Trouble in Paradise (Dawson's Creek) - Softcover

Chapter One

Jen Lindley walked into the Ice House just as a bunch of raucous college-age guys were on their way out.

"Whoa! Worlds collide!" the guy in the front of the pack whooped. He tried to feint around Jen but bumped into her, practically knocking her over. She lost her balance and would have fallen if not for a pair of strong arms that caught her. Meanwhile, the guy who had almost knocked her over continued out the door without a backward glance.

"You okay?" Strong Arms asked.

Jen righted herself and checked him out. His hunky arms were attached to an equally hunky torso, which was attached to a Ryan Phillippe-esque face.

"Your friend's a jerk," Jen told him.

"He's a friend of a friend," Strong Arms said. "My real friends are only semi-jerks." He grinned at her. "I'm Drake Keller. You're -- ?"

"Jen Lindley."

"Jen Lindley," he repeated, still grinning. "I think this is what is commonly known as 'meeting cute.' So, do you live here or -- "

"Yo, Keller, let's go, man!" One of his friends had stuck his head inside the door. "We're already late."

"Be right there." Drake turned back to Jen. "Well, I guess this is boy meets girl, boy loses girl. Anyway, I apologize for my friend of a friend."

"Apology accepted," Jen said. "Nice meeting you." She watched him walk away. He looked just as good going as he had coming.

"As we used to so cleverly say in grade school, take a picture, it'll last longer," Joey Potter called to Jen as she sailed by. She carried a platter loaded with plates of burgers and fries.

"Forget it," Jen mumbled. "Guys that cute are dangerous." She'd been in trouble with cute guys one too many times.

It was an unusually warm summer night for Capeside, Massachusetts, and Jen had been home alone, monumentally bored. So she'd wandered next door to Dawson's, to see what he was up to. Dawson's dad was in the garage, sorting through his golf clubs. He said he thought Dawson had gone to the Ice House.

The Ice House. Joey's sister Bessie owned it, and Joey was waitressing there all summer. Though Jen and Dawson had been a couple briefly, it was patently obvious to Jen and everyone else that Dawson was still in love with Joey. So Jen and Dawson had broken up. Jen knew she should get over him. Move on. But her stupid heart refused to listen to her head.

Jen looked over at Joey, who was delivering the burger platters to a table of young girls. Joey was tall and freshlooking, beautiful in a natural way of which she seemed completely unaware. Jen tried to remember when she, too, had been that innocent, but her memory didn't go back that far.

She spied Dawson sitting at the counter with his best friend, Pacey Witter, and Pacey's girlfriend, Andie McPhee. Jen walked over and heard them arguing about something.

"You're completely wrong," Dawson was saying to Andie. "To even compare the film of Man of La Mancha to the film of Don Quixote is to totally trivialize Cervantes' work."

"Sue me, I like musicals," Andie said, swiping a French fry from Pacey's plate.

"Gee, Dawson, the category is movies, quelle surprise," Jen joked, settling onto the stool next to him.

"Hey, Jen," Dawson greeted her. "I rented the 1957 Russian version of Don Quixote to watch tonight, and Andie's sublimating her anger with French fries because I didn't get Man of La Mancha instead."

"It has subtitles, Dawson. Movies with subtitles should be illegal in the summertime," Pacey decreed. "Too much work."

"This happens to be a seminal piece of filmmaking," Dawson insisted.

"Not every film experience has to be important, Dawson," Andie said.

"I think I can settle this little dispute," Jen broke in. "It's a sultry summer night. As teenagers, it's thus our responsibility to be doing wild and sultry things."

"Preferably while wearing very little clothing," Pacey added.

"Exactly," Jen agreed. "Which leaves out all movies, case closed, and you'll get my bill in the mail." She took a sip of Dawson's milk shake.

"So young and yet so profound," Pacey approved. He reached for a button on his shirt. "Shall we shed?"

"We shall shed-up," Andie quipped sweetly.

Joey came up behind them. "My feelings exactly." She dropped a bus tray of dirty dishes on the counter and eyed Jen warily. "Please tell me you don't want to order."

"Take a break, Joey, I'll mooch Dawson's milk shake."

"Mooch away," Dawson offered.

Jen winked at him, and her heart raced when he smiled back. Why did he still get to her so much? After all, she was the sophisticated one, the been-there-done-that queen of the fast lane who had moved to tiny Capeside from New York City. So how could one Capeside guy who dreamed of becoming the next Steven Spielberg turn her into mush?

Maybe, Jen thought, if Dawson and Joey were still officially an item she could force her heart to play dead. Her own feelings totally confused her. Sometimes she wanted Dawson desperately, other times she wasn't so sure. But Jen was always sure of this: when Dawson looked at Joey, and she could see how much he still loved Joey, Jen hurt in a way she tried not to expose too often.

Dawson's love was just so...so pure, Jen mused. Immature, maybe. Idealistic, definitely. And yet she missed it. So much.

Bessie carried a freshly baked carrot cake out from the kitchen. "Did you check on that table of girls in the back, Joey?"

"We bonded like sisters," Joey told her sarcastically, reaching under the plastic dome on the counter for a jelly doughnut. "They told me they're from Boston, and they're thirteen going on seven. They want to know where they can go to party with hot guys."

"See, this is exactly why we won't live in a big city," Bessie said, heading back into the kitchen.

Jen craned her neck to look at the girls. Two of them were smoking, desperately trying to look sophisticated. "They remind me of me at that age."

One of the girls got up and walked toward them. She had long red hair and freckles she'd tried to cover with too much makeup. A lit cigarette dangled from one hand. "Hey, what's happening?" she asked them, exhaling smoke.

Andie waved the smoke away. "This is the nonsmoking area."

"Whatever," the girl said nastily. "So, any hot parties tonight?"

"Sorry," Pacey said. "They were all last night."

The girl shook her hair off her face. "No offense, but this town sucks. Do you guys know how we can score some beers without ID?"

"You might be a little young for that," Jen said.

The girl's face turned bright red. "Who are you supposed to be, my mother?"

"I just mean I've been there," Jen said softly. "It's not worth it."

"Get a life," the girl spat, and whirled away.

"God, kids get into stuff young now, huh?" Andie marveled. "I was playing with Barbie dolls at her age.

"It's sad," Dawson said. "She's already bypassed romantic innocence and moved on to meaningless lust."

"Watch it," Pacey cautioned. "I happen to find lust very meaningful."

"You know what I mean, Pacey," Dawson insisted. "Like, take Don Quixote for instance."

Andie groaned and dropped her head on the counter.

"He loved Dulcinea so much that he only saw her as perfect and beautiful," Dawson went on, "no matter how anyone else saw her, no matter what she did."

"Dawson, I hate to be the one to burst your romantic bubble, but Dulcinea had sex for money," Jen said, as Joey started to wipe down the counter. "With everybody."

"That's my point. To him, Dulcinea was still pure, no matter what she did."

Jen chuckled. "Wait, Dawson. Aren't you the guy who went ballistic when his girlfriend kissed another guy?"

"Former girlfriend," Joey added quickly, a little embarrassed, since Jen was referring to her.

"At the time, you weren't 'former,'" Jen reminded her.

"Pre-commitment, everything is forgiven," Dawson explained. "Post-commitment is entirely different."

"You're hopelessly romantic, Dawson," Andie said.

"Or just plain hopeless," Joey teased. "Tilting at windmills like Don Quixote, madly in love with love."

"Tease all you like," Dawson said good-naturedly. "I think the world needs more romance, not less."

"Well then, you'll be thrilled to know that true romance is coming to Capeside," Jen told him.

Dawson cocked his head at her. "Does an explanation follow that statement?"

"Could be," Jen said. "Joey, do you still have that little portable TV in the kitchen?"

"Yeah, I guess," Joey said. "Why?"

Jen checked her watch. "So that we can watch Dawson's mom on the local evening news in exactly five minutes."

"Gee, Jen, I love my mom, but I really do see plenty of her at home," Dawson said, polishing off another fry.

"It just so happens that I sort of interned for your mom at the TV station today," Jen told him.

"That's great, Jen."

She smiled sheepishly. "Well, you're the one who got me started on this producing thing. Anyway, I was there when she did her remote this afternoon. You really need to see it."

Joey rolled her eyes but got the TV from the kitchen. "This thing is older than I am," she said, plugging it in, "so I have no idea if it still works."

She turned to the right channel, and a shot of Dawson's mom, Gale Leery, filled the screen. She was standing in front of Capeside's modest city hall. Joey turned the sound up.

"I'm here with Marsha O'Brien, director of the Capeside Tourism Bureau," Gale said. She turned to a middle-aged woman in a blue suit. "Marsha, I understand that the city council has exciting news for us."

"That's right, Gale," Marsha said. "We know that Capeside is one of the most romantic locations in America, and now the whole world is going to know about it. I'm pleased to announce the first annual summer Capeside Romance Festival, which will take place the weekend of June twenty-eighth and -ninth."

"Capeside Romance Festival?" Dawson echoed incredulously. "Whose brilliantly tacky concept was that?"

"Shhh," Jen hissed.

"Tell us more," Dawson's mother urged.

"Well, Gale," Marsha gushed, "our slogan is 'Capeside Is Romance.'"

Dawson laughed. "That reeks!"

"There'll be something for everyone," Marsha went on, "including a costume parade of great lovers, with prizes for best costume, and a contest for longest kiss. We're hoping to break the Guinness Book of World Records on that one!"

"Sounds exciting," Gale said.

"Sounds excruciating," Dawson quipped.

"We think so," Marsha agreed. "Many merchants have donated wonderful prizes, and a press release has gone out to travel agents across the country. We don't have a lot of lead time to get the festival together, so we're counting on everyone to pitch in. Remember: Capeside is romance."

Dawson's mom turned to the camera. "There you have it, folks. Romance is coming to Capeside, complete with the world's longest kiss. Back to you in the studio."

Joey clicked off the TV.

Jen looked at her friends. "So?"

"Hey, Capeside is romance," Pacey mocked.

"I think it sounds like fun," Andie decided.

"A romance festival is the opposite of romantic," Dawson said. "I mean, a kissing contest?"

Joey shook her head ruefully. "I ask myself, who would actually come to the Capeside Romance Festival? My mind draws a big, fat blank."

"Oh, I don't know," Jen said. "You guys fail to see Capeside's charm because you grew up here. But I see it."

"Let us know how it goes," Pacey said. "I'm thinking road trip for that weekend."

"Yeah?" Jen asked, all innocence. "Like, you'd never enter, say, the kissing contest, would you?"

"I'll be fishing on the Moose River in Maine," Pacey replied.

"Gee, what a shame," Jen shrugged. "Because the winning kissers get great prizes, like a gift certificate to Filene's department store -- "

"Oh, now that's incentive," Pacey said sarcastically.

" -- and use of a new Viper for one week," Jen added.

Pacey nearly fell off his stool. The Viper was his dream car, and Jen knew it. "Please tell me you aren't just toying with my lust for material objects," Pacey begged.

"It's on the press release," Jen told him. "Longest kissers get a fully loaded Viper to drive for one week. Gas paid."

Pacey's eyes slid over to Andie.

"Oh, no," she declared, folding her arms. "Forget it."

"But we can win," Pacey pleaded. "And I'd get a small taste of my dream vehicle come true."

"Dream on," Andie snorted.

"Hey, how about, like, a check!" the redheaded girl at the table in the back yelled to Joey.

"Hey, how about, like, you're obnoxious," Joey said under her breath, but headed for the table of girls.

"Be sure to invite them to the Romance Festival!" Pacey told Joey as she walked away.

"Actually," Dawson mused, "if the festival is a success, it could mean a lot of business for the Ice House, which would be nice for Bessie and Joey. Other than that, though, the concept is basically deadly."

"You might be interested in this, Dawson," Jen said. "There's also a contest for best short promo video about Capeside. The winning entry will be sent to travel agents all over the country."

He stared at her. "You couldn't possibly think such a thing would actually interest me, Jen."

She reached for his milk shake. "I couldn't?"

"Why would I want to make a commercial travelogue? The idea is repellent."

"Yeah, you're right," Jen agreed. She took a sip of his shake. "It's too bad, though, because the winning video is going to be buried in a special Capeside time capsule that won't be dug up until the new millennium."

"So what?" Dawson said. "That's in a matter of months."

"Oh, this would be the next millennium, Dawson," Jen explained. "You know. The year 2999."

Dawson thought a minute. "Wow. I can't say that idea is entirely without appeal," he admitted.

Jen smiled smugly. "Somehow I thought that's how you'd see it. Do I know my friends or do I know my friends?"

"An artist wants his or her work to live on," Dawson said defensively. "It's like...like creating a child."

"But not nearly as much fun," Pacey pointed out.

Joey tramped over to them and tossed her order to Dawson. "One female infant back there asked me to relay this message to you, Dawson, and I quote: 'You are cute. You have a cute butt. Do you want to party?' End quote."

"Are you serious?" Dawson looked over at the girls, who giggled and waved to him. "That's pathetic."

"I agree," Pacey said. "My butt is much cuter than Dawson's."

Andie punched him in the arm.

The giggling girls came over to them.

"So, did you get my message?" a skinny blond girl asked Dawson as light bounced off the braces in her mouth.

"How old are you, twelve?" he asked.

"Thirteen." She gave him a defiant look. "I...