Jen leaned against the wall, her head suddenly feeling heavy as she gripped the telephone in one hand.
"He’s hot isn’t he?" she asked desperately, eyes to the ceiling.

"Sorry?" Karen’s soft voice was full of confusion as she tried to decipher the voice against the background noise of loud music, chattering and laughter.

"Pacey. What have I been thinking all these years?" Jen pulled her hand around her stomach. "He’s hot isn’t he?"

On the other end of the line, Karen rolled her eyes, flopping back onto the bed.

"What are you talking about?"

"It’s Jen, Karen. Jen Lindley. As in your best friend, your-"

"Yeah, I kind of had that one pegged," Karen interrupted with a sigh. "Now what’s this about Pacey?"

"I just-" Jen sighed, slipping down the wall and pulling the chord of the phone into a long, elasticised string. "I was talking to this friend of his, and he just assumed that I’d know, and the fact that we, well, haven’t done anything is purely out of my choice and not that-" She broke off, heart beating fast as she wondered what the end of the sentence actually was.

"Not that you might have spent the last five years in a mock comatose, oblivious to the fact that you wake, sleep, and live with a man who was born to make women weak at the knees?"

Jen’s mouth formed into a soft ‘O’ of surprise. Finally, she grimaced. "F*uck it, Karen. I can’t think about this now."

"Then why did you phone?"

"I-" Jen shut her mouth, gritting her teeth for a few seconds before opening it again. "Why do you always have to be right?"

She heard Karen sigh.
"You really want to know?"

"Yes." Jen winced. "I really want to know."

"He’s hot. If he showed even one iota of interest in me, my friend, I’d be all over him and kicking you out on that pert little ass by now. But he doesn’t. He’s not interested in me."

Jen brought her free hand to her face and rubbed her eyes tiredly, letting her face flop forward against the crook of her arm. "Karen,I can’t start thinking about him like this."

"What, you’ve never even remotely 'entertained' the idea in the dark recesses of your brain?"

"No! I mean, I’ve never thought that, and I know that he’s "but-"

"Okay Lindley, brain cells are in short order as it is, let’s not lose any more."

Angrily, Jen pulled at a loose strand of her hair, nails digging into the soft curl. "This is going to ruin everything."

"You’ve never had a crush before, Jen?" Karen raised an eyebrow. "Even as a frosted blonde, I’d say this is pretty obvious, babe."

"You know, as much as I love your biting sarcasm..."

"Okay. Is the feeling mutual?"

Jen’s face crumpled.
"I think not."

"Okay, how did I know you were going to say that?"

"Because it’s the truth?" Jen offered, eyebrows raised.

"No, because you’re even more oblivious than I thought. Now listen, Jen-"

"What?" her eyes narrowed in confusion. "What did you mean by that?"

"Nothing." Karen sighed. "Nothing at all. Look, Jen, maybe you need to start looking for the signs."

"And how do you propose I do that, follow the new Highway code for lusting after your best friend?"

"The way he acts around you, what he says, if the little green monster pops up when somebody looks our way and if-" She grinned. "That’s not the only thing that pops up occasionally."

Jen winced, feeling the blush rise up through her cheeks.
"Karen-"

"You asked." There was a pause, and her voice hardened. "Look, Jen, get a hold of yourself." Jen’s hand tightened around the phone, as she closed her eyes. "Pick yourself up. Get a grip. You can do this."

"Do what?" She asked weakly.

"Go back in there, f*uck it all."

"Pretend like it’s not an issue?"

Karen paused, her mouth turning into a frown. Like there was even an answer she could possibly give that would be right. Even partially right.
"No, Jen. One of these days you’re going to have to figure it out. You think you’ll be able to watch him loitering around your apartment in a towel and turn the other cheek for the rest of your life?"

Jen grimaced.

"Okay, forget I ever said it."

"You’re moving out already? Honey, it can’t be that bad."

"No, I’m getting over this." She laughed, shakily. "This isn’t me, Karen. I don’t get 'crushes' on friends, or obsess about roommates, or people that have absolutely no interest in me whatsoever."

"Well, maybe he does."

"No." Jen clenched her eyes shut. "He doesn’t Karen. You’re right." She took a long, deep breath. "I need to get a grip. Go back in there and-"

"Dance the night away?"

"Yeah. Get groped by some random man and go back to our apartment to have torrid, meaningless sex."

"Sounds divine. Pacey will love you for it."

"No." Jen let her head fall back against the wall, turning to the side so she could see crowds of people on the other side of the door. Her chest tightened. "I don’t think he’d even mind."

Karen sighed, tilting her head to the side and staring at the ceiling, phone held between chin and shoulder. "Jen, I-"

"No. Don’t worry. I should go. I have a lot of dancing to do if I’m going to find my frog before closing."

"Well-" Karen gave a wry smile. "Kiss him hard for me."

"I will." She paused. "Bye, Karen."
Jen listened with a heavy heart to the dialling tone, still clutching the cool metal to her ear. Restlessly she drummed her fingers against the sides.

What was this? Was she an idiot?

"Jen?"

Jen looked up, startled by the familiar voice. Pacey had just turned the corner and was standing in the middle of the hallway, looking down at her. Concern spread through his eyes like liquid, and it made her stomach burn. F*uck it, she didn’t want his sympathy. She didn’t want his anything.

"Hey, Pace."

Pacey raised an eyebrow, eyes running from her red face, damp eyes and soft, wet mouth, to her knees hiked up to her chest, skirt fallen down around her thighs. Quickly, he averted his eyes.

"Appropriated the corridor now have you?"

Jen grimaced, reaching up to put the phone back on the hook, wondering why Pacey’s gaze was fixed to the wall on the other end of the corridor. . She lay her palm down on the cold stone floor.
"I felt like a little space."

He turned again, slowly, watched her in silence before crossing the space between them in a single step, crouching to his knees in front of her. Reaching out, Pacey tucked a finger under her chin.
"You okay, Jen?"

"Yeah."
And, surprisingly, it was the truth. Jen’s eyes were damp but she smiled through it. He was a great friend. And if she kept telling herself that, she could try and ignore the way his eyes lit up, or his smile, or how his arms tensed when he was nervous, how he strutted around their apartment with-

She closed her eyes.

"I’m okay."

His hand was still under her chin, the pads of his fingers resting gently as he studied her.
"You look strange," he told her quietly.

"Thankyou. It’s a good job I don’t feel it too or I’d be in therapy for the next four hundred years."

"You look...upset, almost," he told her, ignoring her comment.

"No. Just tired." She smiled, this time the warmth reaching her eyes as she looked at him.

"Come on, let me give you a hand up." Circling her wrist with his, he pulled hard and hoisted her up off the floor. Letting go casually enough, Jen brushed the dirt from the back of her legs and straightened her hem.

"I look presentable?"

"You look beautiful."

Jen bit her lip, and followed him through back into the bar.

She was going to get through this if it killed her.