Beyond the Pale

“Where the hell is your mind, little girl?”

Deeply startled, Joey looked quizzically at the burly customer in front of whom she’d just placed a basket of clams with fries and hushpuppies. “What?”

The man frowned impatiently. “Well, you’ve brought me coffee instead of tea twice, didn’t bring the extra napkins I asked for, and now here you are with a clam platter instead of my shrimp alfredo.”

“I’m sorry,” Joey said. She picked up the basket. “Just a minute.” She hurried back to the kitchen, located the just-cooked shrimp alfredo and grabbed a wad of napkins. She whisked the hot platter in front of the customer, dropped the napkins on his table and said, “I’ll be right back with your tea.”

Joey had been at work for three hours, and she’d been distracted the entire time, messing up orders, dropping things and spilling drinks on her apron. She’d slipped away from school after her last class without waiting for Pacey or telling him where she was going. Her ears had still been ringing with the snide words Stacey Mathis had said to her: I heard that Pacey spent Sunday afternoon with his ex-girlfriend, and I just thought they got back together. I thought maybe you’d been pumped and dumped. It happens.

Pacey and Tatiana? Why would Pacey have anything at all to do with her after the way she’d treated him? Tatia had unceremoniously dumped him to date Grant Bodine, who was living, breathing proof that Neanderthal man could still exist in the modern world. But why would Stacey lie? The girl barely knew her. Why wouldn’t Pacey have mentioned spending time with Tatia…unless he had something to hide? He loved her. Didn’t he?

Joey tried to put the whole mess out of her mind and concentrate on the Icehouse dinner rush. She was so busy that it was several minutes before she noticed that Pacey had come in and was sitting at the counter. He was frowning, his dark gaze brooding. Joey delivered the broiled fish platter she was carrying, took a deep breath, and made her way over to him.

“Did you want something?” Joey asked him. Her tone was a bit snappier than she’d intended.

“I don’t come here for the food,” Pacey said. His eyes narrowed as he took in her defensive posture. “I was kind of wondering why you ditched me this afternoon.”

“I had to work,” Joey said curtly.

“No kidding!” Pacey said. “And I thought you were here for the nightlife.” He slouched on his stool. “What’s the matter with you today?”

“What’s the matter with me?” Joey put her hands on her hips. “People have been talking about me behind my back all day, I’m tired as hell, and if I screw up one more order, I’m going to slit my throat with a butter knife! Any more questions?”

Pacey glared at her. “There’s no need to take it out on me!”

Joey rolled her eyes and turned to walk away. Pacey took hold of her arm.

“Let go of me!” Joey demanded, pulling out of his grasp. “Don’t ever grab me like that!”

“Is there a problem over here?” Bessie materialized behind Joey. “I could hear you back in the kitchen. Do you think you two could cool it?”

Pacey got up from his stool, looking wounded. “I’ll be at the pier if you want to talk to me later,” he said to Joey. Casting one last hurt glance over his shoulder, he left the restaurant.

Joey bit her lip, fighting back tears. She tightened her apron and gamely got back to work.

*******

The night sky was spangled with stars, and the only sound Joey heard as she walked along the pier was the roar of the ocean. She pulled her light jacket more tightly around her, slowing her steps as she saw a dejected figure sitting at the very end of the pier. “Dammit, Pacey,” she muttered under her breath. She loved him so much that the very thought of him being with anyone but her made her stomach hurt.

Joey reached the place where Pacey sat, and she lowered herself down beside him, dangling her legs over the side of the pier. She glanced furtively at him. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, and his bare arms were pimpled with gooseflesh. His eyes looked suspiciously like he might have been crying. “Hi,” Joey whispered.

Pacey looked down at his hands, which were resting on his blue-jeaned thighs. “Tell me,” he said, “what I’ve said or done that’s pissed you off. I don’t know what it could’ve been, but please clue me in.”

Joey felt her eyes filling with tears. “Did you see Tatia yesterday?”

Pacey stared at her. “Did I see Tatia? Where’s that coming from?”

“Somebody told me,” Joey said, “that you spent yesterday afternoon with her.”

“Is that what this is about?” Pacey asked incredulously. “She rented some videos from me yesterday, and she might’ve spent ten or fifteen minutes boring me with the details of her breakup with Grant the spam-brain. If that counts as seeing her, then I guess I did.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Joey persisted.

“There was nothing to tell,” Pacey said, exasperated. “Nothing! Do you want me to spell that for you?”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Joey said coldly.

“You don’t trust me,” Pacey said. His eyes were bleak with the dawning realization. “If you really believe I’d go out with her behind your back, then we have a bigger problem than just some brainless people gossiping about us.”

Pacey held her gaze, and the hurt she saw there made Joey long to turn her face away. But she couldn’t. She’d asked for it, and now it was time to own it. Why hadn’t she realized that Abby Morgan’s signature was written all over this latest rumor? This had to be the second half of the one-two gossip punch. Stacey was merely an instrument used by Abby to hurt Joey and to stir up trouble. “Pacey...” she began.

Pacey got to his feet. Looking down at her, he said, “I love you, Joey, and all you’re doing is breaking my heart.” Shaking his head, he began walking away.

“Pacey,” Joey whispered, her throat clogged with tears. He didn’t hear her. She reached a hand out for him, but he didn’t turn around. Finally, Joey wrapped her arms around herself and cried, alone with the stars and the night. “I love you, too,” she whispered brokenly to the surf.

~o~

Tori Adams was daydreaming and half-dozing in her darkened bedroom when the telephone rang. Languidly, she rolled over and picked up the cordless from her night table. “H’lo?” she said huskily.

There was a brief hesitation. “Tori?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Tori said, instantly alert. “Dawson?”

“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” Dawson’s anxious voice said.

Tori smiled. “Nah,” she said. “I was just thinking.” He hadn’t asked her for her number. That meant that he’d gone to the trouble of looking it up in the phone book. Impressive.

“What are you thinking about?” Dawson said. Tori shivered. He had a sexy phone voice! Was there anything about this guy that wasn’t perfect?

Somehow it was easier to take risks over the phone, when he couldn’t see her. Tori said, “What would you say if I said I was thinking about you?”

She could tell from the tone of his voice that Dawson was smiling. “I’d say that I’m glad,” he said. “But if you ask me what I’m wearing, I’m hanging up,” Tori teased.

Dawson laughed. “So, are you ready for exams?”

“Not really,” Tori said, “but who is?” She rolled over on one side. There was something very intimate about talking to Dawson as she lay in her bed, dressed in her nightgown, in the darkness. It sent a little chill up her spine. “I am ready for school to be out.”

“Me, too,” Dawson replied. “And I really do think we should all go to the beach on the day of the School’s Out party. I was serious about that.”

“Sounds great to me,” Tori said.

There was a brief warm silence. Tori said, “So what are you doing?”

“Flipping channels,” Dawson said. “Trying to decide whether to go to bed or to stay up all night watching infomercials.”

“I bet you sleep with the remote in your hand,” Tori said. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Dawson said.

Yes, Tori thought. Out loud she said, “Very funny.”

They listened to each other breathe. Finally Dawson said, “Well, I’ll let you go now, I guess.”

“Okay,” Tori said softly. “See you tomorrow?”

“You got it,” Dawson said. “And, Tori?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you wearing?” He chuckled.

“Good night, Dawson,” Tori said, smiling. She hung up the phone.

It took her a long, long time to go to sleep.

~o~

Joey took a deep breath, trying to get a grip on herself as she waited for someone to pick up the phone at Pacey’s house. It had taken her three tries to dial the number correctly.

“Hello, Witter residence,” said a surly voice. “It’s nearly midnight, this better be good.” It had to be Doug, Mr. Charm School himself.

“Can I speak to Pacey, please?” Joey quavered.

“He’s in bed,” Doug said.

“It’s important,” Joey said. She sniffled.

“Pacey!” Doug yelled, nearly splitting her eardrum. “Pick up the phone!”

There were two clicks; Pacey picking up, and Doug hanging up. “Hello?” Pacey said. He didn’t sound like he’d been asleep.

“Pace?” Tears tracked down Joey’s face, wetting her hand and the receiver.

“Joey? What’s wrong?” Pacey said anxiously.

“Pacey....” Joey sobbed. “I’m so sorry! This has been such a horrible day...I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Pacey was silent. She could hear him breathing. Finally, he said, “It really hurts that you don’t trust me. That you’d listen to Abby and her gossipy friends instead of me.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Joey said again. She sniffed. Her nose was stopped up from excessive crying.

The other line was picked up. Doug’s abrasive voice said, “Get off the phone. It’s late.”

“Hang up,” Pacey snapped. “I’ll be off in a minute!”

Click. “God, Pacey,” Joey whispered. “I love you so much.” She swiped at her wet face.

“I love you too, Jo,” Pacey said. He still sounded hurt and a bit angry, but she was reassured by his words. Pacey’s love wasn’t something that she’d ever take lightly again.

Write to Angie!