A brief note about the grade I gave this episode: despite the fact that I wasn't happy with what happened in the course of it, this episode was awfully well done, especially in comparison to last week's train wreck. Likewise, this was the first episode in recent memory during which I found myself being legitimately emotionally involved. I mean, "Castaways" was really good and I enjoyed the hell out of it, but this episode made me cry. (Don't tell anyone.) I think that some of what happens is questionable as far as plotting goes, but we haven't seen the way the Joey/Pacey or the Joey/Oliver relationships are going to play out, so I can't yet hold TPTB responsible for any hellacious crimes against humanity as far as that goes. Well written, well paced, very well acted: I have to hand it to the folks behind the scenes this week. That being said, if Joey has left Pacey for Oliver for good, my rage will be boundless and no one will escape its fiery power. Just a warning.
Previously on Dawson's Creek: Pacey and Joey rekindled their romance, to the delight of viewers everywhere; Joey Learned Valuable Lessons About Her Past, courtesy of Harley Flip-Flops and her Pacey-esque boyfriend Patrick; Dawson decided to make a movie with his own money and talked about financing it with High-Powered Money Man Pacey; and Oliver came back from California all of a sudden, causing Joey to make the dreaded Melted Wax Face and throwing Joey/Pacey fans into a pre-emptive and furious tizzy.
We open right where we left off last week, in Liberty Hell's kitchen. Joey stares at Oliver. I don't know if it's the lighting, or what, but suddenly her hair doesn't look nearly as two-toned. She wonders why he's in Boston, not California, and Oliver explains that he just left the west coast "for a while," but he hastens to assure her that everything worked out perfectly with The Best Writing School In The World and he starts in the fall. He tells Joey that he nailed the interview and that The Powers That Be loved his writing. "Which is surreal," he says, "because no one has ever loved anything I've done, except for you. Which is why I'm here." Um, call me crazy, but whatever happened to calling? Like, pick up the phone and give her the good news, Oliver. I guess one could make the argument that he's come back to Boston to live with his family before the fall term starts, so I'll let it slide, but still. Anyway, Oliver launches into Part One of this week's Celebration Of All Things Joey, telling her that she believed in him, she changed his life, she missed a final to have sex with him, she had the "decency to see the decency in him," she's the most decent person he knows, she's the most perfect person ever and blah blah blah, he can't write without her. Basically, he's asking her to be his muse. It occurs to me that there aren't nearly enough people asking me to be their muse. Let's get on that, people!
Anyway, I guess Oliver is still talking. Listen, people: Oliver Hudson is really cute, and he's not a bad actor. He and Katie Holmes have decent chemistry. But the only reason that the fans embraced him at all was because we all thought that Joey and Pacey were never going to get back together, and Oliver is a decent Pacey substitute. He's the Diet Coke of Pacey. But now that the fans have seen Joey and Pacey reunited, it's going to impossible to sell us on Oliver. Generally speaking, I mean. I suppose there are people out there who hate Pacey and love Oliver or something, so they might not be unhappy about this. Oh, just take the sentences above and substitute the word "Jessica" for "fans." Fine! Fine! The truth is out! I love Pacey and I don't care!
Anyway. "I need you around. What do you say?" Oliver asks. "No, no," Joey sort of stutters in a really indecisive way. Oliver comments awkwardly that that wasn't the answer he was looking for. "[Oliver], you walked away," Joey stammers. "I came back," he tells her. And didn't they make some kind of I Will Always Love You, Let's Meet Up In Paris pact when he left? So, really, I don't think it's surprising that Oliver is back expecting her to be happy to see him. The last he saw her, they were all making out on Pacific Avenue and whatnot. "I moved on," Joey says, very uncomfortably. "Oh. Okay," Oliver says. "If that's how you feel. Okay, I understand, I do. I guess I'll be seeing you, Joey," he says, then scampers off. See, all of this unfortunate uncomfortableness could have been avoided if someone picked up the phone, or used this newfangled invention that I hear is all the rage with the kids called "email." Communication! It's the key to successful relationships, people! At any rate, Joey calls her apologies after Oliver and rests her head in her hands and mopes her way into the credits.
After all the ovary wailing, we open on Joey's massive dorm room at Worthington College For Girls With Daddy Issues. Harley is going through Joey's closet and making disparaging comments about her formalwear, which begs the question: why does Joey have so much formalwear? When I was nineteen, I had one formal, which I had worn to my senior prom. Anyway, Joey is perched on her bed reading, her hair in cute little plaits. She asks Harley to please "pick something and leave." Harley picks at a flowered number. "If you're going to be chaperoning my semiformal, you need to wear something moderately hip so I don't look like a freak associating with you," Harley exposits, and wonders if Joey has anything that's even remotely "older woman sexy." Harley, Joey's, like, nineteen. If she's "older woman sexy," I must be entering my "hot retiree" stage. Then Harley decides that she'd rather Joey not look too hot at the party, as to avoid attracting poor stupid Patrick. Joey rolls her eyes and swears to keep her "Mrs. Robinson paws off Patrick." Then she kicks Harley out so she can study.
Cut to Casa Grams. Jen rolls out of bed and examines her messy, horrible hair in the mirror. "I look ridiculous," she announces. Well, Jennifer, knowing is half the battle. Jen begins combing her mop with her fingers. Blandy, shirtless, sidles up to her and they stare at each other in the mirror. Blandy assures her that she's "glowing," and they make out. It's like Eyes Wide Shut: The College Years. When they pull apart, Blandy tells Jen that the "Lindley women are something else." He explains that Grams broke his Uncle Bill's heart. "He can't even watch Wheel of Fortune because Vanna White reminds him of his devastation." This is amusing to me on several levels, the most prominent being the idea that Vanna White is now old enough to remind Uncle Bill of Grams. Jen shrugs that she had no idea Grams was "the black widow." Eventually, the two of them put some clothes on and then kiss some more. Well, I guess their sex problems are over. After some more making out, Blandy leaves. Jen calls after him that she'll see what she can find out about Grams.
Across town, Pacey strides purposefully into his office, calling Joey on his cell phone. "Is this Potter's House of Pain?" he asks when she answers, and I am taking that as a shout-out, thank you very much. She smiles weakly, and he asks her what happened to her last night. Joey yammers something about being too exhausted to come over, and he says he understands. "Last night we were very old people," he agrees, suggesting that they "act like young people" tonight. Joey mealy-mouths that she has plans to chaperone the Milton semiformal. "Consider my arm twisted, I'll be there," Pacey says. Joey raises her brows and purses her mouth up and asks if he's sure. "Sure as rain," Pacey says, and Joey tells him to pick her up at six. "I'll be there, shoes shined, suit pressed," he chirps. She hangs up and looks perturbed.
Dawson strolls into Boiler Room, Inc. at this point, and Pacey welcomes him to "the dream machine." Dawson grins, as Pacey asks him if he can "smell the money growing." Dawson snorts. "If it smells like Drakkar Noir…yeah, big time," he retorts. Snerk. Can I admit something? Something I may be fired for? I don't really hate Dawson anymore. I think he's sort of boring, but I don't hate him. He's not all going around telling people how to live anymore. I appreciate that. ["I actually agree that the writers have done a pretty good job of rehabilitating the character since Season Three." -- Sars] Anyway, he hands Pacey a check. It's all the money he's saved from his days in Hollywood. "I need you to make it grow," he says, telling Pacey that he needs the cash to finance his indie movie. "You up for it?" he asks. Pacey just furrows his brow and asks Dawson to step into his office. "Sure," Dawson chortles, the way you do when you realize that somehow your childhood friend has totally grown up.
The two of them head into Pacey's office, where he tells Dawson that he was sort of kidding about that whole Give Me Your Savings, I'll Make You A Fortune thing. Dawson's like, "Isn't that what you do here?" Pacey lowers his voice to a whisper. "Technically, yes," he says. "Why are you whispering?" Dawson asks, and Pacey explains that it could hurt his reputation if word got out that he was turning down a client for "moral reasons." He's unsure about mixing a business and personal relationship, especially since they're only recently on good terms. Dawson reminds him that they've certainly weathered "awkward" times, and they can handle a little money changing hands. Oh, Dawson. Don't you know that money breaks people up more often than sex does? Pacey takes a sip of coffee. "We've been through Awkward, but we've never been through I'm Broke And It's All Your Fault," he says. Hee. And let's all take note of this entire exchange in anticipation of the Pacey Loses All of Dawson's Money plotline which is surely just over the horizon. Dawson yammers that he has "a really good vibe" about his little movie project and he's learning to trust his instincts and blah blah earnest blah. "The only holding all this up right now is you," he tells Pacey, and grins. Oh, Dawson. You're still not irritating me, but you'd best remember that you totally talked Pacey into this after all your money goes up in flames and you're forced to work at the Capeside Quik-E Mart, where you're reminded of your father's tragic demise every time you prepare an ice cream cone.
Grams's House Of Denial And Tragedy. Grams herself sits at the kitchen table, reading Truman, as Jen skips in and announces merrily that they have to chat. She explains that Uncle Bill -- for whom, I am sure, we are all devastated, as we're seen him for a grand total of, like, two minutes -- is so distraught about their break-up that he's sworn off women for life. "Of course, if we're speaking frankly, I don't know how long that could actually be," Jen says, pouring a glass of OJ. "Jennifah," Grams admonishes her. Jen grins and exposits that suddenly she's embarking on a "semi-functional, somewhat committed relationship," whereas Grams is acting the fickle teen, breaking hearts left and right. Grams turns a page and sniffs that she's doing no such thing. "Okay, outburst!" Jen exclaims, then suggests slipping some St. John's wort into Grams's "morning Metamucil." At this, Grams just affixes her with a dirty look and leaves. Jen appears a little hurt that Grams did not taking her joshing in the spirit in which it was intended. I suspect that your haircut has hurt Grams's feelings beyond all measure, Jennifah.
Worthington School For Mean Bitches Who Break Up With Pacey for No Good Reason Whatsoever. Whoops, did I just say that? Joey stares at her bulletin board, which is really more like a Board Of Conquest, because instead of featuring, like, the syllabus for her history class and a schedule for spinning classes at the rec center, it features pictures of her with all the boys she's lured into her web: one of her with Oliver at Liberty Hell's Kitchen, several of her with Dawson, and one of Pacey on True Love. Joey gazes at the men in her life thoughtfully, as Pacey walks into the room in his lovely suit. "You're way too hot to be a chaperone," he says by way of greeting. Joey responds that he also looks "quite comely."
Pacey sets two boxes on her bed, explaining that "in order to make up for their last high school dance experience," during which he actually "bought her a corsage but let it wilt to a lovely shade of brown," he's brought her two corsages and she can choose which one she likes. Joey, because she's made of stone, looks less than thrilled as Pacey describes her options. First up: a veggie corsage, which Pacey calls "hip," failing to mention that it was first featured on , when Brenda and the girls gave their dates veggie boutonnières and Brenda and Kelly were wearing the same dress and then Brenda went off with Dylan and lost her virginity. , he presents her with a rose, dubbing it the " classic" option. Joey goes with the veggies, and Pacey fastens it to her wrist. Joey forces a smile and tells him that "in honor of the classy guy [he is] tonight," she's gotten him a rose boutonnière, which she affixes to his lapel. Hey, it's just like The Bachelorette! Except without the creepy host. Unless I'm considered the creepy host. In which case, I feel a little weird right now. So, Pacey grins that his classy guy look is "just a costume," and helps her on with her coat. He affectionately rests his chin on her shoulder before they go. And with a long, lingering shot of the Joey/Oliver photograph (like, we get it! She's conflicted!)…scene!
After the commercials, they arrive at the dance, which is decorated as though the theme is "Medieval Times" or something. I hope there's jousting later. Pacey grins at the all the adolescents and tells Joey that he "loves the smell of Secret antiperspirant in the evening." She gives him a dirty look. "It had to be said," he retorts. Is that a reference I'm not catching because I've blocked out so much of the history on this show just to be able to live from day to day, or is that a crack about Secret being the deodorant of choice for teens? Because I wear Secret! It's the only thing that keeps me from smelling. Or was that a very veiled "Smells Like Teen Spirit" reference, mixed in with a little Apocalypse Now in, like, a really horrible mélange of cultural references? Either way, I'm at a loss. Little Harley Flip-Flops turns to them and announces that "this night bites already," and she hasn't even gotten to the part where her friends "gather around her and gush about her dress." Oh, Harley. What is wrong with you? You totally show your girlfriends your dress way before the prom actually happens. Joey decides to take this moment to mention -- apropos of, like, nothing -- that Harley is not the first person to accompany a non-dancer to the prom, and mentions that Pacey is "famously uncooperative when it comes to the booty shake." As is, of course, Brandon Walsh. But no one mentions that! Even though the prom episode of is so deeply brilliant that none who saw it can erase its images from their mind! Pacey protests that he does, in fact, dance. "Under duress," Joey says, then finds the need to tell Patrick and Harley that Pacey broke up with her at their senior prom and so they never even got to dance at it at all! Pacey is like, okay, consider the dirty laundry aired. "Had to be said," Joey smirks, and instead of rolling his eyes, Pacey gives her a really, really smoldering look. Patrick leans in and smarms that Pacey is clearly "not of sound mind" to hurt the feelings of a babe such as Joey.
It is at this point that all of Harley's friends scamper over to squeal at her dress, and then she and Patrick bicker about something I didn't catch because I really can't be arsed to listen to the two of them, and Joey tells Patrick to go fetch them some punch. Pacey, for his part, informs Harley that she looks very pretty and, offering her his arm, asks her to dance. Aw. They head off, and Joey watches and smiles and refuses to stand up straight. At least her hair looks okay. She turns and looks at Patrick, who has returned from the punch bowl empty-handed. "Oh! Beverages!" he says. "I was wondering why I went over there." With that, he offers her his arm and they walk across the gym. Patrick explains that he's friends with a kid who managed to sneak in a bottle of peach schnapps, so if she wants the night to be "truly magical," he can arrange for "cocktails for two under the bleachers." Joey raises a brow, amused. "Just give me the word," Patrick concludes. "No," Joey tells him, and disengages her arm and walks away. "Think about it, babe," Patrick calls after her. Ah, spiked punch under the bleachers. Those were indeed the days. I can't remember the last time a boy invited me to surreptitiously imbibe on school grounds.
Cut to Casa Leery, where Dawson is hanging his Jaws poster in the place of honor in his bedroom. Gale swings by, and I'm happy to report that she's neither orange nor in possession of particularly ungodly hair. She does, however, appear to have a slight moustache in this scene, which I'm sure is a weird trick of the lighting or something, but if not: Jolen Crème Bleach, Gale. Jolen Crème Bleach, indeed. She wonders if Dawson moving home means that she's obligated to give him an allowance, and this leads into a What Are You Going To Do For Money/Do You Plan To Contribute To This Family's Coffers, Young Man? discussion, and I can't believe it, but I sort of feel bad for Dawson, who offers to babysit Li'l Lily Leery free of charge as his contribution to room and board, which, considering the fact that he's nineteen, seems like a sort of fair barter. I mean, I'm all for the If You're Not Going To College, You Need A Job thing from Gale, but at the same time, the kid isn't even of legal drinking age and I don't think it would kill Gale to be a little supportive, at least for a month or so. I mean, Dawson would be living at home during the summer if he were still in school, presumably rent-free. Gale doesn't really respond to his free child care offer (and, I'll admit, I might be a little sensitive to this issue because I was a nanny to my siblings during my own summer breaks from ages sixteen to nineteen, and let me tell you, it was hard work), and instead tells him that she needs to know what his Plan B is. What does he plan to do if he doesn't become a director? Dawson looks sort of stunned. I can see where she's coming from, but at the same time, he is nineteen. It's not like he's doing this at thirty-five. I guess I sort of think that you ought to be given some leeway to fuck around when you're still in your teens, and it's not like he's asking her for cash to fund his project. I don't know. I can't believe I'm even arguing his point of view. What's wrong with me? Of course, this all acts as an excellent illustration of one of the best reasons for going to college and making your movies during the summer. Being in school gets Mom off your back.
After the break, Dawson sits in front of his computer and makes pained faces. Ah, yes. Writer's block. I know it well. After a series of nostril flares and eyebrow quirks, Dawson shuts the computer down and leaves the room. And this is as good a place as any for me to say that I have always thought the little canoe bookshelf in Dawson's room is both cute and clever.
Back to the prom, where Harley dances with some tall boy with greasy hair who talks endlessly about himself. She alternately giggles up at him and stares at Patrick, who sits on the bleachers and looks pissed. Joey and Pacey stand on the sidelines and chat about the punch, which Pacey hopes is spiked, at least for cliché value. Pacey idly wonders when they get their pictures taken "in front of the tropical mural" and Joey is all, "That would be prom," and he's like, "I've blocked prom out," and she goes, "It wasn't your finest hour," and I get it: they're structuring this so that Joey leaves Pacey at the dance, in some kind of symmetry to the prom. Pacey tells Joey that he was "troubled" back then. "You were a dumb-ass," Joey says, but smiles a wee bit. "Was I at least a mysterious dumb-ass, with smoldering sex appeal?" Pacey asks, coming around to set his chin on her shoulder cozily. "Dumb-ass," Joey repeats. Pacey tells her that he can accept that, because now he's "a happy dumb-ass." He nuzzles her neck. "I got a second chance," he breathes. Oh, this is going to break my heart. Joey looks perturbed and ducks away from his kisses as, on the other side of the gym, Patrick starts whaling on the tall greasy boy Harley had been dancing with.
A crowd of juveniles surrounds the fighting boys, as Harley yells about what a shitty date Patrick's being. Joey looks at Pacey, who just chuckles at the boys' shenanigans. "Do something," she hisses. "It's just so funny," Pacey explains, then wilts under the heat of her glare and goes and breaks up the fight, barely concealing his laughter from the kids. "That's how you try to win my heart? Giving the guy a wedgie?" Harley yelps toward Patrick. "It's called the Krav Maga, and J-Lo used it in Enough," Patrick announces self-importantly, and somewhat amusingly. After a weak "Paddy from the block" joke from Tall and Greasy, the boys get back into the fisticuffs, and Patrick accidentally decks Pacey.
Post-duel, Harley and Joey retreat to the girl's bathroom. Joey dabs timidly at Harley's tearstained face and assures the girl that her smudged make-up makes her look like a rock star. Yeah, but, like, Courtney Love or something, and that's totally not an appropriate look for a fifteen-year-old girl. "Where's He Whose Name Shall Not Be Mentioned?" Harley sniffles. Shout-out? I'll take it. Joey tells Harley that Voldemort is in the bathroom with Pacey, "getting cleaned up." Harley snuffles that she and Patrick had their first kiss in the boys' bathroom. There's nothing more conducive to romance than the odor of urinal cakes, it's true.
Cut to the boys' bathroom, where Pacey tells Patrick that he's all in favor of the "grand romantic gesture," but he thinks Patrick ought to just buy Harley a wall. And he ought to "punch someone his own size," if he's still so married to the idea of hitting someone. "Yeah, like you're the Rock or something," Patrick grouses. Pacey responds to this very maturely, calling Patrick "a hobbit" and then commenting that he, at least, can grow facial hair. "What do you call this?" Patrick asks, rubbing his clean-shaven face. "Lint," Pacey breaks it to him gently.
Back in the girls' room, Harley sniffs that she can't believe she's crying in the bathroom. Joey sighs that it's an "age-old tradition" to sob in the john, and admits that she did it herself in high school. Harley snaps sobbily that if her high school experience turns out anything like Joey's, then she is doing something horribly, horribly wrong. Which is sort of true. Except for that summer where she got to sail around the world with Pacey. That part sounded pretty good to me. Joey shrugs that "that's just how it goes with the high school dance." You think your date will say all the things you're dying for him to say, she explains, but "inevitably, you end up in the girls' room, crying." Personally, I didn't cry at my prom, but I knew lots of girls who did. I think that many, many girls put a lot of pressure on themselves as far as the prom goes (pressure that, in retrospect, seems ridiculous), and that tends to manifest itself in tears when you're sixteen or thereabouts. The morning after my prom, I woke up and realized that it wasn't nearly the big deal I had made it out to be in the dark, dank recesses of my brain. It helped that I realized in the midst of the prom that I didn't really like my date all that much. Anyway.
Boys' room. Pacey asks if Patrick likes Harley. Patrick does. Pacey congratulates him and says that "true feelings for a woman" will make him "strong," will make him "stupid," and will take him closer to "becoming the man he wants to be." Pacey makes love sound kind of like the army.
Girls. Joey explains that, while girls expect their boyfriends to pour out their hearts at prom, the boys expect to get laid. "Well," Harley begins, and Joey's eyes bug out. She directs Harley not to have sex with Patrick under any circumstances. "I know!" Harley squeals.
Boys. Pacey instructs Patrick to tell Harley that he likes her. This leads, somehow, to Patrick head-butting him. Don't ask. It just happened.
Girls. "So you've really had a bad time at every dance you've been to?" Harley asks. Joey plays with Harley's hair. "Yeah," she says, and then corrects herself. "Except this one. This one was nice." She smiles at Harley in the mirror and Harley snips that she's glad someone had a good time.
So, Joey walks in on Patrick and Pacey wrestling in the bathroom. That's not a euphemism or anything. She gives them an incredulous look, and the boys disengage. She cocks a brow and walks out. Patrick wonders why he's taking advice from Pacey. "Like you're some kind of Yoda when it comes to the chicks," he snorts. Pacey furrows his brow. "Have you seen my date?" he asks. Patrick thinks about this and nods. "Tell me more, sensei," he says, clapping his hand on Pacey's back.
Grams's. She sits on the sofa knitting. Jen skips into the room holding the phone, and chirps that Grams just got a call from the doctor's office, confirming her appointment. Grams sort of nods, and Jen settles down on top of the coffee table. She giggles that she's never heard from that particular doctor and she knows something is going on with Grams and she demands to know what it is! Jen? If it's a doctor's office, it's probably not good news, so stop chortling. She tells Grams that she needs to "come clean for the common good." Grams gives her a long, appraising look and finally gives in. She has breast cancer, and it's spread beyond the point where surgery would be effective. Jen's eyes just fill with tears. And, I have to admit it, so do mine. Oh, Grams. Grams just nods smartly, like, "Are you happy now?" Jen just blanches. "Are you talking about breast cancer? Oh my God," she breathes. "Yes," Grams says shortly, and then asks Jen to go turn down the oven. "Now, please, just go," she says. Jen can't move. She just squinches up her face and tries not to cry as Grams flounces off to rescue her pie crust.
Joey steps outside the gymnasium to find Pacey standing on the porch. She examines his wounds, as he smiles down at her and tells her that the evening was "quite nice." Joey agrees, saying that "it's been a perfect night." She looks up at him, so sadly. "I can't do this," she tells him. Pacey doesn't get it. "Even when everything is perfect, being with you doesn't feel right. And I'm sorry," Joey tells him. Argh. Oh, God. I'm having chest pains. Pacey just looks broken. "Everything tonight…" Joey begins, awkwardly. "Tonight was lovely and fun and you've become this amazing man, but it doesn't…I'm sorry. I don't…I don't feel it. And I can't do this with you," she says. Pacey gulps and asks her to please just slow down for a second. "No, Pacey, it's true," Joey tells him, very sadly. "I'm sorry." Pacey quickly assures her that she's just scared, and says that he is too. "I think it could go anywhere," he says, "this could be it." He sounds so sad and so hopeful at the same time. "It won't be," Joey tells him softly. "How could you possibly know that," Pacey asks, with tears in his voice. "I mean, last week you're on board and now…" He goes on to plead that she can't possibly know this won't turn into something wonderful. But Joey tells him that she does know, and she's so, so sorry. "But how?" Pacey asks her. Oh, God. This is so sad. They are acting the hell out of this scene.
"And when did you make this decision, tonight?" he asks, going to on to tell her again that he knows she's just scared. "I've known you for too long and I've seen you push away too many good things to let you push me away right now," he tells her. Oh, sniffle. Sniffle. "Joey, my whole life, you have been the most beautiful thing in my orbit and my feelings for you were what proved to me that I could be great. And those feelings were stronger and wiser and more persistent and more resilient that anything else about me," he tells her. Joey tries to interrupt, but Pacey won't let her. "No. When I was afraid of everything, I was never afraid to love you and I could love you again. I could," he tells her. Finally, Joey can't take it. She yells at him to stop, albeit not unkindly. "[Oliver] came back," she whispers, and Pacey just goes green. He says nothing. "I'm sorry," she says. "He came back last night. He came to the bar." She looks up at him pleadingly. "Oh. Okay," Pacey says, and just walks away silently. Joey watches him go, sadly. Oh, God. My heart is in a thousand pieces right now. I have to say, that scene was great. I mean, it really made me horribly sad and I think Joey is making a huge mistake, but that bit was very well acted by both Josh Jackson and Katie Holmes.
Casa Leery. Dawson, fed up with his bout of writer's block, pops Creek Days into the VCR. Didn't it used to be called Creek Daze? Or did we just make that up? Whatever. He watches his old movie, and Gale brings him a sandwich and a drink, noting that he must be feeling nostalgic. Dawson sighs that things were easier then; he had a "whole support system," Gale perches on the bed and asks about his process on the script. Dawson admits that he's totally blocked. Then he tells her that he doesn't have a back-up plan and he won't ever have one. "I'm going to be a director," he announces. Oh, dear. If only it were that easy. Let me try that: I'm going to be Mrs. Michael Vartan. Okay, I'll report back on how that works. Yadda yadda movies blah blah blah trust yamma schlamma blarg. Finally, Gale tells Dawson this story about the Flash and how he had all this crazy, half-cocked money-making schemes that all stemmed back to, like, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Dawson furrows his brow. "Okay, this was a little more subtle than your other life lessons," he says. Gale tells him that she loved all of the Flash's nutty plans, even if they did drive her up the wall, and they agree that they're very sad that he died in that horrible double-dip accident and that reminds her that she has to call their lawyer about the suit against the Dairy Advisory Board. And then she agrees that he can baby-sit Lily in exchange for room and board, and she tells him she loves him and wishes him luck, and she goes to bed. Dawson looks thoughtfully at the pictures on his old bulletin board, at pictures of his old high school crowd, of his father, of the first four seasons of this show. And then he starts typing.
Back in Boston, Grams is making cherry pie. Angrily. Jen comes in and sobbily announces that there's "nothing wrong with being scared." Grams retorts that being scared "does no one any good." Jen wonders what she can do to help. Grams instructs her to get the butter. Jen haltingly announces that she wasn't talking about the pie. She meant, you know, the cancer. Grams is silent, as Jen talks about driving Grams to treatment, about TiVoing 60 Minutes, about cooking meals in advance. "And when you get bored, Jack and I can act out scenes from Moulin Rouge for you." Man, I wish I were recapping that show. ["I wish I were on that show." -- Sars] Grams snaps that Jack can have nothing to do with this. Because he's DEAD. Seriously, where is Jack? He hasn't been in an episode in literally weeks. Anyway, Grams tells Jen that this is her own personal business and she can take care of it herself. "What about me? Who's going to take care of me? I mean, you're my grandma. You're the person I love most in the world," Jen sniffles. I'm misting up a tiny bit, people. "And you're sick and I'm the one who's scared," Jen sobs. Grams stops her pie-making and tells Jen that her diagnosis is not a death sentence. Plenty of people her age go into remission after radiation treatment, she says. Jen nods and squeezes her eyes together and snuffles that she wants to talk about that part. "Could we at least start talking?" she asks. Grams glares at her. "Jennifah, I am not ready to die yet!" she says forcefully, and that's when I really start to cry. I'm crying a little bit right now. Don't tell anyone. "Come here!" she says, wrapping both of her arms around Jen and hugging her tightly. "You hear me? Huh? Do you?" she asks, and Jen nods and Grams kisses her and I totally bawl.
Prom. Or whatever. I think it's not actually the prom, but, you know, close enough. Patrick and Harley are dancing one of the final dances, her shoes dangling from one hand. They banter about the fisticuffs, and it's pretty clear that they're both fairly smitten. Aw. Then Patrick tells Harley that he likes her, and she compliments him on his speech. "Pacey teach you that?" she asks. "Yeah, that and how to unhook a bra with one hand," he grins. She warns him he better not try that, or he'll find himself minus a hand. They smile at each other and dance.
Joey, on the other hand, sits alone on the bleachers. Pacey comes up to her and extends a hand. He looks so incredibly sad. "If memory serves, I owe you a dance, Miss Potter," he says. Joey just looks up sadly, and then gets up and goes with him. Oh, he looks so sad. So does she. So do I. Pacey and Joey slow dance in silence. She looks thoughtful over his shoulder. He looks wrecked over hers. He closes his eyes. "You're just another girl," the music says, and then the music stops and they stop dancing and he pulls away. He takes both of her hands in his, and they look at each other for one long moment. Then Pacey drops her hands and walks away, leaving Joey standing alone on the dance floor.
thing you know, a cab is pulling up in front of Oliver's house. Joey climbs out of the cab and makes her way up the walk. She knocks on the door, and Oliver steps out onto the porch. Joey awkwardly comments that he must be wondering what she's doing there, and then she pulls him into the most passionless kiss ever. Both of them have their lips as tightly closed as humanly possible. I've seen more tongue between siblings. When they finally step apart -- and the icy cold front lifts -- Joey smiles up at him. "Hi," she giggles, and hugs him. She stares over his shoulder and looks a little…can it be regretful? Here's hoping. Because everyone knows that Oliver is just a second-rate Pacey, and nothing makes that point more than placing the two of them side to side like this. The chemistry between Joey and Pacey is really great, whereas the chemistry between Joey and Oliver is really…eh. It's just not believable that she would choose what we've seen between her and Oliver -- namely, tepid companionship --- over what we've seen with her and Pacey, which comes across as an actual romance. If this choice ends up sticking, I will be hard-pressed to understand where the writers are going with this. That being said, I think this episode was really affecting, and I'm interested to see what happens , possibly for the first time in two years. Go figure.
And this episode ends with a PSA that basically directs those of you dealing with cancer in any way to Gillette Cancer Connect. If you need help there, I hope you find it. Until week.