First day of school, a new school no less, and Pacey was off to a brilliant start. He'd almost made it on time, and he would have had he not gotten so heinously lost. How does one get lost in the teeniest town imaginable? Pacey took a wrong turn and ended up in the middle of the damn desert. Backtracking, he'd finally found his way and ended up at West Roswell High. Stupid directions. Stupid town. Stupid school.

The halls were almost desolate. He made his way to the office and stepped through the doors.

"Good morning, son. You must be Pacey Witter, did you get lost?" The beautiful, brown-skinned woman with thick, black hair smiled at him, opening a large folder and handing him a packet of orientation materials.

"Yes, Ma'am." Pacey returned her smile and turned on all the charm he could possibly muster considering the level of his misery.

She flipped through the paper work in front of her. "So, you're coming to us from all the way in Massachusetts, Pacey. That certainly is a long ways away. When did you arrive in Roswell?"

"We got into town last Monday and we've been unpacking and trying to get settled in. It's been very different, I've never lived anywhere else but capeside. There's no water here..." His voice dropped a decibel as he wistfully thought of home, his old home. Ocean and creek surrounded Capeside, Massachusetts. Roswell seemed merely miles and miles of sand.

"I've never been to the ocean, it must be very beautiful," she looked away from her file and wrote Pacey out a late pass, handing it to him. "Welcome to Roswell High School. You're late for first period, but go and check in nonetheless and have a nice day. I'm sure that you'll fit in perfectly here."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"Good luck," she called as he exited into the hallway.

He was late for history, room 148. He looked down at the map that the secretary had given him among the stack of papers and glanced down the hall again. What is it about schools that says they should all use the same jarring color scheme? You would think that they would want calm, peaceful tones and not this horrific golden yellow and pseudo-wood. Capeside High was exactly the same.

Reaching the classroom, he hesitated a moment before opening the door. The class wasn't too crowded, the teacher sat on the edge of her desk lecturing on, Pacey listened closer, the Battle of Agincourt it sounded like she said. Right: Western History, 1413-1422, Henry V, England; he'd covered it last year and was amazed at the recollection. She caught view of his face at the door, ugh, and waved him inside, looking at her watch with disdain. He approached her slowly.

"Hi... I'm--"

"Pacey Witter, the new sheriff's son, I know. You're late."

"I'm sorry, I got l--" Pacey's eyes were pasted to his shoelaces.

"Fine, take a seat...," she glanced around the classroom, "beside Alex Whitman. Alex, raise your hand, please. Alex will catch you up to where we are, quietly. Thank you, Alex."

Pacey winced and followed her outstretched hand to the empty desk next to Alex. Smiling furtively, Alex showed him the open book turned to page 493. He leaned in to Pacey.

"Don't worry, she's always this bitchy." He stuck his hand out for him,"I'm Alex."

"Hey... Pacey, Pacey Witter. It's nice to meet you." The bell rang, cutting him off mid-sentence.

"What do you have next?"

Pacey shuffled through his stack of papers for the printed schedule, "Ummm... oh, shit. Gym."

"Ahhhh, lucky man, me too. Come on, I'll point you in the right direction."

Pacey shoved his new history book into his knapsack and followed the tall, thin boy into the hallway. They made polite conversation.

"So, where you from, dude?"

"Capeside, Massachusetts... it's pretty different from here..." He looked around him at the throngs of students filling the hallway.

"I'm sure, and it's got to be bigger." Alex seemed like a decent guy, a bit nerdy with a really lame haircut, but a nice guy. And who the hell was Pacey to talk anyway? He'd made Pacey feel comfortable almost immediately. Pushing through a set of double doors, they entered the gym. Alex led them into the locker room.

"Voila! The gymnasium. I'm sure it enthralls a big city man like yourself."

Pacey laughed, "You're severely over-estimating the breadth and depth of Capeside. It's almost as small as this place. Anyway, I'm not prepared for a gym vlass today, so I guess I'll see you out there. Thanks, man."

"Cool. See ya." Alex went towards the lockers and Pacey receded into the gym again, his eyes searching out the instructor. He wasn't a hard man to find, of course, who else could the stocky man in sweats with a whistle be? Pacey walked over slowly, stopping just behind another student who seemed to need the man's attention. Eventually, the coach waved him over and Pacey started the now familiar introduction.

"Hi, I'm Pacey Witter."

"The gym teacher held out his hand, "Hey... The New Kid. How's it going so far? You should be suited up for class, shouldn't you?" He looked at Pacey's street clothes and non-gym shoes.

"I'm sorry, I'm not prepared for gym today, I didn't think to bring clothes..." Pacey was determined to get off on a good foot in this school. No one knew him, and if he had to be here, then he might as well reinvent himself. He could be anyone he desired; prepared student, teacher's pet, jock, what have you. He didn't have to be the loser son of the Capeside Police Chief anymore. His reputation had not preceded him.

"That's all right, son. You can sit it out on the bleachers today, but tomorrow, I want to see you in gym clothes and proper sneakers." He looked at Pacey with a sidelong glance, "So... you play football, basketball, baseball?"

"Ummm... unfortunately I've never done the team sports thing. I play a bit of basketball, but nothing to write home about."

"That's too bad. I was really hoping that we'd pulled in a ringer." The students began filing in from the locker room and Pacey headed off for the sidelines reclining into the bleachers. Moments later as he watched the class go into action, another student entered the gym from the hallway, argued with the teacher and was sent to the bleachers with Pacey. The boy sat in a huff and leaned back on his elbows.

"Hey.." Pacey extended his open hand. "Pacey Witter, I'm new here..." The spikey-haired boy looked through him, slumping further in his seat and ignoring him. Pacey shook his head and rescinded the proffered handshake. Maybe not everyone in this stupid town was friendly. Whatever. Sifting through his papers, he attempted to seem occupied while everyone else did gym things. The period moved at a tortoise pace, an increasingly neurotic Pacey shuffling through papers and digging through his bookbag for things that didn't exist. Finally, the bell rang. Two more classes to get through before lunch, then three more before this travesty of a day would be over. Man, did he want it over.

Knowing that he would be "the new guy" for a while wasn't helping at all. There was a certain amount of comforting anonymity that the position lacked. And although Pacey had certainly never been one to fade into the shadows, he didn't like feeling stared at and wondered about. It made him feel like a slab of beef waiting for USDA approval. Plus, there was the fact that he was the son of the new sheriff in town. A position that he was sure would keep some people at bay until they'd decided he wasn't some narc.

Physics. He approached the teacher and introduced himself for the umpteenth time that day. This would also be something that he wouldn't miss once the day was over. That feeling of being scrutinized by every instructor, weighed by appearance and so-called permanent record, he hated it. And he wondered how much they all knew. She directed him towards a lab table in the back and handed him a textbook, by the end of the day, his bag was going to get unmanageable. Pacey never carried this many books that were his own.

He quietly took his seat as the second bell rang. This sucked, he should be back in Capeside High right now, the day mostly over, instead of sitting by himself, knowing just about nobody in this damn place, wishing he were home.

He looked around the room, half in a daydream. At least there were some hot chicks at this school. That one, the one at the front table with her books already open and her lab equipment spread out on the table in front of her, the one with the dark brown, silky hair, she could almost remind him of Joey if he squinted his eyes. That same innocent and intense expression and perfect lips, that same academic confidence that she exuded from her pores. Yeah, she was cute, kinda like Jo except shorter. And different.

There was no shortage of cheerleader types either, the perky, pretty girls that he loved to look at but could never get a hold of back home. The Christy Livingstones, oh how he loved the Christies. Well, maybe that would change now that no one knew him, maybe he could finally be the stud he'd always fancied himself to be. Hey, could happen. He smiled over at a gorgeous, tall blonde across the room and she passed her fingers through her thick hair. It could almost be considered a flirty move, definitely sexy. Yeah, he thought to himself, if I have to be here, I might as well take advantage of every opportunity. Make the best of a bad situation.

He'd made it through the morning basically without incident or event, now to deal with lunch. He grabbed some food from the counter and walked outside to the quad, suddenly losing interest in the food on his blue tray. Any appetite he'd thought he'd had was sucked away by the anxiety of having to deal with the lunch crowd. Friendships had probably been solidified by the time these kids were in fifth grade and there was a good chance that he wouldn't be welcomed into any of their cliques. Standing at the edge of the grass, he scoped out for an empty table or someplace, or whatever.

It was like a teen television drama, this. This vibe of standing in the middle of the banks of tables, suddenly seen in complete fisheye from a low camera angle, cue ominous background music, looking expectantly into a crowd of people that he didn't know and feeling their judging eyes evaluating him. Pacey had never given a shit about appearances or public opinion, at least on the surface. Deep down he wanted everyone to like him, to love him, to want to be him, or at least to entertain them for a minute. At this juncture, he needed public opinion though. He tugged nervously at the hem of his Hawaiian shirt, wishing for a moment that he hadn't worn something so distinctly Pacey, wishing he had worn something to help him fade into the background, rather than stand in the middle of this cliched 90210 moment. The people he passed, walking towards his mecca table, melted in a blur of molasses slow-motion, his own anxiety droning heatedly in his eardrums. Over it, he somehow heard his own name.

"Pacey! Hey!" He turned towards the voice and the world around him sped up again. "Hey, you wanna join us?"

Alex Whitman pointed to the empty space of lunch table opposite him. Without thinking, or paying any attention to the disbelieving looks of his compatriots, he agreed and sat.

"Pacey... Uhhhh... Witter, right? This is Liz Parker, Isabel and Max Evans, and... Michael Guerin."

Pacey smiled genuinely at them, "Hey, nice to meet you..."

"Pacey's from the East coast. Massachusetts, right? So how're you fitting in so far?"

Pacey weighed the question. How was he fitting in so far? There was no easy answer to that one. He missed home and was pretty sure that this odd place, smack dab in the middle of Bumfuck, Egypt, was never going to feel like home. No matter how much effort he put into it, or how nice people wanted to be to him. "Ehhhh... all right, I guess. The whole experience has definitely been weirder than I had expected."

"It's always weird trying to fit in someplace new, especially when you're not from around here." Isabel Evans smiled at him, flipping her hair over a shoulder. The pretty girl from Physics. The other one, the one who had reminded him of Joey, sat beside him, not really reminding him of her from up close. Her expression was too... guarded maybe. Her mouth hung open and she looked abruptly concerned.

"Where are you from?" He asked Isabel.

"Oh! I didn't mean it like that. Max and I grew up here." Her brother looked at her incredulously, and the spikey-haired cocksucker from gym shot her an icy glare. Whatever. There was something really wrong with these people. Pacey ignored them, maybe he was being too judgmental himself, attributing his own anxiety to the people around him.

"Move over, Alex." Another unbelievably sexy blonde approached the table, bumping Alex in the shoulder with her silver, vinyl-clad hip. She opened her mouth to speak, closing it quickly as she noticed Pacey's eyes boring into her. Alex's girlfriend? He hoped not. What was up with the girls at this school? Was there an ugly one among them? Must be something in the water.

"Maria!" Alex shoved over to make room for her. "This is the new kid, Pacey. Pacey, Maria DeLuca. Don't mind her, she's always wandering around with her mouth hanging open." Alex stole a fry off her plate and she smacked his hand away.

"Hey, you're the new Sheriff's kid, huh?"

"Yeah... We just moved here last week, I only just found out we were moving about two weeks ago. How much does that suck?"

"Man, that blows! But, I guess considering the circumstances, we needed a replacement law enforcement officer kinda suddenly."

"Considering the circumstances?" Everyone at the table looked at Maria with widened eyes. She made a face at Liz and began her answer.

"Yeah... well... the last Sheriff was killed, like, three weeks ago. I figured you knew the story since your dad replaced him." More disbelieving looks from the peanut gallery.

"My father doesn't exactly hand out a lot of information. About anything. So what's the dirt? How did it happen?" Morbid curiosity had kicked in.

Liz Parker's soft voice took over. She placed her hand on top of Max's and the Guerin kid glared, it seemed his only expression. The former Sheriff's name was Valenti and he had apparently died of unexplained circumstances at the mouth of a cave in the woods. They have woods here? Some speculation said he'd been struck by a freak bolt of lightening and his heart had just stopped. Only problem was, it hadn't been storming at the time, it had been a clear night. They found his body days after he'd died, after much searching. Liz told the story with a grand flourish, like someone would spin a ghost story.

"There are some people who say it was..." Her voice dropped to a dramatic whisper and she looked around her mock-suspiciously, "...the aliens that got him."

"Yeah, right..." Pacey practically spit the Pepsi he was drinking, "Like there are really aliens. People here don't honestly believe that shit, do they?"

"There are no such things as aliens, Liz." Michael said snidely, standing and leaving the table in a huff. Pacey looked to Alex. Alex said nothing. Isabel seemed about to leap out of her skin, Max put a reassuring hand on her back.

"I'll go talk to him, Izzy. Sorry, Pacey... Michael's temperamental at times, it's really been nice to meet you..."

It was a bizarre crowd. Three beautiful women, a geek, the calmest guy Pacey had ever met, and an asshole who, for whatever reason, really seemed to get Pacey's blood riled. Somehow, Pacey felt like he recognized "his people" in them.

Isabel leaned across the table towards him, her wrists crossed in front of her and her blonde hair falling over her arms. There was no mistaking it -- she was definitely flirting with him. A little more of this and he might have to become cocky.

"So...," she said huskily, "What do you think of Roswell so far? Pretty devastating, huh?" Her button down shirt was open to the third hole and when she leaned in like that, her breasts pushed together and swelled from the top of her bra. Damn.

Pacey hoped that there wasn't a puddle of drool collecting on his lunch tray. His head began to nod absently and he stopped himself, shaking himself out of the transfixed stupor. This one had an innate talent, man... He looked up at her, regaining his composure, and cocked his head.

"I haven't seen much yet, but I'll get back to you on that as soon as I have." He leaned back on his hands and smiled at her.

Whitman cut in, breaking the thick heat between them. "Liz? do you have the Spanish homework? I wanna compare, I think I did it all wrong..."

"You mean you want to grift mine, right?" She said with a grin, glancing back towards her preoccupation near the trees at the edge of the quad. The oddly soft-spoken Max stood half-arguing with the prick. They all seemed preoccupied with the drama over there. Mental note: dark-haired one: taken. Blonde with the blow-job lips: infatuated, but seemingly available. Isabel: super-fine, super-forward, could be trouble.

As the day went, the bell rang and he checked his class list. Off to English. He bid the group adieu and lifted his tray to dispose of the half-eaten detritus and felt a soft hand on his arm. He gave a start, turning towards the touch and grinned at her.

"Which way are you walking, Pacey?" Isabel Evans looked up through her eyelashes at him, standing impossibly close. He felt Whitman's eyes on them.

"Towards English, whichever direction that is. Maybe you can show me? I seem to get so lost around here..." If she was going to put on the moves, then the least he could do was return the favor. The tone in his voice was innocent and teasing. Pacey didn't know what he'd done to deserve this good luck, but he might have to get down on his knees and thank someone for this streak.

"Mmmmm... unfortunately I'm not going anywhere near that side of the campus. Maybe next time..." She flipped her hair in that signature move with a perfectly manicured hand, "Bye, Pacey..." Her husky voice rolled around his name and her lips curled up just slightly. He watched her walk away from him, her long strides and the shake in her hips. What was the word she had used? Devastating? Yeah... devastating.

Pacey went to the rest of his classes, bored to tears by the repetition of each introduction. He made acquaintances, no one that he could really see spending any quality time with. Maria was in his French class and she'd been extremely nice to him. High-strung, but fine. Those lips gave him carnal thoughts he tried to push out of his mind before the bell rang and he'd have to stand up.

Nothing but sex swept through his mind lately. Lately? Nah, that was a complete lie. It had always been that way, for years now. Just that there had been other stuff to think about as well. Without his real friends around to keep his mind occupied, idle thoughts turned to sex. Well, it was better than thinking about all of the things that sucked about this place and how long it would be before he saw them again.

On his way from the building after school, he felt the tiniest twang of loneliness, like he should be doing something else in that moment. Something specific. Places to go, people to see kinds of things, rather than going back to his still half-packed house and sitting alone in his room that didn't feel his. His best friend was becoming the Playstation and the porno mag. His jeep stood parked on the far end of the lot, alone like he was.

"Liz couldn't handle Kyle, Michael, and I'm not going to go through that again. You can't "take care" of everything... so I'm keeping my eyes on this one."

Pacey looked towards the hushed voices behind the tree on his left. Isabel Evans stood arguing with the one who obviously thrived on argument.

"Watch yourself, Isabel. I don't like this at all." Pacey eyed them as he passed and Guerin's eyes widened. Isabel turned towards his gaze, looking straight towards Pacey and smiling with all the sweetness she could muster.

"Don't worry so much, Michael." She said over her shoulder, approaching Pacey. "how about a ride home, Pacey?"

What was it he was supposed to be doing after school? Right, nothing. "Sure... come on, I'm parked right over there." He chivalrously took her books from her arms and led her towards the car, Michael's angry stare following them through the lot.

The CD player blasted heavy raging music and her thick, blonde hair whipped in the open air. It was too loud to speak, which might have been a good thing, since Pacey felt on the verge of saying something stupid every time he looked at her. He met her eyes every few minutes then returned them to the open road ahead.

"Take the next left, " she yelled over the wailing bass.

"Huh?" Pacey reached for the knob and lowered the volume.

"The next left, take it."

"Wow. You live pretty far from school," he noticed.

"You're not taking me home yet, I'm taking you sight seeing." Isabel smiled again. She had this amazing mouth with these perfectly formed white teeth that seemed to sparkle between heavily glossed lips. It was probably a little too early to just lean over and kiss her, but the thought crossed his mind more than once. The way that she let her hair stick to her lip gloss and the way her eyes gleamed in his peripheral vision was enough to kill any seventeen year old dead. Pacey had always been a sucker for a beautiful girl.

"So, where are we going?"

"There's a reservoir back here. It's an amazing place, I don't think there's anyplace like it on the planet... But you haven't told me what it's like in your home town..."

They pulled into a wide open stretch of amber desert surrounded by monoliths and Pacey cut the engine. The afternoon sun beat down on his arms and neck. Without the air of the road to cool him down, the sweat pricked up in beads on his forehead.

He walked to the edge of the pool, cut from the rock and shining blue green. "Wow. Nothing like this..." It took his breath away.

She nodded and sat in the hard sand, stripping to a tank top and pulling her hair into a loose ponytail off of her face. Pacey's breath, stolen again. "Awe inspiring...," he said in almost a whisper. She tapped the spot in front of her.

"Come. Sit down, tell me something about yourself."

He complied. What else could he possibly do?

"Not much to say, really. I'm just your average high school senior forced to move twenty-five hundred miles across the country, away from his friends and loved ones, to a strange new land filled with complex mystery and all this sand. And what about you? Are you always this nice to "the new guy"?" His voice was lighthearted, he meant no offense.

"To be honest, we get a lot of tourists out here, but it's a very rare treat to actually get an honest to god new resident in Roswell."

Pacey gave her his partial life history, purposely leaving out any key details that might serve to lessen his worth in her beautiful eyes. No tales of Tamara and the sophomore year tryst of theirs. No tales of Andie and her stint in the nuthouse. No drawn out sagas of his failure at just about everything. She told him next to nothing about herself, all obvious chit chat lacking any meat. She seemed strangely guarded, Pacey thought for a moment before pushing it aside and concentrating on her movements rather than her words. Damn sexy.

After a couple of hours of idle chatter and staring at the water, she checked her watch. "I have to be home for dinner soon. Do you mind giving me that ride now?"

"Come on." Pacey stood and held out his hand for her, pulling her up to her feet. "Thanks for bringing me here, Isabel, it's really sweet of you. I've been really unsure of everything since we left Capeside, and your being so nice to me has made me feel worlds better." He didn't drop her hand and she made no move to pull away, maybe he should go in for that kiss now. Her face was turned up towards the sun and her eyes were halfway closed with a faraway look in them, almost entranced. Finally, she looked back at him and a smile crept across her lips.

"Anytime." She allowed his hand to drop and walked towards the car. Pacey kicked himself for letting the opportunity go to waste, but figured there was more than enough time to pursue her later. Besides, why get caught up in one girl when there was a whole school of them he hadn't explored yet?

"What?" There was a curious smile on her face.

"What what?"

"What's the face for? What's so funny?" He looked at her playfully, wondering what could possibly be going through that mind of hers, clueless as to what it could honestly be.

"Nothing... I was just... thinking about how much I love it here," she lied.

"It is... it's gorgeous." And so are you went through his mind, but he decided to leave it out. Better to play it cool rather than tip his hand to her so quickly. Playing hard to get seemed to be what girls reacted to best. Besides, she might have been just being nice to him, there was that chance. It was slim, but it was there. Capeside's Pacey Witter would have been already scheming up ways to jump her bones. And he still was, not so deep inside his brain. Roswell's Pacey decided to keep it cool. Let someone chase him for a change. She directed him back through town and towards her house and he kissed her on the cheek when they arrived.

What was that old saying? If you set something free, or something? Yeah... he'd play his cards differently here, it was a brand spankin' new deck.

The phone rang six times before a tired voice picked it up.

"Uhhhh... hello?"

"Jo? It's me... Did I wake you?"

Pacey! Duh... it's after midnight. Time difference, Einstein."

"Shit, I forgot... I'm sorry, I just wanted to talk, nothing important. I'll call you tomorrow."

He made to hang up, but she interjected. "You've woken me already, so you might as well keep me up too. How was the first day of school? Did you bring all of your teachers apples and behave, like a good boy?"

"Yes, Miss Potter. It was weird, but all right, I guess."

"Well, that sounds hopeful... what's it like?"

"Just like any other school, I suppose. Same stupid, yellow lockers, lunch at picnic tables outside. It's hot as hell here though, I'm going to have to adjust my wardrobe."

"I'm sure, I mean, you are in the middle of the desert. capeside must feel a million miles away..." Her voice fell, "We miss you, Pacey. Nothing's the same. Today, at lunch, Dawson was bickering with Andie about something stupid that you would have had some crazy opinion about, and all I wanted to do was hear your reaction..."

"I miss you, too..." He looked over at the framed photographs on his desk. One, taken when Dawson was filming his "award-winning horror film", showed the three of them smiling. Pacey wore that accursed sea monster suit and Dawson held his camcorder. Joey stood between them, then boyish in a tank top and shorts, legs up to her arm-pits. Still, sexy as hell. They just hadn't really noticed it yet.

"So? Make any new friends yet? Pick up any hot cheerleaders and nail them behind the bleachers?"

"Josephine Potter! I'm ashamed of you! Get your filthy mind out of the gutter! For Christ's sake, today was only the first day of school. That's pencilled in tomorrow's schedule. First, I have to find the bleachers..." They both laughed. "Actually, there are some okay people in my classes, I met some interesting ones. This one chick took me sightseeing after school."

"A chick took you sightseeing? You had her in your car and you didn't Nail her? Pacey, I'm disappointed in you."

"Is "nail" the word of the day, Potter?"

She guffawed.

"Is that a note of jealousy I hear hidden behind your sarcasm? Why, Joey... I never knew you cared!" Pacey mocked back at her.

"Wishful thinking... But seriously, it's all right, then? I mean, you think you'll fit in okay and you're already dating..."

"Yeah, this one guy in my first two classes introduced me to a few of his friends, so the lunch break wasn't as traumatic as it could have been. And no, I'm not dating already, we just drove out to the reservoir for a few hours. You're not really jealous, are you?"

Nah, Pacey... not really. We'll always be close friends, you and I. But, if I allow myself to wax nostalgic for a moment, I do wish that we had figured out how, uh..., compatible we were a little earlier on, that would have been nice too. But I've got a date myself this weekend, so there."

"Anyone I know?"

"Nope. New guy in the kitchen. he seems like an all right guy. Very attentive."

"Well, if he touches you, you do realize that I'm going to have to drive back to Capeside and whip his ass, right?"

"I wish you could... and this girl -- what's her name, anyway?"

"Isabel."

"Isabel. Pretty... So if this Isabel withholds the goods, I'll have to fly out there and pressure some sense into her." She laughed.

"Yeah, well, I don't think it'll get that far, really. She's kind of... I don't know, maybe a little fake. Don't get me wrong, she's a hottie... but I'm not sure she's what I'm looking for. Anyway, Potter... you have to go back to bed... sleep tight."

"'Night."

He hung up the telephone and picked up another photograph from his desk, propping it against his lamp on the nightstand. He and Joey, taken by her sister as they sat across a picnic table arguing. It was by far his favorite.