(Pacey is sitting on a bench at the pier by himself. Joey walks up.)
Joey:
Hey, Jailbait.
Pacey: Feel free to keep on walking. I won't think your rude.
Joey: Look, dispite first
impressions, I'm not here to bust on you. I don't know if the rumors are
true or exaggerated. Or if this is one
of your bizarre attempts to appear
more attractive to the senior girls. But I just wanted to say, I know what
you must be going through, and...
(Pacey
laughs.)
Pacey: No. I really doubt you know what I'm going through.
Joey: Well, let me see. People stare at you when you walk down the hall, we've seen that. They whipser behind your back. You suddenly overhear your name in a conversation of strangers, and pretty soon a justifyable paranioa sets in and whether they are are or not, you are convinced that everyone is talking about you. Imagine if you had done something even worse.
Pacey:
Like what?
Joey: Like sharing a house with your pregnant unwed sister and her black boyfriend, while your father serves time on a drug conviction. Imagine that, Pacey. We actually have something in common...Providing gossip for the small-minded townsfolk. And unfortunately for you. You're tonight's top story.
Pacey: Great. So, what do I do now?
Joey: Same thing I did...You pray like hell for a better story to come along.