Standing on his own, he looked glumly at her. So close to him, so close. He could have walked two steps forward and wrapped his arms around her from behind, the way he loved to, to surprise her. The way he was no longer entitled to.

Why did he feel so much like she was unreachable, untouchable? They hadn't even officially broken up. They hadn't even fought..... not really. He'd been mad, in a way; mad at himself for doing something so unbelievably stupid, much as he'd dug up justification for himself in front of Peterson and the principal. Mad at her, a little, for not understanding the way that he felt about what had happened to Jack. In the time-honoured tradition, he'd placed the guilt squarely on himself. It happened so much in his own house - he refused to call it his 'home' - that it had become almost second nature. But not so mad that he never wanted to see her again. Still, he'd allowed himself a few days to calm down during his suspension before he would call her. But she didn't call him. So he didn't call her. How many times had he reached for the phone, sitting alone in his room, and dropped it back into its cradle before he'd finished dialling her number? If she wanted to talk to me, she'd call me. And so it went on, until he arrived back to school to find her so clearly avoiding him that it physically hurt.

She had her back to him, talking to Jack and Joey as they stood at Jack's locker, where the faint red letters splashed across it two weeks before still showed.  He watched, as Jack cracked a weak joke and she threw back her head and laughed heartily, and then jerked away, embarrassed, as she whirled around and flashed him a hostile look, catching him boring holes into the back of her head.

Saved by the bell, he thought with relief, as it jangled loudly through Capeside's corridors. Dragged back to the scene before him almost against his will, he watched as Jack and Joey linked arms and wandered off, and she walked in the opposite direction. He wished - he wanted so badly to do the same with her. He knew where she was going - math - and he normally would've walked her there before going to his own class with Dawson and Jen.

Oh, God. This was rapidly reaching heights of unbearability. My girlfriend is flirting with a jock.

"Hey, Pacey." Rudely startled from his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder, he turned round to see both Dawson and Jen staring at him curiously.

"Where were you?" asked Jen, shifting her bag from one shoulder to the other.

"What? Nowhere," he answered quickly, unable to think of a cover story in time, and then, cracking a hopefully convincing smile,  added, "Haven't done my math homework. Trying to figure out how to fudge it."

Jen laughed. "Same old Pacey."

The words, "Isn't Dawson supposed to be the oblivious one?" wandered through his brain, as Dawson studied him curiously for a few moments. But, alas! Pacey's faith in Dawsonkind was restored, as Dawson smiled and said cheerfully, "Whatever. So, you gonna be free to help with the filming of the pageant scene? Jack's finally done making the set."

Oh yes. Jack. Even Jack hated him now. Pacey'd thought he'd actually done something good for him. No doubt there'd been Pacey-bashing parties aplenty at McPhee Manor lately.

"Sure. Hey,  we'd better go. We're gonna be late."

He hung back as Dawson and Jen walked on in front of him, talking animatedly about Creek Daze. He heard Jen make a crack about Abby as they settled into their seats, and he forced himself to laugh, relieved to hear it sound fairly convincing.

At least she's still able to laugh for real.

She didn't want him back, he could tell. And his pride simply wouldn't let him beg.

Oh, no. He was going to play the game her way.

Damn him. Does he have to make it so clear that he doesn't need me at all? However much I need him?

She just wished he'd stop staring at her like he hated her. She was starting to feel like a bug under a microscope. "Here, hold the scalpel," someone was saying. "Look! It's moving!"

>Mentally shaking the bizarre thoughts out of her head, she faked a laugh at one of Jack's pathetic jokes, and flashed him what she hoped was an equally hostile glare, although she couldn't help feeling that he'd sensed the begging underneath. It seemed to work, though; he scowled at her, and focused his attention on a passing cheerleader. She flinched, hurt and jealous, as Kristy Livingstone smiled at him.

Terrific. Looks like he never did get over that crush on Kristy.

She looked back at Joey and Jack, seemingly oblivious to the snide looks they were getting, as they laughed cosily. She sighed forlornly, as she pictured the times when she and Pacey would do the same; when he'd sneak up behind her and envelop her in his arms. Luckily, the bell shattered her depressing state of mind, and she headed off to her math class with relief, watching with undisguised envy as Joey and Jack ambled off arm-in-arm. A passing jock smiled flirtily at her; mechanically, she smiled back.

Pacey would've walked me to this class before.

Casting one last glance back, she saw Dawson and Jen come up to him; saw him smile happily as the three of them walked off together.

At least he's still able to enjoy himself.

Obviously, he didn't need her any more. And she wasn't quite at the begging stage yet.

Oh, no. She was going to play the game his way.

Unfortunately, her resolve was wavering. She just couldn't take the thought of him hating her any more. Even if he wouldn't take her back, she just wanted to apologise, to hear him say, "I don't hate you." Hopefully.

Opening the door of the house, she walked into the kitchen and collapsed onto a stool. Jack, poking in the refrigerator, commented, "Nice entrance, drama queen. So how was your day?"

"Hardy har har. Terrible."

Jack raised one eyebrow, and took a swig from a bottle of water. "Pacey?"

"How'd you guess?"

"Simple. The fact that the two of you spend all your time staring at each other's backs and studiously avoiding any mention of each other. Plus,  you jump every time the phone rings, and you nearly fell over your own feet when he walked past you yesterday."

"So he doesn't even mention me?" Unable to stop her voice from rising into a wail, she pretended to bang her head off the kitchen counter in a gesture directly borrowed from him, and leant forward on her elbows with a sigh.

Jack rolled his eyes. "The pair of you drive me crazy. Just call him!"

"Look, it's not that simple, all right? If he wanted to talk to me , he would've called me already. He's made it perfectly clear that he doesn't want to know me! I mean, did you see the way that he was staring at me this morning?"

"Andie. He was staring at you the exact same way you spend half your time staring at him. He's probably saying the exact same thing you are. Call him."

"I can't. What if he won't talk to me? Then I'd just break down crying and it would be so incredibly embarrassing and humiliating and I'd just make a bigger fool of myself than I already have. Or what if he will talk to me, but he just says that he wants us to be friends in future? I mean, I love him, Jack, and he said he loved me, and now it's driving me crazy seeing how he can have so completely forgotten that and moved on so quickly. I mean, did you see the looks that Kristy Livingstone was giving him today? And I already feel so bad about the way I treated him when he stood up for you against Mr. Peterson when he was only trying to do something good. Oh, God, Jack, what am I going to do?"

Jack, who'd grown cross-eyed during her rant, she noted with irritation, seemed a little confused. "Andie, I feel bad as well. I mean, I totally chewed him out about it afterwards. But Pacey's a good guy, and I know he still cares about you. And if you care for my mental health, you'll put both of us out of our misery and call him."

Sighing, she got up from her stool and reached for the phone. "All right! I'm calling him! I have absolutely no idea what to say, and will probably end up hanging up, but I'm calling him!"

Alone in his bedroom, Pacey sighed, banged his head off the wall a few times, and morosely stared at the phone, before finally reaching for it and dialling.

She punched in the number she knew by heart, and cradled the phone to her ear, listening intently during the few seconds it took to be put through.

Pacey removed the phone from his ear and let it dangle from his hand for a few seconds before listlessly dropping it back in the cradle, mumbling, "Busy. Figures."

Highly irritated, she slammed the phone back down. Jack looked mildly alarmed. "There! You see? It's busy! He's probably on the phone to Kristy right now setting up a date!"

Jack gave her what Joey had once described as "the universal look for 'sheesh, I give up' ", before ambling upstairs to his bedroom. Sighing, she sat down again and buried her head in her hands. Damn Pacey Witter! She was never going to think about him again. If she could help it. Well, she was damn well going to try.

Eating breakfast, he finally made his mind up. He was going to talk to her, and apologise for having taken the whole Peterson thing too far. He'd ask her if she still wanted to be with him, and hope to God that she'd say yes. He was beginning to wonder if he was literally losing his mind. God, I hope not, he thought gloomily. That's all she needs.

As she walked into the hallway, she saw him, standing alone by his locker. Their eyes instantly locked, and she was gratified to see him start towards her even as she walked to him. Gathering her courage, she said, in a voice that sounded horribly uncertain to her, "Pacey, can we talk?" He looked gratified.

"Sure, he answered, a wild flame of hope alighting that refused to be smothered by his years of bitter experience. "Uh, actually, I was just coming to ask you that myself." She smiled, faintly; his heart leapt.

"Pacey, I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for..... the way I treated you, and Jack. I mean, it was unfair, you were just trying to help my brother and I had no right to resent you for it. I really, truly believe that you did the right thing, but I just wish it hadn't made us fight like this because I've missed you a lot and I've been thinking that you hated me, and I just couldn't stand that, and I was worried because you didn't call, and you always call. And I just wanted to say... that I'm so sorry for - all of that, and I just wanted to know that you didn't hate me......" He smiled inwardly, at this typically Andie speech.

"Hate you? Andie, I could never hate you. No matter what you do to me. And I have an apology of my own to make. I'm so sorry that I took this whole thing with Peterson too far. I mean, I turned it into some moral crusade and got up on my high horse just because you wouldn't join it. And I'm so sorry that you thought I didn't care about you any more......." He trailed off. She was warmed inside, thinking: Jack was right. Thank goodness. He still cares.

"So....." he trailed off. "Do you want to....."

She smiled at him warmly. "Do you even have to ask?"

He smiled back, and leaned in cautiously, closing his eyes and touching his lips to her. She felt his arms pull her closer as her fingers twined into his hair, and she thought hazily: I've missed this, too.

"Hey, didn't I tell you two this a couple of weeks ago? Massive suck face embraces are better left for bedrooms and private sunsets."

Pacey and Andie looked at each other, to a smirking Joey, and back to each other. And laughed.