Well, I didn’t get my coat.

When I went back to the B&B, I was hopeful and completely, foolishly optimistic.  I fully believed that when I got there, she’d probably be alone and I could talk to her.  I’d tell her that Pacey is going to ruin her future, and she’d listen.  I’d tell her that Pacey isn’t what’s best for her, and she’d believe me.  I’d tell her that I’m only looking out for her best interests because I care so much, and she’d love me.

I walked into her unlocked house and saw the half-finished dishes and figured she’d gone to her bedroom for a moment and she’d be right back.  Since that’s where I left my jacket anyway, I headed in that direction.

As I neared her bedroom, I began to hear them.  I should have stopped right there, should have turned around and gotten as far away from them as I could, but what did I do?

I walked a little closer, my heart frozen, my breath still.  Her door had been left slightly ajar and through it I had a clear view of the bed.

I wish I hadn’t seen what I did.  I wish I had left as soon as I heard them, as soon as I realized, between her breathy cries and his moaning, what they were doing.  But I didn’t, because I couldn’t believe that my Joey, my beautiful, virginal Joey, was having sex with Pacey.

But my heart couldn’t dispute what I saw with my very own eyes.  Through the slightly opened door I watched, rooted to the spot, as she rode him.  I watched while she pinched her nipples, as he gripped her thrusting hips so tightly his fingers dug into her flesh.  I don’t know how long I stood there watching, but it was only when she cried out his name in the obvious throes of orgasm that I found the strength to move.

I didn’t bother with being quiet, and I don’t care if they heard me.  I had to get outside because the house is too hot, too stuffy, and I can’t breathe.

Outside in the freezing cold, once again I realized that I’ve left my coat.  There’s no way in hell I’m going back in there, God knows I’ll never be able to wear it without thinking of it being in the same room while they . . . I can’t even think it.

I don’t consciencely remember driving home, but I’m here nonetheless.  Well, technically, I’m in the driveway, sitting in my father’s SUV.  I’m still so shocked I feel nothing; I don’t feel hurt, I don’t feel anger, I don’t feel betrayal.

But then I make the mistake of resting my eyes and there it is, the vision burned for all eternity onto my brain:  Pacey’s hips arching them both off the bed as he came deep inside the woman that I love while said soulmate cried out his name in the midst of her own release. 

My arms fold over the steering wheel and I rest my forehead against them, trying to quell the urge to throw up.  It hasn’t hurt until now, and it’s pouring over me in waves.  Just when I feel like I’m not going to be able to fight off tears any longer, the passenger side door opens and Jen gets in.

“God, it’s cold,” she says, slamming the door shut after her and shivering delicately.  “I saw you sitting in here and decided I’d come and keep you company while you freeze your ass off.  Why don’t you at least turn on the heater?”

I sit back and rest my head against the back of my seat and I let out a deep, shuddering breath.  The need to purge the contents of my stomach lessens by the minute, and it feels as though my heart is beginning to beat in something resembling a pattern. 

It’s long minutes before I can speak, though, and in that time she’s turned the truck on and cranked the heater.  She silences the radio, which blared to life with some indiscernible pop princess singing her heart out about endless love.

Finally, she breaks the silence.  “Why don’t you have a coat on, Dawson?  The temperature’s in the single digits and the wind chill is negative 20.  Aren’t you cold?”

“I’m not much of anything at the moment,” I tell her flatly.  “And I’m going to burn my coat the second I’m alone after she inevitably gives it back to me.

Her face is puzzled when I glance at her. “What are you talking about?” 

“That coat,” I begin in a jovial tone laced with bitterness, “is nothing I want to put on my body ever again.  In fact, I might not ever wear a coat.  I don’t seem to be feeling the cold, anyway.”

“You’re not making any sense, Dawson,” she says, her brows knitting in confusion.  “Did you go to get it and get in a fight?”

I can’t bring myself to put what I saw into words.  “Something like that.”

She nods sympathetically, her eyes full of friendship and understanding.  My skin crawls.  “I figured you’d be upset after hearing that they plan to go away together instead of letting college come between them.”

I wonder for a moment if I can even discuss it, and it seems I can because I hear myself begin to say what I’d been thinking on my way to Joey’s house.  “Don’t they see that they’re making a huge mistake?  It’s ridiculous for them to even be considering it.  How would it work out?  You can’t tell me Joey would be happy, working herself to the bone between school and waitressing and living in a tiny apartment with a man who tagged along because he couldn’t let her go.”

She’s going to defend them, I can just tell.   “Dawson, I don’t think you’re seeing this clearly.”

“Oh, really?  I see an incredibly intelligent woman with a bright future ahead of her letting herself be limited by an underachieving slacker who can’t see that he’s just going to hinder her in the long run,” I tell her.  “What do you see?”

“I see three people who grew up together the best of friends.  I see two of those people happy in love while the third remains stagnant and bitter, unable to accept the fact that they’re together,” she says immediately. 

She’s thought about this and she’s going to argue.  Fucking great, that’s what I need.  “They’re not going to be able to work out.  Can’t you see that?  They’re serious about each other now, but what do you think is going to happen next year, when she’s immersed in the intellectual world of whichever Ivy League school she attends and he’s dead tired from attending community college and working long hours in a factory to pay the rent?  Do you think they’ll be so serious about each other then?”

“Who knows?  I don’t.  And neither do you,” she points out stubbornly.  “But I, for one, believe they’ll make it.  For another, you don’t know the half of it.”

“What?”

She looks as though she knows she’s said too much, and tries to backpedal.  “I mean, they could have plans that we don’t know about.  Maybe.”

I narrow my eyes at her as she squirms.  Jen isn’t someone who squirms.  “What do you know?”

She sighs and considers it a moment and then I guess she comes to the realization that I’m not going to let up on this.  “Dawson, let me ask you something.  How do you think the decision to live together and attend college in the same place came about?”

How does she think it came about?  He wouldn’t let her go.  “I assume she made mention of the fact that she’s going to go to an Ivy League college and he couldn’t deal with the thought of her going away without him.  So he decided to go with her and she agreed.”

“You assume wrong, Dawson.”

Not surprising tonight.  “Do you know how it came about?”

“Yes.”

I don’t want to know.  “How?”

She looks at me and I’m comforted by the fact that whatever she’s about to say can’t possibly be any worse than what I saw.  “She was actually thinking about staying here in Capeside to be with him.”

“What?”  Oh my God. I'd had an inking, but I never wanted to have it confirmed. “No.”

“Yeah,” Jen nods.  She was willing to give up her entire future to stay here, the place she’s longed to get away from all her life.  I can’t seem to process this.  It’s too unrealistic.

“No,” I reiterate.  “Joey’s too smart to even think about staying here just to be with him.”
“Don’t you see how in love with him she is?”  Jen asks quietly. 

“Actually, I got to see it first hand.”

“What do you mean?”  She sounds confused and for a moment I don’t know if I’m able to put into words what I saw.

“When I left earlier this evening, I left my coat in her bedroom,” I begin slowly.  “But I was so upset, I didn’t feel the cold as I sat on the dock and thought about what a mistake she’s making.  I went over it and over it in my head and I came to the foolish conclusion of going back and talking to her.”

Her mouth drops open and she looks somewhat incredulous.  “You didn’t honestly think that you could talk her out of it, did you?  Through sheer force of will?”

“Through sheer force of logic,” I return.  “Anyway, I went there hoping to catch her alone, using the excuse of my forgotten coat to get me in the door if necessary.”

“Did you fight?  Is that why you’re upset?”  she asks gently.

“No.”

“What happened?”

I take a deep breath and hope I don’t break down.  “I went inside because I saw the lights on and the dishes were half-done, sitting in a sink of steaming hot water.  I figured she went to her room for a moment and as I approached the door, I started to hear them.”

She obviously can see where this is going, because she gasps and whispers “Oh, no.”

“The door was open partially and I know I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help myself.  I looked inside and there she was.  Fucking him.”  I manage to say this calmly, which surprises me.

“I don’t . . . know . . .I don’t know what to say here, Dawson,” she stammers after a moment of shocked silence.

“You know what?  I don’t either.”

She’s quiet for a moment and it comes to me that she isn’t shocked about what I saw, really.  She’s shocked for me because it’s so obviously something I never expected to see.  “Did you know?”

“Know what?” she asks, and the nervous note confirms it.

“That they were . . . active,” I say.  “You did, didn’t you?”

This seems to anger her a little.  “Of course I did.  She and I are close.”

Jen and Joey are close.  Great.  Jack and Joey are close.  Super.  Pacey and Joey are really close.  Fucking fantastic.  “Of course.”

“Dawson, why are you still acting as if they’re betraying you?” she asks, somewhat pissed.  Because enough hasn’t gone wrong tonight.

I think I’m just going to go with honesty on this one.  “Probably because they still are.”

“How so?”

I’m not surprised that she doesn’t see it.  Being close to Joey and all.  The best of friends.  “Because she’s mine.  She’s my soulmate.”

“Fuck that.”

The derisive tone in her casual dismissal bothers me. 

“I believe that.”

“If you truly loved her, Dawson, you’d see that he’s what makes her happy.  He’s what makes her smile, what makes her eyes light up.  Not you,” she says, her tone even.  “And you need to realize that.”

“She should be with me,” I calmly reply.  “But I do know, I do realize that they’re together.  It feels like a knife in the back whenever I see them, and tonight it twisted.  Believe me, I do realize that they are indeed serious about each other.”

Jen stares at me a moment, comprehension washing over her face.  “You’ve been waiting for her to realize the error of her ways, so to speak.  Haven’t you?”

“Jen - “

“This whole act of being there for Joey like the supportive friend you’ve made yourself out to be, you’ve just been biding your time,” she laughs bitterly.  “And Pacey!  You’ve made such a show of reaching out to your former best friend.  We thought that was real, that you were rebuilding your friendship.  But it wasn’t, was it?”

She’s got me there.  “No.  That was for Joey’s benefit.”

“All for Joey, huh?  That’s so noble of you, Dawson.”

“I tried, Jen.  Really, I did,” I tell her sincerely.  “I did miss him and our friendship.  But every time I thought about rebuilding our friendship that he ruined, I’d forget it the moment I saw them together.  Have you noticed how she can’t seem to walk on her own when they’re around each other?  It’s like she loses the ability to put one foot in front of the other without his arm around her.”

“He fell in love with her.  That’s all he did.”

“That’s all, huh?”

“Maybe he didn’t handle it right, maybe he should have told you as soon as he realized he was too forgone.  But yeah, that’s all he did, Dawson,” she says, nodding.  She has no clue.

So I spell it out for her.  “He’s stolen what’s mine, Jen.  He has all my life.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Think about it, Jen,” I say, warming to this particular topic.

She furrows her brow, growing more and more upset.  “You’ve obviously given this enough thought for the both of us, Dawson.  Enlighten me.”

“Growing up, his family life wasn’t great so from time to time he borrowed mine.  In school, he couldn’t make friends of his own so he shared mine.  He couldn’t find his own girlfriend, so he stole mine!”

I started off calmly but I was shouting by the end, surprising even myself by the volume.  The ensuing silence is defining.

Finally, she speaks.  Quietly and plainly she says, “Dawson, I don’t claim to know what you’re going through.  I understand that it’s hard to accept them, especially tonight after what you saw.  But don’t you see?  She’s not coming back.”

“I see that.  I see that more and more every day and it’s killing me, Jen.  I don’t want to be near them anymore,” I tell her, putting my face in my hands.

“That’s too bad, because we’re all friends.  You can’t just pull away from them now, Dawson.”

“Oh, really?”  Watch me.

“Really.  If you do, you’ll regret it.  Friendships like the ones in our group are hard to come by, Dawson, and however much you think you despise them now . . . you might find out later on that you need them.”

Whatever.

“And I can see by the expression on your face that you’re not taking my words to heart.  Maybe this will help.”

I meet her eyes in the semi-darkness of the truck’s interior.  “What?”

“We’re all invited to your parent’s Christmas party tomorrow.  They’re going to be there, they’re going to be happy, and you’re going to have to suck it up and not make a scene,” she tells me.  Orders me, really.  As she continues to look at me, her expression softens somewhat.  “The Dawson I know and love isn’t this petty.  He doesn’t begrudge other people their happiness.  He’s not bitter and disillusioned.  He‘s honest and loving and giving.”

“And look what that got him,” I can’t help but say. 

“That got him five friends who love him, that’s what.”

I heave a sigh and look out the window at the snow.  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jen.”

She touches my shoulder as she says, “I care about you, Dawson.”

I turn to face her, a sharp reply at the ready, but her eyes are sincere.  She does care.  “Thank you, Jen.”

“Goodnight,” she says as she climbs out of the SUV, shutting the door behind her with a wave.

Alone again, I close my eyes, suddenly exhausted.  Almost immediately I regret doing so because I see them once again in my mind.  My mind lingers on the details, which seem to be burnt into my inner eyelids. 

Her movements were so full of passion as she screwed him.  A passion the likes of which she hardly displayed toward me.  He gets that.  The rosy pink of her nipples as she toyed with them?  I’ve never seen her breasts bare before tonight.  Again that’s for him, he gets to have that sight.  When she came, it was his name she cried out, over and over again.  Not mine.

I don’t know how I’m going to face them after tonight.  How can I look at her tomorrow and not come unglued, knowing she’s given him her virginity God knows how long ago.  She was supposed to wait for me, for us.  How am I supposed to look at him and smile when I know, having seen for myself, that he’s been inside her? 

I guess I just keep on going like I have.  Maybe she’ll wake up before it’s too late and realize that she needs to move on with her life after graduation, without him.  Maybe one day I’ll look at Pacey and not want to break his nose again for loving who he had no right to.

The images continue to float through my consciousness, despite my best efforts to keep them at bay.  I wish I hadn’t gone to the door, hadn’t seen what I did.  I wish to God they hadn’t been doing what they were.  The sight of her riding him is going to haunt me for a long, long time. 

For a moment I wonder who’s screaming, the voice full of sorrow, raw and grating. 

Then I realize that it’s me.