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 "CraaaayzeeeI'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.
“ 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, yeahlook who's talking, Chaste-afarian. ”
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, yeahlook 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 outwhy 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.
“ We can figure out that it's groceries. It's a grocery bag. ”
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 froma 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.