Post by Isabella Ramirez on Aug 19, 2007 13:14:59 GMT -5
The ringing of the doorbell startles Joey so that he accidentally draws a line across his homework. Frowning, he tosses the ruined page aside. The doorbell rings again and he gets up, going downstairs to open it. He is startled to see Dawson standing there, holding a suitcase and a pillow. He is even more startled to see the expression on the other boy’s face. It is one he recognizes, for he’s seen it in the mirror so many times. “My world is falling apart”, it says. Joey steps aside and Dawson walks in. Joey shuts the door behind him, watching him closely. Although they have made peace, it is still hesitant. They have to take it slowly. Seventeen years of enmity does not fade lightly.
“Dawson? Are you alright?”
Stupid question. Joey gives himself a mental kick almost as soon as he says it. How many times as a child did he wish people would not ask him that?
“I guess so.”
Since they somehow became friends over calculus homework, and are only friends within these walls, they can afford to be honest with one another. To tell would be to reveal the friendship: fatal to both.
“What happened?”
Joey takes Dawson’s suitcase from him and leads the stunned boy up to his room. They sit on the bed and Joey looks at Dawson: pale, and obviously shaken.
“The landlord kicked us out.”
Dawson runs his hands over his face and flops back onto the bed. Joey nods, seeing how much this has rocked the foundation of Dawson’s world.
“Where will you stay?”
Joey, ever practical, has no patience for emotional crisis from anyone, himself included.
“Your dad said we could stay here.”
Dawson peers at Joey through his hands. He’s vulnerable by now, and automatically Joey adds this to the list of things he must not tell. Dawson’s fall from grace must be contained to this house. If it can be.
“Oh, okay.”
Cool, casual, Joey refuses to acknowledge the quickened beating of heart.
“That’s okay, right?”
Joey is surprised, but Dawson looks as though he actually cares about the answer.
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
Joey can think of a million reasons why it isn’t fine, but he won’t tell Dawson that. Right now what Dawson needs is a friend who doesn’t care about status and money and all of that. So Joey adapts to the role, ignoring the alarm bells in his head. This isn’t Dawson’s fault, after all.
“Dawson? Are you alright?”
Stupid question. Joey gives himself a mental kick almost as soon as he says it. How many times as a child did he wish people would not ask him that?
“I guess so.”
Since they somehow became friends over calculus homework, and are only friends within these walls, they can afford to be honest with one another. To tell would be to reveal the friendship: fatal to both.
“What happened?”
Joey takes Dawson’s suitcase from him and leads the stunned boy up to his room. They sit on the bed and Joey looks at Dawson: pale, and obviously shaken.
“The landlord kicked us out.”
Dawson runs his hands over his face and flops back onto the bed. Joey nods, seeing how much this has rocked the foundation of Dawson’s world.
“Where will you stay?”
Joey, ever practical, has no patience for emotional crisis from anyone, himself included.
“Your dad said we could stay here.”
Dawson peers at Joey through his hands. He’s vulnerable by now, and automatically Joey adds this to the list of things he must not tell. Dawson’s fall from grace must be contained to this house. If it can be.
“Oh, okay.”
Cool, casual, Joey refuses to acknowledge the quickened beating of heart.
“That’s okay, right?”
Joey is surprised, but Dawson looks as though he actually cares about the answer.
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
Joey can think of a million reasons why it isn’t fine, but he won’t tell Dawson that. Right now what Dawson needs is a friend who doesn’t care about status and money and all of that. So Joey adapts to the role, ignoring the alarm bells in his head. This isn’t Dawson’s fault, after all.