Previously on Dawson's Creek: Jen stalked Tom Frost, and Tom Frost busted her on her trust issues; Dawson told Joey that Mr. Brooks left him money, and that he has to do "something great" with it; Gretchen told Pacey that Joey lied to Dawson about sleeping with him (Pacey, not Dawson).
Fade up on the cafeteria, where Joey "Little Miss Little Miss Can't Be Wrong" Potter sniffs a forkful of what looks like beefaroni; the beefaroni matches her violently orange attire, and I can only assume that she's wearing that inch of eye-shadow in order to match the vegetables. As Joey looks disgusted by her meal, Jen "Craaaayzeee…I'm Crazy For Feeeeelin' So" Lindley enters the caf and looks around for someone she knows, and Joey spots her and waves her over -- and it's nice to see them doing friend-type things -- but on the way to the table Jen yard-sales and spills a bunch of college brochures on the floor, and Joey puts a dime in the exposition jukebox, asking if the brochures represent all the colleges that Jen got into. Jen says it's all the colleges that she and Jack both got into; now they just have to "narrow down the choices." I had a sidebar all set here about the fact that my parents never would have permitted me to choose a college based on where my friends planned to go, but then I remember that neither Jen nor Jack has functioning parents, so never mind. Joey compliments her on the schools, and Jen jokes that Jack is really good at "the application process," which qualifies him for a career in civil service or education. She asks if Joey's heard from any schools yet, and Joey jokes that she hasn't, which means she's qualified for "a career in waitressing." "Hardly," Jen says, and just then a guy hands Joey a note; she's to report to the office immediately to call home.
Elsewhere, Dawson "The Reject (Da Na Na), The Reject (Da Na Na), The Reject -- JECT JECT JECT JECT JECT" Leery wonders at a similar note in class while Jack "Played By Kerr Smith, A Straight Guy Who Really Reeeeeally Likes The Ladies" McPhee asks if there's another reason "to pull Dawson Leery out of class? I think not."
In the office, a random guy squinches his face up in disappointment and hands the phone back to the secretary; Joey looks on nervously. Enter Dawson, who sleazes about the "coincidence," and Joey says she hopes it's "a good one." "I'll be glad when April's over," the secretary grumbles, saying she wishes parents would let the seniors open their own college mail "instead of torturing [them] over the phone," and it's worth mentioning here that my school -- and many other schools I could name -- had a policy specifically forbidding parents from notifying the students about college mail during the school day, and the administration enforced the rule pretty strictly to avoid hurt feelings. It's a good rule, as we'll soon see. Anyway, the secretary bustles off to pick up her SAG card, and Dawson dorkily says he guesses that "this is it, another life-altering moment," and he wishes Joey luck. Joey, wearing stricken face, nods and wishes him luck too. They dial home. Cross-cutting dialogue, the gist of which is that Joey got into Worthington and Dawson got rejected by NYU film school. (Hee!) A lingering shot of all the dark, adult hair on Dawson's allegedly-seventeen-year-old hand. Dawson gets off the phone, bummed, and a cat walks across hot coals as Dawson looks over and sees that Joey is smiling in happy disbelief.
Back to the old credits with Meredith Monroe. Huh?
I loathe the Absolutely Fabulous Lipcream ads. Loathe them.
Back to the Capeside High hallway, where Joey's asking Dawson if he's sure there's nothing she can do. Dawson assures her that he's "okay," but Joey says she knows how she'd feel "if the circumstances were reversed," and Dawson says somewhat impatiently, "Yeah, you'd be happy for me, like I am for you," and to his credit, he seems sincere. But of course Joey can't have an emotion without Dawson legitimizing it first, so she stands there all shy and sad, about to make yet more regretful noises for daring to have something good happen to her without Dawson's express written consent, when "Cult Of" Pacey "-nality" Witter bounds up behind them and asks what's up. Joey and Dawson both hesitate in a very obvious manner. Pacey comments on the "weird chi goin' on here," and Dawson says he'll let Joey give Pacey "the good news," and he heads to class, telling Joey to promise him that she'll "celebrate." Pacey asks what good news. Joey, instead of hopping around gleefully and telling him that she got accepted to Worthington, elects first to tell him that Dawson got rejected by NYU, and then admits in an almost shameful tone that she got into Worthington. Pacey is thrilled for her and hoists her into the air, congratulating her, but when he puts her down, she still looks sulky and sad. Pacey joins the entire viewership in rolling his eyes and telling her that she's "got nothing to feel guilty about here," and Joey tries to play it off by saying that it doesn't seem real: "Stuff like this doesn't happen to me." Pacey grabs her hand and starts towing her down the hall; Joey says she'll miss sixth period, but Pacey doesn't think she'll "believe that letter until [she sees] it." Joey continues to protest that she has to go class, but Pacey cracks, "What, you're not gonna get into college? Please." Joey makes a mock-mad face.
Jack and Jen in the AV room. Jack sits at a table strewn with catalogs and videos; Jen paces, then stops and waves a tour videotape at Jack, which Jack refuses to watch again, saying that the hand-held camera work will make him "hurl" and waving a different video at Jen in return. Jen says he "laughed through the whole thing" and whines at him to "be serious" because they need to "make an informed decision," blah blah blah. Jack doesn't know why they bother: "We both know there is only one choice, right? The University of New York." Jen starts to shake her head, but Jack keeps selling it, saying that it's a great school and she's always saying that "New York is the only city worth living in," and he fake-sobs, "So please, can we just -- do this?" Jen asks tentatively what Jack would say if she "wasn't so sure anymore." Well, he'd say that "someone needs to deal with their issues." Um, yeah…look who's talking, Chaste-afarian. Jen closes her eyes and shakes her head some more.
Potter Bed & Breakfast. Woo hoo! It's "Where In The World Is" Bodie "Sandiego," dictating a shopping list to Bessie "Bonnie Franklin" Potter, who has a really awful new hairstyle and wants Bodie to slow down because she can't write fast enough. Pacey and Joey come in behind her, and Bessie jumps up to hug Joey and tell her she's "so proud" of her, "and Mom would be too." Aw. Bodie asks if he can get a hug from "the college girl," and Joey runs over to hug him as well, and once again I wish that we could have more scenes with the Potter blended family; I've always thought that Obi Ndefo and Katie Holmes have good acting chemistry together, and the writers should take advantage of that more often. Anyway, Bessie asks why Joey's home so early, and Pacey pipes up that "she's having a bit of trouble with the 'believing' part -- you wouldn't happen to have a certain letter handy, would ya?" Bodie beams that he thinks he can dig it up, and Joey asks if they interrupted something with Bessie and Bodie, and Bessie says that it's only planning for the barbecue they're throwing to celebrate "the first Potter to get into college." Bessie asks if she "could be more excited than" Joey, and as Pacey hugs her from behind, Joey grins in the first approximation of actual happiness about the news and says, "Not possible." Bessie asks who Joey wants to invite. Joey's all, "You're serious," and Bessie reminds her that "it's not every day that" a Potter gets into such a prestigious school, or any school for that matter. Bodie reenters with the letter -- which is in a suspiciously thin envelope, by the way -- and hands it to Joey, who looks at it, her face melting. Pacey asks what she's waiting for. Joey stalls. "You're nervous because this makes it real," Pacey murmurs. Joey looks scared. She shoots Pacey a glance, then opens the letter, and as she reads aloud from it, she begins to beam again. Pacey hugs her tightly. She smiles like she'll never stop. I remember that moment; I don't think I stopped smiling for three days. My teeth almost dried out.
Anyway, over at Late-Life-Pregnancy Lodge, Gale "Second Chances" Leery waddles toward the front door, and Dawson galumphs down the stairs, saying he told her he'd get the door, and she shouldn't get up in her "condition," like, shut up, Dawson -- she's pregnant, not dying of cancer. She can answer a freakin' door. Gale gives him the puppy eyes, and he tells her to stop with the "pitying-mom look," and she says she wishes she could do something "to take the sting off the disappointment," and Dawson fixes her with a look and says, "Mom. I'm fine. Really." Dawson opens the door on Gretchen "Thirty-Eight Special" Witter, who immediately starts macking on him; Gale, smirking, averts her eyes. Awkwardness. Whatever. Then Gale says she's glad Gretchen's taking him out, because he needs to get his mind off things, but Dawson interrupts with, "Mom, stop it -- you're killing me here." If only. Gale, cowed, waddles off. Gretchen asks, "So how're you holding up? Honestly." Dawson checks to make sure Gale's out of earshot before admitting that "it sucks," and if NYU doesn't want him, USC definitely won't want him, and "where does that leave [him]?" Gretchen says that NYU has "no bearing on" USC, and reminds him that "a certain A.I. Brooks" didn't go to film school. She adds that Mr. Brooks "preferred life as a teacher." Shut up, Gretchen. Dawson asks if she's saying that he should use Brooks's money to make his own movies, and Gretchen says that film school "doesn't have to be the be-all, end-all." Well, if you want to get work in Hollywood, it sort of does, but whatever -- Dawson smiles at her, and Gretchen's all "what?" and Dawson says that everyone else got in where they wanted to go, and he'd planned to wallow, but Gretchen provided an alternative. Yeah, yeah, that's very nice, but then they start kissing. Loudly. Yuck-o-rama.
Merciful cut to Jen, squirming in Tom Frost's office. Tom Frost comments dryly that Jen "and that couch have always gotten along well in the past -- wanna talk about it?" Heh. I heart Tom Frost. Jen admits that she's "having a problem with Jack" -- they want to go to the same school, or at least go to school in the same city, to prevent "freshman angst." Tom Frost approves, saying that a support system is good, especially in "foreign surroundings." That's the point, Jen says: "They wouldn't be foreign, if we go where he wants to go." "Which is where?" "New York City," Jen says, smiling grimly. That brings them back to Jen's "least favorite topic." "My parents," Jen squirms. Tom Frost asks why she thinks they "keep finding their way into this room." That sounds like a question he already knows the answer to, Jen sighs; Tom Frost thinks she knows the answer too. Jen says he's pushy today. Tom Frost deadpans that it's Wednesday: "I'm kinda pushy on Wednesdays. Fridays, I'm not so pushy." Marry me, Tom Frost. Jen mock-accuses him of trying to make her laugh, but Tom Frost says in a serious tone that he's actually trying to figure out why she doesn't talk about her parents with the "wry sense of humor" with which she addresses "every other topic." Jen's eyes fill, and she absently stalls with, "Why?" "Because maybe then we'll get some real answers in here," Tom Frost says. Jen chews the inside of her mouth. Tom Frost asks when Jen last spoke to her parents, and Jen reminds us of Hope's visit the Thanksgiving and the "pathetic attempt to resuscitate [their] relationship" therein. But Jen doesn't remember when she last talked to her father, and adds that it's not like she ever talked to him in the first place; he talks at people, or through them, or around them. Tom Frost prompts her to try to remember. "This is stupid!" "Pretend like it's not. For me." Jen, who's crying a little, doesn't see the point of bringing up a "ridiculous conversation" that meant nothing to her at the time; Tom Frost says that maybe it didn't mean anything at the time, but it obviously means "a great deal" to her now. Jen announces not unkindly that she wants "to leave." Tom Frost, gently: "Do you? Or do you want to stay and find out…why this is so hard for you?" Jen looks at him fearfully, hands over her mouth. Good acting by Michelle Williams there. And I am hopelessly in love with Tom Frost. Don't ask me why. There's no logic to it. I just adore him utterly and want to live with him in a little house and cook him little meals and have little Tom Frost Juniors with him. Please help me.
Kind of a weird panning cut to Pacey and Joey unloading the Witter Wagoneer, followed by an even weirder product placement of Royal Oak charcoal. Joey offers to help him carry the charcoal, then changes gears and says she knows they haven't "discussed us yet," but she's still processing her acceptance and blah. "It's kinda weird to get your dream," she shrugs, and Pacey says he knows, because he says that every time he looks at Joey. Awww. But Joey deflects the compliment, of course, saying that he always changes the subject. Pacey deflects in turn, saying that they won't talk about it today, because it's her day to celebrate "this most amazing accomplishment that [she has] worked so hard for." Aw. Good boyfriend! Does the good boyfriend want a biscuit? That's a goooood boyfriend! Joey smiles shyly. Pacey goes to get a dolly for the charcoal.
Joey lets herself in the back door of the PB&B and puts down the groceries -- and of course there's a bundle of celery sticking out the top; why do they always do that on TV and in the movies? We can figure out that it's groceries. It's a grocery bag. You don't need to put a bundle of herbs at the top -- and flips through the mail. In the background, Alexander coos. There's a letter from the bursar at Worthington, and Joey opens it, but before she does, there's a long shot of the front of the envelope, and in the interests of high standards in nit-picking, I'll note that the zip for Capeside, "," doesn't exist, and neither does any zip code close to it; Cape Cod zip codes start with "026." In case anyone cares. Yeah, neither do I, actually. Moving along, Joey reads the letter, and her face freezes, probably because it's so hard for Katie Holmes to hold her eyelids up under the drift of blue shadow smeared on them -- like, make-up people? It's not a Christina Aguilera video. And that's just about the only good thing about this show, so please, quit it with the eye-shadow. Bessie comes over to tell Joey that "it looks like everyone RSVPed" for the party, then asks what's wrong. Joey gulps that she got the financial aid package from Worthington. "So, how much is a full ride?" Bessie asks. Joey wouldn't know; Worthington wants her to kick in fifteen grand. Bessie grabs the letter, saying that "that can't be right," that they don't have that kind of money. Joey, close to tears, says quickly that she knows that, but after a moment she gets control of herself and snips that she knew it "was too good to be true," that it's the universe's way of saying not so fast, she isn't going anywhere. Oh, please, drama queen. It's called a loan. Look into it. Joey shoots Bessie a "what can you do?" look as we fade to commercial.
Yeah, finger this, Tom Green.
Cut to the college counselor's office, where Joey and Bessie harangue the college counselor about the aid problem. It's not like College Counselor can control the Worthington bursar's decision, so I don't know why -- oh, right. To do the Exposition Mambo and convince us that there's no way Joey can get more money. When CC quite reasonably suggests that Joey take out loans, as so many other students do, Joey point-blank refuses to wind up sixty grand in debt after college, which is ridiculous logic in the first place, and sixty thousand dollars is mere peanuts compared to the debt many kids graduate with in the second place, and this entire excuse for a plot is so absurd and poorly researched that I don't know if I can even recap it properly, so far removed is it from reality. Anyway, Joey says she'll just go somewhere else -- not a bad plan, because she can get a good education just about anywhere -- but of course Bessie has to remind her that "this is [her] dream," and Joey has to say all Miss Shouldering The Heavy Burden Of Princesshood that "sometimes dreams don't always come true." Do I have to list the myriad reasons why this storyline is not only absurd, but an affront to students who have chosen to attend state schools, not to mention to the viewers' intelligence? No? Good, because there isn't enough tequila in the city of New York.
Joey and Bessie pull into the PB&B driveway in the pick-up to find Dawson unloading foodstuffs from…a Jeep soft-top? The hell? Joey holds a hand to her forehead all poor-me as Bessie blathers that a barbecue is "the last thing" Joey needs, and she'll send everyone home. God, Bessie, don't encourage her. Joey snots that Bessie's not sending anyone anywhere, or telling them anything, "not a word," but then she gets out of the car without even wiping the tears off her cheeks, like, Joey? Just admit that you totally love the attention you get from denying that anything's wrong and then pouting, usually about nothing, because we know you do, because YOU DO IT ALL THE TIME. Ugh. Joey sulks out of the car, face all wet, and Dawson shows her a cake with "congratulations" written on it in brown icing, and Bessie makes a big show of taking the cake from him and leaving the two of them alone. Wheh? Joey asks Dawson where everyone is, and Dawson says they're out back, and Gretchen "got dragged into the whole New York debate" between Jen and Jack, which he avoided because New York "didn't want anything to do with" him, and -- okay, no, it's just too easy. Also, HA HA! But Joey falls for the sympathy-getting ploy because that's her purpose in life, and she makes melted-wax face until Dawson points out that "that was a self-deprecating aside" -- and again, to his credit, I think he actually intended it that way -- and that she's "still doing it." "What?" "Acting weird around me." Well, Dawson, when you emotionally blackmail a woman into thinking that she can't function without your explicit approval, that's what happens. You wanted a puppet, and that's exactly what you got, so cram it. Dawson tells her she should be happy, so Joey tries to pretend to be happy for Dawson's benefit. Then he asks her how it went with the college counselor: "Pacey said something about a mix-up?" Joey lies that "it was nothing" and "it was great," because, you know, Dawson told her to feel happy, so she, you know, totally should. She heads inside; Dawson watches her go and furrows his giant brow all "hmmmm."
Inside, Pacey -- oh my god, I can't even deal with Joey right now. Get ready, because here comes what might qualify as the single bitchiest moment in Joey history. All set? Okay, here we go. Pacey greets Joey happily and asks how it went, and he comes over to give her a kiss, and she sets her face all coldly and leans away from him like it's his fault. Instead of walking away from her, forever, because he will never, ever please her, because she's SO FUCKED UP, Pacey says mildly, "That good, huh?" Joey, fighting tears, goes on about "the cruel irony" that "[the PB&B] is making too much money," and when Pacey says there must be something they can do, Joey whinges that "there's nothing to be done," and in a way, she's right, because things just happen to Joey. Joey never does anything. She just lets things get done to her, and then she glowers until someone else does something to let her feel happy. She is merely a vessel, an instrument of other people's actions and emotions. She is, in short, the most disgustingly passive, bitchy, self-obsessed example of womanhood available on broadcast television. I loathe everything about her, not least her revolting sense of entitlement which has, against all odds, exceeded even Dawson's. Anyway, the principessa then announces all teary and put-upon that she has to go celebrate this achievement that she worked so hard for, and when Pacey tries to comfort her, she tells him there's nothing he can do: "It is what it is, and no one can change that." Except by taking a loan. Which she refuses to do. Because she sucks. Pacey asks what she's going to tell people, and she snaps, "Nothing," adding that she doesn't want anyone to feel sorry for her. Which is a lie. Because she's always wanted that. Because she sucks. Then she gives him a bitchy snort and stomps outside. God, I fucking hate her.
Outside, Jack and Jen argue the merits and debits of New York City living. Gretchen says loyally that she hates New York, and Dawson squeezes her shoulders. Okay, that's kind of cute. Kind of! Calm down. Joey comes out to the picnic table, and Jack fusses over her while she makes that I'm-fine-no-really-no-not-really-please-pity-me face, and Jen proposes a toast. Joey smiles tightly. Gretchen sees Pacey heading towards the grill and excuses herself to go "help" him while Jack enlists Joey to "settle the debate," which Joey doesn't want any part of. Jen tells Joey to tell Jack that New York sucks. Jack says that nobody can tell him New York sucks, especially since Jen's "been telling [him] how great it is for two years," and Jen's response is that, if she tells him that it sucks now, he should then listen to her, and he's gotten really insensitive. Dawson and Joey exchange an "oh, Alice" look as Jen bitches Jack out for making fun of her in front of the others, and Jack calls her a lunatic, and Jen stomps off, and the other three all make "uh, the hell?" faces.
At the grill, Gretchen asks Pacey, "You okay?" "Yeah, fine. My girlfriend is a raving biznatch, but other than that, no complaints." Okay, not really -- after a bit of "nothing's wrong/I don't believe you," Pacey makes one of his customary "I don't really have a future of my own to consider" comments, and Gretchen counters that he's "the only one who believes that" (word) and asks what he wants out of life, and Pacey drops the bomb on her about Joey's so-called "denied" financial-aid thing and admits that, while he's happy that Joey got into Worthington, he's also secretly happy that she can't go. Gretchen totally fails to rush into the house and find the number of a professional cult deprogrammer.
Jen sits at the end of the PB&B dock, staring out to sea. Jack sits down in a really strange pose so that we can see the soles of his product-placed sneakers and then run out and buy a bunch of pairs of Skechers for no reason at all, and asks Jen "what this is really about." Jen sighs and asks if he remembers, when he moved in with her and Grams, that he said that he didn't want to go home because there wasn't anything there for him. Yes, he remembers. Well, that's how she feels about New York. Jack points out that she wouldn't live with her parents if she went to school in New York, and she shouldn't let her problems with them in the past stop her from going. Jen squints in pain and says she wishes she could explain "this" to him, but it wouldn't make any sense. Jack bows his head; Kerr Smith looks really, really hot in this scene. And really, really straight, too! Because he's straight! Not really gay! Just plays a gay guy! And gosh darned if I don't believe him! That he's straight! Not gay at all, no sirree! One hundred percent straight-a-roony! Jen admits that she's "afraid…to, to go back there." Jack says in a tone of concern that he thought she planned to talk to Tom Frost about that; Jen admits that Tom Frost tried, but she just "changed the subject to one of [her] other neuroses." Snerk. Jack jokes that it's therapy; it's the one place she's not supposed to change the subject. "Can I change it here? Please?" she asks softly. Jack smiles sadly and says that if she doesn't want to go to New York, they don't have to, and when she starts to object, he says that it's more important to him that they stick together…but he doesn't think this "old wound" should stop them from going if they both want to: "You've come too far for that." Jen fixes him with a sad gaze. Jack jokingly orders her to go back to therapy and "work this out," and she jokingly says, "See? Insensitive," and then they cuddle. Aw.
Back at the picnic table, Gale and Mitch "The Flash" Leery walk up and congratulate Joey. Gale tells her, "Honey, we are so happy for you," and I find myself wishing that the writers had explored Gale-as-surrogate-mother thing more. Then again, the writers seem incapable of crafting a realistic story arc regarding the costs of a college education, so let's move on. The Flashes have tackily brought with them a fat envelope addressed to Dawson from USC; Pacey and Joey stare glumly at Dawson as Gretchen tackily urges Dawson to open it, and Dawson tackily does so in front of everyone. USC has accepted him. Everyone laughs all proud and relieved, except Joey, who super-tackily bolts indoors without saying a word. I mean, I know it's Dawson, but -- suck it up, Joey. He sucked it up when you got in, after all. Hugs all around; Pacey does the right thing by getting to his feet, shaking Dawson's hand, and telling Dawson he's happy for him. Dawson asks, "Where's Joey?" Everyone looks around, puzzled.
Joey is inside, crying, because she is a martyr with no class whatsoever. Dawson comes in, frowns, and asks if she's okay. Her back to him, she wipes her eyes and manages a flat "congratulations," and when he asks again what's wrong and says she can talk to him about it, Joey informs him that "[they're] here to celebrate -- you got into USC," it's what he's always wanted. And therefore Joey's "celebration" takes a backseat to Dawson. As always. Dawson, to my surprise, tells her in turn that Worthington is what she always wanted, so what's the deal -- did she get wait-listed or something? Joey's face buckles, but she recovers quickly and recaps the "problem." Dawson says that surely there's something she can do, that it's "just money" and she can't let that stop her from going. Yeah, spoken like a kid who's never had to worry about money. Joey sighs all tragically, "You make it sound like there's some easy answer." Yes, he does. Because there IS. TAKE a FUCKing LOAN, you IDIOT! Joey goes on to say that she did "hours of research" before applying, and getting the financial aid was as important as getting accepted; then she shrugs elaborately that it "didn't happen." If she's done so much research, didn't it occur to her that she might not get the grants she needed and would have to make other arrangements for her tuition? Did nobody suggest that she might have no choice but to take loans? Oy vey, I despise this plot. I will say that Katie Holmes is acting the hell out of it, though. She's going gangbusters with the crying. Dawson sighs impotently, and the camera zooms in on the lightbulb going on above his leonine head: "Worthington is what you want, right?" Joey delivers a meta-statement about her character arc by claiming that "it doesn't matter what I want, Dawson." "Yes or no?" Dawson says intensely. After a long pause, Joey sighs, "Yes." Dawson sits down and intones, "Then I want you to have Mr. Brooks's money." Joey rolls her eyes -- yeah, get in line, honey -- and asks if he's "insane," and Dawson says she should at least take enough of the money so that she can go to school, and he knows it sounds crazy, and Joey interrupts that it's beyond crazy; she appreciates it, but Mr. Brooks gave the money to Dawson "for a reason." Yes, Dawson says, to do something great, and giving the money to Joey "would be exactly that." Joey just stares at him helplessly as he goes on that he knows she'll say no, but she should think it over first: "This is your entire future we're talking about." Joey, near tears again, looks at him, but she doesn't say no. Dawson quiet-heroes on out of there, looking exceedingly pleased with himself; Joey looks down and sighs all "what am I gonna do with him?"
A quick note: while the gesture is creepy, delusional, and really wrong on a lot of levels, I think Dawson intends it generously and honestly. In other words, he's not approaching it the way he did the yacht race from last season; I think he genuinely wants to fix the situation, and doesn't see why it's a horrible idea. So, yes, the entire thing is icky and desperately contrived, and its object is completely undeserving, but it's not as offensive as I'd feared. But it's still gross.
Back from the break, Joey wanders into the Sanctum Dawsonorum and looks at the black-and-white pictures on the wall -- one of Jack, Jen, and Andie, and one of herself and Pacey. Dawson appears in the doorway and remarks that he doesn't have any of the two of them: "Have to do somethin' about that." In the background, there's a Battleship Potemkin poster, which, while a slight improvement over the Spielberg-iana of past seasons, is still awfully pretentious. Joey smiles, then gets to the point, namely that she's thought about it, but she can't take the money; she'd never be able to pay him back. He says she wouldn't have to, but she says she would, and she wouldn't even take "hundreds…instead of thousands" from him, because…"it would ruin our friendship?" Dawson finishes for her. "Yeah," Joey shrugs. And here's the obligatory reference to What Went Down Last Spring, with Dawson remarking wryly that if their friendship can survive that, it can survive anything. "Not this. I can't do this," Joey says firmly, and makes to leave. Why not? He dictates everything else she does or feels; what's different about this? Dawson stops her; he knows how much Worthington means to her, and he doesn't want her to throw away the opportunity. It's too much -- can't he understand that? No, he can't; he can't understand why she won't let him help her, and they've "always been there for each other." "This is different!" "How?" Excellent question, Dawson (see above). Dawson blathers on about how much pain Joey has had in her life, like, please -- we don't need a reminder. We know. Her mom died. Poor. Little. Joey. Potter. E. Nough. ALREADY. Joey narrows her eyes: "Don't do this. Don't feel sorry for me, Dawson." That's not what this is about, he claims; all the pain he's seen her go through in the past, he could never fix, but this he can fix: "All I need you to do is let me." She can't. Won't she even consider it? She has! "Just let me say 'thank you' and go." Joey leaves. Dawson flaps his arms in confusion.
Tom Frost's office. Jen says that she's ready to talk about her dad. Immediately brought to tears, she admits that she can't remember the last conversation they had, and Tom Frost says encouragingly that he knows it's hard, but "the key is to keep talking about it." How, she asks -- she doesn't even remember what happened. Tom Frost asks if someone else was there who would remember. "Like my mom?" Jen quavers, and shakes her head. Her old boyfriend? No. Tom Frost, who has on way too much lip balm in this scene, suggests that she track someone down who can help her "fill in the blanks." Jen sighs heavily.
Witterschloss. Dawson taps on the porch door, and Pacey lets him in; he just missed Gretchen, it seems, but Dawson actually wants to talk to Pacey: "Pacey, your hair looks like crap. Please cut it." Okay, no. Dawson does ask if Joey told Pacey about the money. "Yep," Pacey says flatly, busying himself with a stack of CDs. "So what do you think?" Pacey thinks that fifteen grand "is a lot of money to give somebody with no strings attached." Preach it, my man. Dawson lets that slide, saying that Joey deserves to go to Worthington, she deserves more than -- "what, more than me?" Pacey interrupts sharply. Dawson again refuses to take the bait, saying earnestly, "That's not what I said, and it's not what I meant." He takes a seat beside Pacey and goes into the Joey-beat-the-odds spiel, saying that he can't stand to watch her "lose it all" and he doesn't think Pacey can either. Pacey sets his jaw and glares at Dawson, but when Dawson asks if Pacey can see Joey "being happy anyplace else," Pacey admits that no, he can't. But could you see Joey maybe doing something for herself? Because you really should see that. And let it happen. Because she's not your freakin' concubine, either of you, so let her make her own stupid mistakes. Dear show: I hate you. Signed, Sars.
Waterfront. Jen approaches Drue "Value" Valentine; he snarks at her, and she responds, "I need to talk to you, Captain A-Hole," and drags him away from the boat he's working on. Tee hee! Drue engages in some of his trademark needling, and Jen grumbles that he's "gonna make this so hard," and says she can't believe they "used to be friends," and Drue does his we're-alike song-and-dance and blathers something about "an intense desire to feel nothing," and Foreshadowing goes on a beer run while Jen says she has to ask Drue about something and she wants him to take her seriously. Then she asks what happened "the last night [they] were together in New York." Drue laughs at her, then realizes she really doesn't remember. "That's why I'm here," she says reluctantly. Drue gives her the rundown: she invited him over "because [her] horrible parents were sending [her] away"; they went through the Valentine liquor supply before heading over to Washington Square Park to pick up "some good stuff"; stop, Casa Lindley, where they "got particularly comfy on the sofa"; then they heard keys in the door, so they hid in Jen's room, "where [she] continued to ravish [him]." Jen shakes her head in disgust, calls him repulsive, and asks why he's doing this. "Why are you?" he sneers. "The past is past, Lindley, just let it be." Um, okay -- but isn't Drue the one who keeps bringing up her past, and urging her to relive the more debauched elements of said past, in the first place? Continuity holds an ice bag to his forehead and wanly pets the cats as Jen snaps that she'd love to, but she can't, so could Drue just please tell her what happened? Drue bitches at her. Jen bitches back and walks off. Drue looks conflicted.
On the lawn of the PB&B, Joey huddles in a chair and broods. Pacey approaches, and remarks gently that he could "still sell a kidney." Heh. Joey's got no sense of humor, though, and grumps that "this isn't a joke, Pacey." Pacey sighs that he knows that. Joey thinks that maybe she can stay in Capeside another year, declare herself "financially independent" (?), and then reapply, but Pacey says she's not doing any such thing. Joey snorts that it's only a year, but Pacey basically tells her that if she stays a year, she'll wind up staying forever, and nobody wants that for her, blah blah blah fishcakes. Joey looks thoughtful.
Ryan Home. Jen answers a knock on the door to find Drue, and after a bit of sniping, Drue says he's come to apologize and to tell Jen "the truth about what happened that night." Jen, not impressed: "I'm listening." Drue lays it out for her -- she got really wasted; she brought Drue home, which shocked him because she'd told him about getting caught with Billy; they got down on the sofa, and she knew he liked her, but she "didn't seem that into it, whatever"; they didn't get far before her parents came home. Jen gives him a quizzical look when he gets to the "whatever" part, then asks, "And my dad?" Apparently, Jen's dad wigged, and they started screaming at each other, Dad calling Jen a slut, Jen calling Dad a hypocrite. Then Dad booted Drue "just as it started getting interesting." Jen, from a million miles away, asks if "that's it," if Drue doesn't remember what else she and her dad fought about; Drue says, sort of sadly, that he doesn't, but she "made it perfectly clear that it wasn't about us. Nothing that night was about us." Jen realizes aloud that she "used [Drue] to provoke him, didn't I?" Drue sighs, then tells her, "No worries. I just figured you were a lesbian or something." Jen laughs, and apologizes for using him. Drue, surprised: "Apology accepted." So Drue has a thing for Jen. Hmm. I don't know where they're going with this but already I don't like it.
Sanctum. Dawson twiddles away on a computer with a very expensive flat-screen monitor; Joey creeps into the doorway. Dawson asks how long she's been standing there. "Not long," she murmurs, lurking into the room, and Dawson sighs that it looks like Pacey "couldn't convince" her to take the money. Joey wrenches her mouth around and says she has to tell Dawson something, and she doesn't know if she can. Ohhhh, here it comes. Dawson bolts out of his chair all worried, and Joey asks him not to "make this harder." I ain't touching that one. "Make what harder?" "Telling you the truth," she grits out, and blunders ahead with an explanation of how, when she ran into him that night at the movies, "[she] was trying to make sense of things too," and when he asked her about her and Pacey doing the do, "[he was] right." Dawson's nostrils flutter ever so slightly. "I slept with Pacey over the ski trip." Dawson's left eyebrow rockets upward, and as Joey keeps talking, all the air literally leaks out of Dawson. Good job by James Van Der Beek here. Dawson's eyes slide away from her, and he slumps onto the edge of his desk like a large sack of virginal potatoes, making a tiny sound like the air hissing out of a balloon as Joey explains that things felt "right between [them] again" and "better than [she] ever thought it could be," and she thought that if she told him she'd slept with Pacey, he wouldn't understand. "So you never gave me a chance to understand?" Dawson bitters. "I know I should have told you the truth, Dawson," Joey whispers tearfully. Well, no -- you "should have" told him you didn't feel comfortable answering either way, and to mind his own beeswax, but whatever. Joey adds that she shouldn't have let Dawson go on thinking that things were still the same between them. "That I was the most important person in your life," Dawson finishes flatly. Joey says she never wanted to hurt him. Dawson greets this with a sharp chuckle. "I guess I should go," Joey says in a barely audible voice, and slinks out. Dawson watches her go, and as y'all know, I don't think Van Der Beek is a great actor by any means, but I've seldom seen a more eloquent facial expression than the one he's wearing as we fade to commercial, and here's what it says: "Dude. NOT!" And I com-PLETE-ly agree.
Is it just me, or does that disco Old Navy ad go on for, like, twenty minutes? Okay, just wondering.
Tom Frost's office, where Jen paces and complains that she only remembers that she and her father had a big fight, "which, given [their] history, is about as obvious as it is predictable," but she doesn't know what about, and Tom Frost says that maybe she's not ready to know: "When you're ready, it'll come to you." Jen calls him a "font of wisdom," and Tom Frost smiles that "these things take time." Jen asks what happens when she does remember. What does she think will happen? She'll have "another specific reason to hate" her parents, perhaps? Well, does she think she's there "to accumulate reasons to hate" her parents? No. (But, really, why shouldn't she? It's not like there's a shortage of reasons; her parents suck my left one.) So why is she there? "To stop hating them?" Close, Tom Frost says. She's there to stop hating herself. Jen stares at him, her face a mixture of confusion and anguish, as he explains that her adolescent behaviors constituted "a cry for love," and that she acts out because "something robbed [her] of her childhood in a way that [she'll] be angry about for a long time." Foreshadowing snuggles up to me with a bag of ranch-flavored Corn Nuts. Tom Frost, sounding almost angry, goes on to say that Jen has stayed "on a self-destructive path" not because she blames her father, but because she blames herself. Mmmm. Corn Nuts. That's why she doesn't want to remember -- as long as she doesn't want to remember, she can keep telling herself "that whatever happened…is [her] fault." You know, even though I wear a lock of Tom Frost's hair in a locket around my neck, he's way over the line here therapy-wise. He should let Jen come to these things on her own, not dictate her epiphanies to her. But there's no stopping my future husband as he continues that she'll "keep robbing [herself] of life's greatest moments" until she proves herself right, "but [she's] wrong." Jen is fighting tears, and losing big-time, as Tom Frost tells her that she's "a beautiful, innocent young woman, who's meant to shine in this world, in ways [she] can't even begin to fathom." And Tom Frost is there to help her see that. Tom Frost is also about to lose his license to practice psychiatry, but I still love him. Jen beams at Tom Frost through her tears and asks if she can keep coming, "like, four times a week," and Tom Frost chuckles, and I write "Mrs. Tom Frost" on my notebook.
Witterschloss porch. Pacey broods. Don't these people ever read a book and brood? Watch TV while brooding? Listen to music? Anything? Because I'm all for brooding in the great outdoors, but they do way too much of it on this show. Anyway, the Potter Pick-up pulls up, and Joey approaches silently and sits at Pacey's feet. He looks at her expectantly, then asks, "So are we going to Worthington?" "We"? Pacey, dude -- oh, forget it. It's not even worth it. "No," Joey sighs, tucking her hair behind her ears. But she did go and talk to Dawson? She did; she had to tell him something that she should have told him a long time ago. Oh, whatever. "Something about us?" Joey nods gloomily. "Something about…us and sex?" Joey doesn't know why she lied, but she did. Pacey lets her off the hook, saying that it's okay; at least she told the truth in the end. In the spirit of honesty, Pacey then admits that he didn't feel that upset when Joey didn't get the financial aid, and it's not that he doesn't want Joey to "realize [her] dreams," because he does, but for the first time he felt like it wasn't he that was holding her back. I…okay, what? Joey says that he's never held her back, and how can he even think that, but Pacey makes her promise that, if the day ever comes when he is holding her back, she'll cut him loose. Joey sputters. Pacey insists that she promise. Joey indignantly says she won't: "You're asking me to promise to let you go!" Pacey looks at her, his face softening, as she adds in a whisper, "I can't do that." She puts her head on his shoulder. He shields her from the cruel world. What. Ever.
Fishbowl-cam. "Exactly what is it we're doing, again?" Jack asks, peering at the fish. Jen, also peering, says it's an exercise to clear her mind so that her memory returns: "It's kinda like self-hypnosis." She rambles on absently about recalling why she's angry at her father and herself, resolving the anger, and going to school in New York City; meanwhile, Jack is completely entranced by the fish and is making hilarious faces at it. After a moment, he observes that it's only since she started seeing Tom Frost that Jack has started to think Jen "may in fact be…crazy." "Jack, do you wanna go to school in New York?" "Yeah." Ska-esque Music Of Hilarity. "Then shut up and watch the fish." Fishbowl-cam. I can't do justice to that scene, but it's cute.
Aaaaaand here's cute's complete opposite…Dawson, standing on the end of the PB&B pier and, not coincidentally, casting a very long shadow. Joey finds him there, and she's "a little surprised, considering," but Dawson tells her mildly, "I think you underestimate me." Well, based on your prior bad acts, you can't blame her, o not-quiet-enough and not-particularly-heroic one, but anyway, he adds, "I think we underestimate each other." Joey looks uncomfortable. Dawson says that, that night at the movie theater, he felt the rightness between them too, "and nothing will ever change that -- not going to school on different coasts, not meeting people who we're meant to love forever, nothing." Does this signal the long-overdue demise of his soulmate obsession? I can only hope. "And I want you to have this." Dawson holds out an envelope, presumably containing a check. Joey starts to protest, but Dawson interrupts to say that, while he doesn't know how he feels about her sleeping with Pacey, or how he'll feel about it in the future -- excuse me. Excuse me, Dawson? Nobody CARES how you feel about it, because it's NONE of your GODDAMN BUSINESS! So SHUT UP about it! GAAHHHD! Sorry. So he doesn't know how he feels about it, but he's "absolutely certain" that giving Joey the money "is the right thing to do," because he's certain about what he and Joey "mean to each other." Joey stares at him, trying not to cry, and nods as he finishes, "And I think you are too." Biting her lip, Joey abruptly hugs him, and over his shoulder she smiles, and then she says weepily, "Thank you," and over Joey's shoulder, Dawson closes his eyes and smells her hair. It's actually a nice moment, considering the crappy story in which it dwells. "You're gonna have some of the best years of your life at Worthington," Dawson tells her smugly as she stares down at the check, "and I wanna hear all about them." The camera pans up and away from the two of them standing together at the end of the pier, and The Piano Of Friendship plays, and so we learn that the price of a backbone is $60,000 USD.