Made To Love You Chapter Five by: Kelli

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Belief

Pacey trudged slowly up the steps of his front porch, hoping like hell the fact that the driveway was completely devoid of cars, not to mention the house being totally dark and quiet, meant not one member of his loving and devoted family was home. He really didn’t want to deal with any of them right now, not after the day he just had. Actually, it hadn’t started off that badly. He suffered through a typical day at Capeside High, sleeping through pointless lectures and shrugging off unwanted random homework assignments that he would most likely feed to the proverbial dog anyway. When the final bell rang, signaling he was free to leave the prison they tried to pass off as a place of higher learning, Pacey was in a pretty good mood. But, like most good things in his life, it didn’t last for very long, and he had one Miss Josephine Potter to thank for ruining it.

Pacey opened the screen door and then shoved his key in the lock, twisting it roughly. He flung open the door and stepped inside, slamming it behind him, the loud bang echoing through the silence.

“Anybody home?” he called out in a sarcastically sweet tone, knowing full well that even if someone were there, they wouldn’t answer him anyway. His family didn’t give a damn whether he came home or not, and they were never waiting eagerly to greet him if he did. When his question went unanswered, Pacey released a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, feeling both relief at having the house to himself, as well as frustration for letting the bitch that was Joey Potter get to him.

He made his way to the kitchen, running a hand through his damp, wavy, brown hair, which was wet because, of course, it started raining while he was walking home. You know, just to make things that much better for him. It seemed that was to be the story of his life, always caught in a torrential downpour of bad luck and disappointment without an umbrella, destined to be drenched with them for the rest of his miserable days. He automatically went for the refrigerator, searching for something to eat only out of habit; he wasn’t hungry at all, having lost his appetite after hearing Joey’s glowing remarks about him. He was about to open the refrigerator when he noticed a note taped to it. Scanning it, he chuckled bitterly to himself. It was from his mom, informing Pacey that his parents were now on their way to Boston for an impromptu long weekend courtesy of Deputy Dougie. Apparently, their beloved first-born gave them an early anniversary gift, and they wouldn’t be back until late Sunday night, leaving him to fend for himself until then.

“Well, isn’t that just so romantic,” Pacey mumbled as he began pulling on the refrigerator door. He stopped suddenly, letting it close again, a better idea popping into his head at that moment.

He walked across the kitchen and into the living room, stopping in front of the liquor cabinet. He might not be hungry, but he sure could use a drink right about now. He knew that his dad never bothered to keep the cabinet locked, and now that he conveniently had the house to himself for the next few days, the temptation to drown his sorrows was too great to pass up. He ripped into his dad’s stash of liquor and grabbed the first bottle he came across. His choice of alcohol wasn’t important, just as long as it numbed the overwhelming ache in his chest.

“Nice choice, Witter,” he said as he looked down at the bottle of Tequila in his hands. “Now all I need is some music to set the mood.”

He rummaged through his CD collection, which was stacked on the shelf next to the stereo, until he came across the one he was looking for. It was a disc he made for situations like the one he currently found himself in. He popped it into the player and grabbed the stereo remote before falling back on the couch.

He started to open the bottle of Tequila when he hesitated. Did he really wanna do this? Wouldn’t getting drunk and wallowing in self-pity just prove what a loser he really was? Did he want Joey to be right? His mind involuntarily drifted to what he overheard earlier, her self-righteous criticism ringing through his ears…

Pacey's just…he's a moron and a loser. Not to mention, he acts like a complete Neanderthal with no manners or brains in his head whatsoever…there are about a million reasons why I could never love someone like Pacey…

He could still see her standing behind the counter at the Icehouse, spitting off insults about him to some strange woman no less, and not showing any remorse at all. It was obvious she didn’t care for him and probably never would, so why should he give a damn what she thought anyway?

Without another moment’s hesitation, Pacey cracked open the bottle, and then pointed the remote at the stereo as he pushed the play button. The room filled with the pulsating sounds of a guitar as a man’s voice began singing angrily, his message one that Pacey could identify with perfectly right now…

Whatever poison’s in this bottle
will leave me broken, sore and stiff.
But it's the genie at the bottom who I'm sucking at,
he owes me one last wish.
So here's a present to let you know I still exist;
I hope the next boy that you kiss has something terribly contagious on his lips…

Pacey laughed at the irony of the lyrics to the first song on his CD of ‘angry music’, which he listened to whenever life pissed him off, which seemed to be happening a lot lately. He raised his bottle in a toast, “To Josephine, may the next boy that you kiss have something terribly contagious on his lips.” He repeated the words of the song with a scowl on his face, his voice icy cold, cursing Joey Potter before he brought the bottle to his lips. He threw his head back and took a long swig, the alcohol burning his throat and setting ablaze a fire in his chest. Pacey flinched, but he didn’t mind the sensation. Anything was better than the pain Joey inflicted on him.

He took another drink, this time wishing he could forget Joey ever existed. He didn’t know if it was possible, but he was going to give it a good try, and the Tequila would definitely help him do it quicker.

But I got a plan (I got a plan).
To drink for forty days and forty nights,
A sip for every second-hand tick,
And every time you fed the line
“you mean so much to me”.
I'm without you…

Joey Potter could rot in hell for all he cared; he was done with her.

Okay, no more songs about you. After this one I am done.
You're gone.

~*~

Joey carefully climbed down the ladder from Dawson’s room, wary of the slippery rungs she was stepping on, beads of rain clinging to them leftover from the unexpected downpour that started just before she left The Icehouse. If she would’ve bolted from the restaurant when her shift ended, as she normally did, she would be soaked right now, but luckily her departure was delayed. She and Kat, her new Made Coach, continued their ‘getting to know you’ meeting, which went on much longer than she thought it should, even if it did save her from a rainy walk home.

She wasn’t sure yet how she felt about Kat. She seemed nice at first, but things got considerably awkward, to say the least, after Kat insisted Joey was in love with Pacey. After that, she was distracted and didn’t pay much attention as Kat rambled on and on about what she had planned for her over the next six weeks. She got lost somewhere in between the personal trainer Kat wanted her to work with, which Joey thought was completely unnecessary as she already knew how to exercise, and the grueling practice interviews she would have to endure in preparation for the pageant. As hard as she tried to focus on Kat, she just couldn’t get Pacey out of her mind. Why did Kat’s assumptions about the two of them bother her so much?

Joey stepped down off the last rung and onto the wet grass. She adjusted the backpack she was carrying on her shoulders while tightly gripping another book-bag in her left hand. The heavier of the two was on her back and belonged to her, while the other much lighter one belonged to the boy who was occupying her thoughts at this very moment. Pacey forgot his black bag at The Icehouse, which Joey only discovered when she tripped over it while carrying a stack of dirty dishes, narrowly escaping a shattered dish disaster. She originally planned to just wait until tomorrow and give it to him in school, but then decided he might need it to do his homework. Although, judging by its weight, she highly doubted it. This was Pacey; when did he ever do homework?

Still, something told her she had to return it tonight. So, she went to Dawson’s house where Pacey was supposed to be working on an American History project, only to find he never made it there in the first place. Apparently, he bailed on them in favor of spending some quality time with his family, which struck them all as more than a little odd, since Pacey never willingly hung out with any member of the Witter clan.

As usual, Dawson wasn't concerned about his best friend, chalking up Pacey's lame excuse and hasty retreat to his well-known tendency to avoid anything school related. Normally, Joey would agree with this theory, but something Jen said gave her a reason to question Pacey's motives. After Dawson brushed it off as nothing, Jen added with much more concern that Pacey seemed upset. She told Joey that after they left The Icehouse initially, Pacey remembered his forgotten backpack and went back to retrieve it. Jen said when he returned it was obvious something was bothering him, but he took off before she could question him about it. Jen asked her if something happened when Pacey came looking for his backpack, but Joey said she didn't even see him.

She promised Jen she would try to get some answers out of Pacey when she dropped off his bag, and now she was on her way to his house to do just that. He had been a good friend to her lately, comforting her that night down on the boardwalk after Dawson upset her, and also tonight at the Icehouse when that nasty customer pushed her over the edge. It was the least she could do to try and return the favor. The only problem was, Joey feared she was the one who caused his strange behavior in the first place. Even though she denied knowing anything about Pacey's sudden change in mood, she couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach that said otherwise. She remembered her earlier conversation with Kat about Pacey, in which she might’ve gone a little overboard in her haste to deny her love for him. She called him a moron and a loser, among other things.

What if her overheard her?

He couldn’t have; she would’ve seen him, right?

And even if he did hear her, what difference would it make? She’d thrown harsher jabs his way many times before, and he never took offense; he just gave it right back. So why should this time be any different?

Besides, it’s not like she really meant what she said. Kat just caught her off guard with her insistence that she was interested in Pacey, and she overreacted, that’s all. She didn’t actually think Pacey was a moron. Well, not all the time anyway. Although, she most definitely wasn’t in love with him either. She still didn’t know how Kat could come up with such a ridiculous notion. Pacey was just her friend, and she knew that underneath all of his goofiness he was a good guy. He was also very loyal when it came to the people he cared about. That much was evident in the way he came to her rescue tonight and in the words of comfort he offered…

You're so much better than her, you know that, don't you…You're an amazing person, and if the narrow-minded inhabitants of this godforsaken little town can't see that, then that's their problem and their loss…

As Joey continued her trek to Pacey’s, she finally allowed herself to focus on what transpired earlier at the restaurant. She didn't really have time to contemplate what happened between her and Pacey until just now, or rather maybe she didn’t want to. Her relationship with him had definitely taken a bizarre turn as of late, and Joey had been doing her best to avoid any analysis of that subject whatsoever. She kept telling herself she didn’t have time to deal with it. She would figure it out later, all the while hoping things would just go back to normal. She was beginning to think that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, and her only option was to try to make sense of it all, but she had no idea where she should even start. To say she was surprised that Pacey seemed to be her biggest supporter at the moment would be an understatement. The way he defended her with so much conviction left her stunned.

Tonight, you arrested my mind,
when you came to my defense
with a knife in the shape of your mouth...

His words weren't the only thing that startled her. The tender way in which he took her in his arms and let her cry on his shoulder wasn’t something she was anticipating either, although that didn’t mean she didn’t welcome the solace he provided her. As always, Pacey's actions spoke even louder than his words.

...In the form of your body...

The message he was trying to send her with his actions was unclear, especially when he almost kissed her a few minutes later. What was up with that anyway? She thought they moved past the kiss he gave her the night of the carnival, so why was he going there again? She wasn’t sure she wanted to go there herself and turned her attention back to how much Pacey let her lean on him these past few weeks, remembering the promise he made her on the same night he cheered her up after her fight with Dawson… I understand how you feel, Jo. I really do, and I want you to know that if this is what you really want then I’m with you all the way …He promised her he would stand by her and her decision to appear on Made, and so far he'd made good on that promise, more so than she ever expected...

...with the wrath of a god. Oh, you stood by me...

Belief.

It was pretty ironic that the only person who believed in her right now was Pacey. Pacey had more faith in her than anyone else, including Dawson, whom she once fancied would be her most steadfast ally. What a joke that turned out to be! He was supposed to be her best friend, and he didn’t even seem to be remotely interested in her life or what she was doing with it at the moment. In fact, Pacey was probably the best friend she had right now. She didn’t know why she didn’t see it before. Maybe if she hadn’t been wasting her time sulking over someone who didn’t believe in her, namely Dawson, she would’ve noticed the person who did.

Belief…makes things real, makes things feel…feel alright.

Belief…makes things true, things like you…you and I

Belief can be a very powerful thing. Trusting in someone wholeheartedly, never doubting them, not even for a second, isn’t always easily done. Sometimes, having one person on your side can make all the difference. It can make you feel like you can conquer the world. But, if you take that belief away you run the risk of crushing the spirit of the person you no longer have faith in. Joey understood both instances well, having her hopes crushed by Dawson, only to have Pacey build her confidence once more with his unwavering belief in her.

And how did she repay him? She thoughtlessly belittled him, probably making him feel about as worthless as Dawson made her feel, that is, if he heard her.

Joey silently prayed as hard as she could that he didn’t, not wanting to think about what it would mean if he did.

She quickened her pace, her stomach now in knots, with more twisting and turning with every second that passed. She had to get to Pacey as soon as possible and make sure he was alright. If she did indeed hurt him, she needed to apologize and let him know what she really thought of him.

She still couldn't make sense of what was going on between them, but whatever it was, she was positive she didn't want to lose it.

She couldn't lose Pacey.

I'm going to yell it from the rooftops. I'll wear a sign on my chest.
That's the least I can do…Oh you stood by me and I'll stand by my...

Belief.

~*~

Forty-five minutes and almost a whole bottle of Tequila later, Pacey wasn't any closer to erasing Joey from his memory than when he started indulging. Apparently, all those Public Service Announcements were right when they preached that alcohol wouldn't solve your problems; it really did only make them bigger. He was always the first to spit in the face of authority and refused to admit defeat. In his opinion, he just picked the wrong ‘medicine’ to cure what was ailing him. His dad so graciously left him an abundance of potent concoctions to choose from, and he would just keep testing them until he found the right one.

He stood up from the couch, intent on acquiring more alcohol when he was hit with a wave of dizziness. He eased himself down onto the sofa while the room spun around him, making him feel as if he was on an out of control merry-go-round. He leaned back, sinking into the blue velour cushions and tightly shut his eyes in an attempt to stop the whirling. Much to his dismay, the twirling continued, only now he saw Joey skipping around in a circle, taunting him and chanting ‘Pacey is a loser’ over and over.

Her voice grew louder and louder until finally he couldn’t take it anymore. He forced his eyes open and fumbled around for the stereo remote, quickly raising the volume to the highest decibel to drown her out. Loser by Beck came blasting from the speakers, and although it might not be the best song to boost his ego, he decided to go with the tried and true ‘if you can’t beat ‘em join ‘em’ theory and sing along.

“YOU’RE A LOSER, PACEY! SO, WHY DON’T YOU KILL ME!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, his drunken shouting enough to wake the dead, or at the very least, poor old Mrs. Peterson next door. A goofy grin was plastered on his face as he thrust one finger in the air and bellowed out his favorite part, “Get crazy with the Cheez Whiz!”

Cheez Whiz. Now there was an idea. Maybe America’s favorite processed cheese spread was just what he needed to lift his spirits. He did skip dinner, opting to ‘drink’ his meal instead, but solid food suddenly sounded much more appealing. As if right on cue, his stomach rumbled loudly, making the decision for him. All he had to do was get to the kitchen without falling flat on his face. He got up slowly this time, his balance only wavering slightly, and successfully navigated his way across the room into the kitchen.

He returned a few minutes later, a bag of Doritos in his right hand and a box of chocolate fudge Pop Tarts tucked under his arm. Sadly, he couldn’t find any Cheez Whiz, but was satisfied with the other snack food treasures he was able to dig up in its stead. His gaze was fixed on the bag as he plunged into it for a chip, and he didn’t see the stack of his mom’s Better Homes and Gardens magazines lying in the middle of the floor until it was too late. He tripped on the tall pile, careening forward as Doritos and Pop Tarts went sailing into the air. He did a belly flop onto the floor, a shower of nacho cheese corn chips and toaster pastries raining down on him in the process.

“Fuck,” he muttered into the carpet. Could his life get any worse? All he needed was for Joey to saunter in here and ‘kick him while he was down’. He laid there for a little while, half afraid Joey would appear to finish him off. Finally, he gathered his strength and rolled over onto his back, chips and chocolate pastries crunching underneath him. He would definitely have to vacuum later when he was sober enough to care, but for right now he didn’t feel like moving. He wondered if it would be possible to just camp out on the living room floor the entire weekend. He did have an abundance of food surrounding him that could easily sustain him for a few days. Tomorrow was Friday, so he did have school, but it wasn’t like he would ruin his chances for the Perfect Attendance Award if he didn’t show up. He probably wouldn’t even be missed.

He stared blankly up at the ceiling and tried not to think about Joey, but it was no use. Even after all the terrible things she said about him, he still cared for her just as much as before. What was wrong with him? In his head, he knew he should hate her, but his pathetic, naïve heart had a mind of its own, and refused to cooperate. It would take a miracle, or at the very least a heart transplant, to cure the lovesick organ, and the likelihood of either of those things happening were slim to none. His prognosis wasn’t good, and it looked as if he was doomed to die of a broken heart.

Pacey was pulled from his gloomy thoughts by a familiar song, one of his favorites, actually, but it wasn’t doing much to help to help his current state of depression. It only seemed to remind him of what got him here in the first place, but maybe he could use that to his advantage. Once again, he began repeating the lyrics with the lead singer of Puddle of Mudd, this time only mumbling halfheartedly, “She fucking hates me. Trust, she fucking hates me. La, la, la love.” Tired of feeling sorry for himself, he sat up and stumbled to his feet, keeping up with the song, “I tried too hard and she tore my feelings like I had none and ripped them away.”

“She fucking hates you, Pace,” he said a third time as if he was trying to beat it into his brain. He had to get it through his thick skull, “Joey hates you. She hates me.” His eyes glazed over with tears as it finally sunk in, but he willed himself not to cry. He wouldn’t let her turn him into a blubbering idiot. He decided it was time for a new tune, preferably one that wouldn’t reduce him to tears. Still unsteady on his feet, he took determined, careful steps to the stereo and put an end to She Hates Me. He popped open the CD player and replaced the disc with a new one. He pressed the ‘seek’ button in search of the bitter ballad that would allow him to let go of all of his despair and animosity towards Joey. At least he hoped it would.

As the opening guitar riff exploded out of the speakers, Pacey bobbed his head in time with the music. He was feeling better already. His foot began tapping next, picking up speed as the intro escalated. Within seconds he was jumping up and down to a throbbing drum roll, oblivious to his impaired sense of equilibrium. He grabbed the empty Tequila bottle and used it as a microphone, “This one’s for you, Josephine Potter, wherever you are!” He then launched into his performance with wild abandon, screaming his revenge off key for the whole neighborhood to hear, “Light that smoke and one for giving up on me! One just cause it’ll kill you sooner than my expectations! To my favorite liar, to my favorite scar! I could’ve died with you!”

He bounced around the room, paying no mind to the random objects he was knocking over, his mom’s favorite crystal vase and his dad’s first place fishing trophy among the things to fall prey to his fiery performance. “I hope you choke on those words, that kiss, that bottle. I confess! Now ash yourself out on the insides! I said I loved you, but I lied!” Pacey leaped onto the couch, using it as his stage while he belted out the chorus, “Let’s play this game called ‘when you catch fire’ I wouldn’t piss to put you out! Stop burning bridges and drive off of them! So I can forget about you!!”

He dove from the couch and hurled the Tequila bottle to the ground, shattering it into little pieces. Smashing something gave him the release he was looking for, and he quickly scanned the room for another item to destroy. His eyes fell on Doug’s guitar, which was leaning against the wall by the stereo. He grinned menacingly and raced for it. He was so caught up in his rampage, he didn’t hear the knock on the front door. Nor did he notice when Joey entered the living room. He held the guitar over his head, poised and ready to slam it into the coffee table when the sound of her voice stopped him.

“Pacey!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock at the disaster she saw before her. By the looks of things, Jen’s suspicions were right. She stepped over to the stereo, trying her best to avoid the Doritos and Pop Tarts strewn all over the floor, and turned off the music. “What in the hell is going on here?”

Pacey lowered the guitar and placed it on the coffee table. “Joey!” He said as he clapped his hands together with mock enthusiasm. “Just the person I didn’t want to see. What brings you to my humble abone, abobe, er…home?”

“Pacey, have you been drinking?” she asked, concern etched on her face as she took a step closer to him.

“Now why would you think that? Could it be because I’m such a moron? Or maybe it’s because I’m the biggest loser around? Why not add drunk to that that list? It only makes sense.” He turned his back on her so she wouldn’t see the pain in his eyes.

Joey’s heart sank as Pacey confirmed her worst fears. He did hear her, and now he was a mess because of it. “Pacey, I…I’m sorry. I…”

“Oh, don’t even try to act like you care!” he spat out as he whirled around to face her. “You don’t love me. You could never love someone like me. You said so yourself.”

“Please, just let me explain.” She placed her hand on his arm desperate for him to listen to her, but he pushed it away.

“No! Let me explain. Do you have any idea how much I care about you?” The words came tumbling out of Pacey’s mouth before he even realized what he was saying, but he didn’t stop. Maybe the Tequila made him lose his inhibitions, or maybe he just couldn’t hold it in anymore. He didn’t even wait for her answer. “God, Joey!” He threw his arms up in frustration. “You drive me insane, you know that? I don’t want to care about you, but I do…and I…I…” He wanted to tell her how he felt, but couldn’t find the words. Joey stood before him, her mouth gaping open, not knowing what to say as she waited for him to continue.

Suddenly, he grabbed Doug’s guitar, the answer he was looking for crystal clear. He knew what he had to do. “Sit,” he ordered, pointing to the couch.

“Okay,” Joey said weakly. She was afraid to argue with him and immediately did as she was told.

Pacey took a seat across from her on the coffee table and balanced the guitar in his lap. Under normal circumstances, he would never be able to do what he was about to, but he was drunk and lacked the ability to care. He might regret this later, but for now he was going to take advantage of his inebriation. “Jo,” he began seriously, trying his best not to slur his words, “I’m going share something with you that I’ve never shared with anyone. I’ve always been afraid people would laugh at me, but since you already think I’m one big joke, I figure I’ve got nothing else to lose, right? So, um…this song is dedicated to you.”

Joey looked on in stunned silence as Pacey began to strum a slow, sad melody on the guitar. She had no idea he even knew what a musical instrument was, let alone had enough talent to play one. He stumbled over a few of the notes, but he actually wasn’t half bad. It was when he opened his mouth to sing that she really sat up and took notice, his words going straight to her heart. “When you were here before, couldn’t look you in the eye. You’re just like an angel. Your skin makes me cry. You float like a feather in a beautiful world. And I wish I was special. You’re so very special. But I’m a creep. I’m a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here.”

It wasn’t that he was a particularly good singer, and most of his words were spoken rather than sang, but it was the raw emotion with which he serenaded her that touched her soul. She was seeing Pacey in a whole new light, and was mesmerized by him as he continued with her song, “I don’t care if it hurts. I wanna have control. I want a perfect body. I want a perfect soul. I want you to notice when I’m not around. You’re so very special. I wish I was special. But I’m a creep. I’m a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? When I don’t belong here.”

He played through an instrumental part, the song building to a crescendo before falling back down into almost a quiet lull. He kept his eyes downcast until then, pausing to slowly lift his gaze to meet hers, his ocean blue eyes awash with anguish and something else that she couldn’t quite place. Neither of them could look away as he softly finished, “Whatever makes you happy. Whatever you want. You’re so very special. I wish I was special. But I’m a creep. I’m a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here…I don’t belong here.”

As the last note faded away, Joey was embarrassed to find she was crying. Suddenly shy around a person she had known her whole life, she tore her eyes from his to hide her tears, but she wasn’t fast enough. Pacey set aside Doug’s guitar and leaned forward, reaching out his hand to caress her cheek. He was no longer angry with her, and wanted nothing more than to comfort her. He made her look at him as he lightly brushed away a teardrop with his thumb. He inched closer to her, his desire to kiss her so great, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself even if he tried. Joey shivered involuntarily, the intensity of the moment overwhelming her, and she was terrified by the previously unidentified emotion she now recognized in Pacey’s eyes. Her first instinct was to get out of there as fast as she could, and that’s exactly what she did.

“Pacey, I have to go home,” she exclaimed nervously as she sprang up from the couch and headed for the front door.

Pacey wasn’t about to let her get away so easily this time. His first and second attempts to kiss her failed, but they did say the third time was a charm, right? He just poured his heart out to her in song, and her response told him more than any words she could ever say. His confidence was renewed, and he was going to prove to her he wasn’t a loser. He was going to show her who Pacey Witter really was.

When my pass came in, you dropped the ball.
It didn't change the way I feel.
And I was wishing I'd break down your walls.
The kiss will know if the lips stay still.

There is a line I crossed,
And when you missed I lost.
I'm not a loser.
Girl, you know that I'll be back again…

Joey bolted through the screen door and scrambled across the porch with Pacey hot on her heels. She was amazed at how fast he could run when he was obviously drunk off his ass. She was just about to go down the steps when he caught her. He latched onto her hand and pulled her back to him.

“Joey, wait!” he pleaded as he grabbed both of her arms, turning her around to face him. Before she had a chance to respond, his mouth descended on hers, their lips colliding in an urgent kiss.

I want to.
I need to.
I have to have you.
You're so much to touch.

Girl, you're too much,
And I can't control it.
You've got me all over the road.

My dear, I went for the steal.
Maybe it was rushed.
Oh, my crush.
I’ve got a crush…


Joey wasn’t prepared for Pacey’s impulsiveness and was rendered senseless. She couldn’t think, couldn’t move. She tensed in response, not knowing what else to do. Pacey sensed her apprehension and loosened his grip on her. He delicately ran his hands up her bare arms, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake and tangled his fingers through her silky chestnut locks. As the kiss lost some of its roughness, Joey felt herself giving in, and relaxed against him. She gingerly placed her hands on his waist before sliding them up the length of his back as they melted into each other. Her lips parted of their own accord, and Pacey gently sucked on her bottom lip before sliding his tongue slowly into her mouth. When she didn’t resist, he plunged in deeper, a low moan escaping from the back of his throat as her tongue danced lazily with his. Joey could taste the faint remnants of the alcohol he consumed earlier, but that wasn’t what was making her lightheaded. She was drunk with desire, intoxicated by the feel of his mouth on hers, his fingers tugging lightly on her hair, and the way he cradled her protectively in his arms. She had only been kissed two other times in her life, and while her experiences with Anderson and Dawson were nice, she never remembered feeling like this. This was the first time she ever wanted a kiss to go on forever.

Unfortunately, it didn’t. The kiss ended just as swiftly as it began when Pacey tore himself away from her and ran to the edge of the porch, leaving a dumbfounded Joey to stare after him in confusion. The sound of his retching brought her back down to earth, and she watched helplessly as Pacey vomited into the hedges below. The evils of alcohol came back to haunt him and ruined their moment. Joey moved to stand beside him, timidly placing her hand on the small of his back and rubbed it soothingly.

“Are you all right?”

Pacey nodded and kept his head down, avoiding her eyes. The bravery he possessed a few minutes ago was gone, replaced with shame and embarrassment over what he just did. He cleared his throat and spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, “Joey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“It’s okay, Pacey,” she cut him off, squeezing his arm reassuringly.

“No, it’s not. I need to…”

“What you need to do is take some aspirin and go to bed. You should rest. We can talk about this later. Okay?” She held her hand out to him, and he took it without another word of protest, letting her lead him back into the house.

Twenty minutes later, after praying to the porcelain god a few more times, Pacey was in his bed with the covers tucked tightly over him. Joey sat on the edge of the bed holding a glass of water and two aspirin.

“Take these,” she commanded handing him the water and pills.

Pacey obeyed, and then deposited the glass onto the nightstand. “Jo, about what happened out on the porch, I was drunk, and I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t mean to…”

“Pacey,” Joey said sternly, raising her eyebrows and cocking her head to the side in warning.

“But Jo…”

She held up her hand, signaling for him to stop. “We’re not discussing this now, and that’s final. I set your alarm for you, although I doubt you’ll feel like going to school with the massive hangover you’re bound to have, but it’s taken care of in case you recover faster than I think you will.”

Pacey smiled weakly, “Thanks.”

“Goodnight, Pace.”

“Goodnight, Jo,” Pacey yawned, his eyes already fluttering closed.

Joey rose from the bed and crossed the room, flipping off the light before she left. She walked down the stairs, clutching the railing for support as she felt her knees start to wobble, making it all the way to the bottom before collapsing down onto the last step. She’d been holding herself together as best she could ever since Pacey’s stomach abruptly ended their kiss. She had to take care of him first, but now that he was passed out, she couldn’t control her emotions anymore. She placed her head in her trembling hands and took deep, even breaths, in an effort to slow her racing heart. She was still reeling from the kiss she shared with him, and she didn’t know what to do next. Her head was spinning with a thousand questions, none of which she had the answers for.

Why did he kiss her?

Was it really just alcohol-induced, or was it something more?

And if it was something more, what did that mean?

Joey wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but at the same time she was shocked to find she was disappointed when he tried to use his intoxication to explain away the kiss, which only added to her bewilderment. She couldn’t deny she felt something when he kissed her, well maybe a little more than just something. Ok, a lot more, but that was beside the point. She was in love with Dawson, wasn’t she?

But when she kissed Dawson that day on a dare in detention, it was nothing like what she just shared with Pacey. There were no sparks, no goose bumps, and definitely no dizzying, blissful feelings of euphoria. That didn’t mean she loved Pacey, though. That was just chemistry, explosive, mind-blowing, overpowering chemistry, but chemistry all the same. So they were physically attracted to each other? Pacey was known for his raging hormones. He couldn’t possibly have real feelings for her, could he?

She forced herself to lift her head, her eyes falling on the ransacked living room, Doug’s guitar lying in the middle of all the destruction, reminding her of the song Pacey sang for her. She really didn’t know what to think about that. What was he trying to tell her with that song? And when did he learn to play the guitar? She knew Doug played and was quite serious about it, but she would’ve never guessed in a million years that Pacey was musically inclined. He never ceased to amaze her lately, and the only thing she was sure of was there was a lot more to Pacey Witter than met the eye. She just didn’t know if she was ready to discover what lay hidden beneath the surface.

She finally felt calm enough to get up and went straight for the living room. She had to clean it up for him. It was the least she could do seeing as it was her fault he trashed it in the first place, which was another thing she had to talk to him about. She had to apologize for all the terrible things she said, which was also going to be difficult. She wasn’t used to Pacey valuing her opinion of him, but she was glad he did because she was now beginning to realize he mattered to her too. Above all else, Pacey was her friend and she planned on keeping it that way.

After an hour of ‘power cleaning’ Joey was finished, and the living room was spotless once more. She glanced down at her watch, noting that it was 9:45. She needed to get home and get some sleep. She had a busy day ahead of her with taping for Made set to begin tomorrow. She walked into the front hall, stopping to pick up her backpack, which she left by the door with Pacey’s when she first arrived. She was on her way out when something made her go back. She unzipped her bag and rooted around until she found what she was looking for.

She tiptoed up the steps and into Pacey’s room, careful not to wake him. He was sound asleep, and she watched him for a few minutes, thinking how much he still resembled the adorable five-year-old little boy who won her the stuffed dog she was now holding. She had been carrying Scruffy around with her ever since Pacey passed him to her two weeks ago, but now it was time for her to give him back.

“I’m sorry, Pacey,” she whispered as she gently placed Scruffy on his chest. She then leaned down and brushed her lips across his forehead, “You’re not a loser. You’re one of my best friends, and I need you…more than you know.”

She smiled down at him one last time, and then left. As she walked home, she wondered what would happen tomorrow. So many things were changing in her life. One of her best friends barely knew she existed anymore, while another seemed to be noticing her for the first time. And to top it all off, she was about to be made into a beauty queen. She didn’t think it could get more complicated than that. A few weeks ago, she was absolutely certain about who she wanted to be her ‘prince’, but now she wasn’t so sure.

Maybe someone else was ‘made’ for that role.

Joey didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but for the first time in a long time, she was looking forward to it.

You blew me off, but I don't mind.
I just get better with time.
And so do you.
So do you.
My crush.

~*~

Okay *takes deep breath*

SONGS:

Jude Law and a Semester Abroad by Brand New

Belief by Gavin Degraw

Loser by Beck

She Hates Me by Puddle of Mudd

Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things To Do Today by Fall Out Boy (CATIE!!!! )

Creep by Radiohead

Crush by Mr. Degraw again.

Ok, I think that's it. I highly recommend all of those btw! Thanks for reading!!!! Hope you enjoyed!

ETA: I need to give a special thanks and credit to my good friend Lynn. It was from her that I got the idea that Dougie played the guitar, and it gave me a great way to have Pacey do the same. Thanks, Lynn for letting me use your idea!

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