply say “Yes.”  The sound she makes as she slaps the table and nearly hollers “I knew it!!” does, however, cause me to cover my face with my hands.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she whispers, “but I totally knew it.  It was the ski trip wasn’t it? When you guys missed the bus?”

I nod my head and try not to giggle.  It feels so silly to be sitting in the middle of the lunchroom discussing this with Jen Lindley of all people - but somehow it seems right.

“I am so happy for you, Joey!  That’s good right? I mean, you’re happy aren’t you?” she watches me, and I exaggerate a contented sigh for her benefit:

“I’m happy.”

“Very very happy?” she pulls her chair in closer to me, “Oh my god - don’t answer that.  I can’t believe I even asked it!  Wow - that was so…”

“Jen,” I cut her off, “it’s okay - really!  Can I ask you something now?”

“Totally - Joey - anything.”

Leaning her head in close to mine I whisper “Is it normal to be turned on like, all the time?  To find yourself doing nothing but fantasizing about being with the other person, or just spending hours reliving every moment of your last encounter?”

She looks up at me and asks, “Is that what it’s like?”

Nodding my head I continue, “He like, makes me crazy.  Sometimes even the slightest, most innocent touch or even a look will nearly knock me to the ground.  I’ve never felt anything like it in my life!”

“Do you like the way that feels?”

“Yeah” I nod my head, “I love it.”

“Then it is perfectly normal, Joey,” she leans back in her chair and smiles, “You love him, you want him, you should enjoy it!”

“Enjoy what?” Jack drops his tray down next to me and pulls out a chair.

“The weather.” Jen lies taking another sip of her juice, “It’s a lovely day out, isn’t it Joey?”

“Definitely.  I can’t wait to get out and enjoy it.”

“Why do I think you guys aren’t talking about weather?” Jack eyes us curiously.  No doubt our simultaneous bursts of laughter do nothing to dispel his suspicions.

The last bell has barely stopped ringing before we eagerly jump in his truck and head for his house.  As with all my rides today - apparently this one isn’t going to be smooth either.

“Where are you going?” I ask as he flips on his turn signal and starts heading towards town.

“I gotta pick something up.” he says casually.

“What?”  I can’t believe the demanding edge in my voice, he is probably seconds away from rightfully accusing me of nymphomania.

“Something.” he says coyly as he winds his way towards a parking spot.

“Pacey, why aren’t you looking at me?  What are you getting?”

“Do you have to know everything, Jo?” he is getting far too much enjoyment out of taunting me.  “Can’t a guy have any secrets from his adoring woman?”

“I don’t know, Pace - when I find her I’ll tell you.”

“Ooohh! Good one, Josephine!” he pulls into a spot and turns off the engine, “While you’re at it, could you give her a message for me?  Tell her I had to run in and pick up some condoms because my insatiable girlfriend has exhausted my stash.”

“Is that what you’re getting?”

He nods his head at me, and I start to giggle at the ridiculous urgency of the whole thing.  He leans over to give me a kiss on the forehead, and I catch his chin as he pulls away from me.

“Are you really out of condoms, or is this some twisted sort of foreplay to you?” I tease.

Kissing me on the lips he murmurs against my mouth “Wouldn’t you like to know.”  And with that he leaves me alone in the truck as he heads towards the drugstore.

The only thing we bring inside with us is the flat rectangular package Pacey picked up in town that is shoved in his jacket pocket.

The house, as he promised - is quiet and completely empty of anyone but ourselves.  Gretchen has taken on extra shifts at the restaurant to make money to return to school, leaving us alone for at least another couple hours.

Perfect for just the kind of unsupervised activities that Pacey and I find ourselves engaged in lately whenever we have the chance.  Shutting the door behind us, we are immediately at each other - pushing and tugging at clothes, pulling and grasping at zippers and buttons.  There’s too much clothing, too much space between us, too much distance to even reach his bedroom.

Collapsing on the nearest easy chair he pulls me up until I am straddling him, my knees pressed against the back cushion of the chair as he runs his hands up my thighs - disappearing them under the dark material of my skirt.  I pull my shirt over my head and drop it to the floor.  Pressing myself into him I cover him in kisses - his face, and neck, my hands searching for the buttons of his shirt so I can expose his skin to mine.

It isn’t always this frenzied.  Sometimes it is slow and sweet - as gentle and romantic as the first time.  Other times it is silly, or very intense, or even daring.  That’s one thing that surprised me - it’s always different.  I had no idea what to expect before I had sex, and now every time is so unique from the last that I still don’t know what each time will bring us.

But today - in the seconds before I even opened my eyes - I knew I would experience this.  The hunger for him was so great it drove my entire day, my entire being towards this one moment.

He groans as his shirt falls away and our bare skin meets, his voice blending with my own as he firmly rubs his thumb over the ache covered only by the thin material of my panties.  He briefly pulls away from me, and I instinctively thrust myself hard against him, determined not to lose any contact.

“Shhhhhh…it’s ok, Jo…” his eyes look up and meet mine, “I just need to get - my coat.”  Looking towards where he's reaching I remember the condoms are inside the pocket.

“I’ll get it.” I whisper and as I turn and lean over the arm of the chair he bends his head and gives me soft baby kisses along my side, from my waist, up and over my shoulder - his hand pulling the strap of my bra down to the side as his mouth captures the exposed skin.

Feeling the package in my hand, I barely am able to rise from where I’m draped over the side of the chair.  He has an ability to excite and exhaust me all at the same time that never ceases to be exhilarating.  Shifting me on his lap so he can undo his pants causes a surge of hunger in me, and I pull myself up and shove the package into his hand.

“Let me.” I pant as I unlatch his belt buckle and eagerly head for the zipper.

“Are you gonna tell me your dream?” he murmurs as he pulls a foil envelope out of the box.

“What dream?” I mumble, concentrating so much on what is coming next that I completely forget what came before.

“The one you had this morning, you were telling me on the way over - you said you’d tell me the dream before we…” he gasps as my hands slide into his pants, coaxing them off his hips.

“This was the dream,” I breathe as we come impossibly closer to fulfilling it, “You always make it come true.”  And in the instant that I close my eyes, we are more perfect than I ever could have imagined it.