The words in his history book were just forming one big jumble. He had assumed that getting away from Capeside, and getting away from Joey would change his life. He wanted to free himself from the self-imposed shackles he wore that tied him to her.
Love was supposed to be joyous and happy, maybe it could make you stupid, but it wasn't supposed to make you as miserable as he was feeling. He had been alone to simmer in his own juices for a while now, just trying to straighten out his thoughts, desperately hoping to gain perspective on the entire situation.
Everything changed when he found the letter. It turned him inside out. Most of all, it shattered the delusion that one day she might love him. Now he knew she wouldn't.
To cleanse himself, to free himself, he admitted it all to her. Lifting the burden had been wonderful, like releasing a bird to fly free for the first time. He had been caught in a free-fall when she just stared back at him with nothing to say.
Then he made the move, painfully putting on his brave face and walking away. He didn't know what he was expecting, though. No one ever has to say I love you back. He knew that, but he had still grasped tight on the shallow hope that she would.
He couldn't get away from it. She was where ever he went. His thoughts were of her, deceived by his own eyes when he saw her, his mouth a traitor when he'd softly mutter her name.
She was long gone, and he was probably long forgotten. No amount of pacing or thinking would change that. He was relieved to hear the telephone ring: It was a welcome distraction.
"Hello," he answered.
"Pacey, is that you?"
"Yeah," he said. "Who's this?"
"It's Joey," she said.
There was a momentary pause, and Pacey began to panic. This meant she knew. It had to mean she knew. "Hi, Jo," he tried to say casually. "How are you?"
"I called Dawson to get your number," she began, ignoring his question. "You have a 919 area code. That is sort of odd considering my area code is 919, and I'm pretty far from Pennsylvania."
"I'm not in Pennsylvania," he admitted. "I'm in Raleigh."
"So you've been less than thirty miles away for a whole month, and didn't feel the need to contact me?"
"No," he answered coolly. "I thought we said everything there was to say."
"We haven't," she said. "I need to see you. Tonight."
"I can't tonight, Jo," he said. "I've got tons of history to read. Maybe another time."
"You can't put me off. There are some things I have to say."
"Say them," he prompted.
"I need to see you. Meet me at the coffee shop on Hillsborough road near campus in an hour."
She hung up the phone, not allowing the opportunity for him to respond.
He dropped the receiver back onto the telephone, and just stared at it with disbelief. He couldn't understand why now she was insistent on seeing him. She probably had some painfully depreciating speech prepared, where she would tell him that they were great friends, and what he'd said didn't have to change it.
But that was a lie. He refused to listen to it.
He wasn't going to go.
* * * * *
Release Me -- Blaque
I'm drowning in the shallow waters
And I'm trying so hard to reach the top
Something so pure and near to catch
I can see it above me
A breath of freedom,
The choice to change,
A new direction,
I feel so trapped
Release me, let me go
There's a certain light that tries to guide me
I keep pretending there's nothing there
Now I'm so deep, nowhere near the end
And I keep going down, So down
I begin to see the person,
Holding me is me
Let it go
Let it go
I can't fight it and
I won't deny it
As I'm goin' by that
That it's me that holds the key
Let me go
Let me go
* * * * *
NOT to be continued.