 | Title:
Maybe It Isn't Only The Dancing Author: S.N. Kastle Category: Dawson's Creek Summary: His choice changed everything. Rating: USTy PG. Spoilers: Through third season, but especially "Four to Tango" and "The Longest Day." To sum up, Dawson just found out about Joey and Pacey. Disclaimers: Not mine. My answer to the Mango anti-you challenge: overwrought first-person self-involved teenager POV. Originally posted 29 October 2001. Thanks: k signed off on it. Feed me: snk@wearemany.net |
MAYBE IT ISN'T ONLY THE DANCING
I
THINK IT'S entirely possible that the world is ending. I think this,
and then I hear myself and laugh again, that low bitter noise I hadn't
known
I could make until I stood there on the porch, yelling at them.
At
them. There's a them now. "An us," he said, like it was that
simple. Him and her. His and hers. There's one of each and now
they're together, off together and I'm alone. Everybody I love's in
love with everybody else. I don't care if they're not sleeping
together, friendship should still come above whatever it is they are
doing
to keep each other warm.
I
told Joey that I understood the impulse. We stood out there on the
docks and she hadn't noticed yet that she was cold or that she was too
mad
at Pacey for messing around with Jen and I said, I said I could
understand
not being able to control how we felt even if we knew it was
wrong.
I said I understood wanting comfort.
But
I didn't know what I was talking about. I was still confused by the
feel of Pacey's hands through my sweater. We were right there dancing
in front of everyone, in front of Mr. Bell who used to go to church with
my parents and everyone, and that kooky bird of a dance instructor
paired
us up and we danced. I wanted her to tell us what it meant, how
we
moved out there on the floor. She said Jen and I danced like old
lovers
even though we weren't, not really, and Pacey stepped on my toe
once but
said he was sorry.
The
whole thing was like a damn musical, and I've never liked musicals.
I like
drama, good old-fashioned drama, Stanley screaming from the
street and all
that. I wanted drama, and this is what I got. The
oldest story
in the world. Two guys and a girl.
Except
sometimes I'm not so sure. Not about any of it. I love Joey, I
do. If I didn't know that before, if I thought I could live without
her, watching her drop Pacey's hands when I slammed through the screen
door
convinced me. I want her back and I'll run through a damn airport
if
I have to, if that's what it takes to get her back. I'll do
anything,
say anything.
I
had this dream once, a long time ago, sometime last year, that Joey
and Pacey
and I all lived in a big house on the edge of some faraway
island.
And Pacey would cook fish he'd caught himself and I would set
up the old
projector with whatever film had arrived that week in a
brown-paper package
covered in stamps. And Joey would look up from a
book and laugh at
both of us, that laugh where her nose turns up and her
teeth open wide, like
she's some kind of hungry chick waiting for a
meal. And we'd feed her.
Me and Pacey golden brown from playing in the
equatorial sun with our shirts
off. Joey in a bikini top and jean
shorts and sand stuck between her
toes.
I had the dream more than once.
But
they've gone on without me, and everything is horrible, and I don't
think
it's possible to capture how I feel right now on film. The oldest
story
in the world and no one has come close to getting this right. The
world
is ending and what I keep thinking about is the feel of Pacey's
arm around
my back.
end.
DANNY KAYE: I seem to be getting a little mixed up.
VERA
ELLEN: Maybe it's the music.
DANNY KAYE: Maybe
it isn't only the music.
-- WHITE CHRISTMAS