Out on the sidewalk, Pacey "Blue Hawaii" Witter complains, "This town is sorely lacking in post-meridian activities." Joey "On A Cleeeeeear Day, You Can See My Baaaaaackbone" Potter suggests doing "a Bonnie and Clyde," which would solve their two biggest problems, "money and boredom." Pacey seizes on the idea and rambles on about wearing a fedora and taking pictures with a box camera and yadda yadda, and as he talks, Joey pauses in front of The Only Record Store and looks through the window at Dawson and Gretchen dorking out in a listening booth. Pacey asks if she wants to go in; unconvincingly, she says, "Naaaah, not right now," and leads him away.
Over at The McPhee Institute For Cryogenic Reanimation Research, formerly known as "McPhee Manor," Mr. "Dead And Angry About It" McPhee takes out his Harvard letter sweater, saying that his father gave it to him when he got into Harvard, and Angry saved the sweater, hoping for this very moment. "You look perfect in it," he tells Andie delightedly. "Daddy, I'm not perfect, not by a long shot," she reminds him. Behind her, Jack rolls his eyes and imitates their father in a lockjaw accent: "You know, Andie, wearing the Crimson signifies excellence. In fact, I remember when the boys and I first got to the Yard…" All three of them break up laughing, and Angry starts enthusing about the course book, and seeing what "warhorses are lecturing this fall," and the summer session, and Jack has to bring him back down to earth. Angry admits that he's "getting ahead of" himself, but says that it's the greatest moment of Andie's life: "I've never been more proud of you than I am right now." He hugs her and gives her a kiss on the head. Aw. I remember when I got into Princeton.
I grabbed the envelope from my mother and ran upstairs and turned on Beethoven really loud so my parents couldn't hear anything in case I didn't get in and had to start crying and feeling sorry for myself, and I crawled under my bed and ripped open the envelope, and the letter said, "Yes!" (literally. That's the first word of the Princeton acceptance letter. Nice of them to cut to the chase, I thought) and I started shrieking for joy because I never thought I'd get in, but nobody could hear me what with the Fifth Symphony thundering away, and I'd gotten stuck under the bed as well, but I finally wriggled out and ran downstairs all covered with dust bunnies, and there's my dad pacing the floor in the front hall, and I jumped off the steps and into his arms and yelled, "I got in! I got in! Suckers let me in! Whee!" and my dad told me that he loved me and that I'd made him very proud, and because my dad doesn't say that stuff easily at all, preferring instead to express his feelings in impressionistic little ways like taking my car to the car wash before I come home for the weekend, I've always treasured that moment.