Cut to the porch/lawn scene. Dawson opens the front door and slips halfway through it to see Pacey and Joey holding hands; Joey is protesting that she tried to tell Dawson the truth but couldn't bring herself to do it. A shot of Dawson's giant, livid jaw before we hear Pacey's murmured "you failed, right?" line, and Dawson pulls himself together and clomps towards the front of the porch. Fade forward to Pacey apologizing that they didn't want to tell him "this way" and Dawson saying smugly, "You didn't tell me." Joey looks at him, stunned, and says that he knows, doesn't he, and he flaps the nostrils and says yeah, he knows, and Joey looks terrified -- as she should, since Dawson's nose is threatening to block out all the forms of sunlight on which life on this planet depends -- and Dawson asks all sneering if she planned on telling him, "or was this just gonna be a secret fling?" Joey argues that "it's not like that," and Dawson asks what it was like then, "because Jen was a little short on details." "She told you?" Joey gasps, and Dawson shrugs that Jen "thought [he] knew," and his nostrils imitate a bellows as he continues in a quavering voice, "I'd have to be pretty frickin' stupid not to know, right, that the two people I trusted most in the world were lying to me?" Dawson's lips form that self-satisfied butthole shape we've all come to know and despise; then he parts them to ask Joey, "So are you, are you bored, are you confused, or just malicious?" Like anyone cares enough about you to spite you actively, Dawson. I mean, Joey has acted pretty capricious romance-wise over the last two seasons, but coming from Dawson, the criticism really rankles. Joey looks down and shifts from foot to foot, and Pacey steps up to tell Dawson that, if he blames anyone, he should blame Pacey, but Dawson cuts him off: "I don't think you're in any position to talk about what's fair. You were my best friend." Pacey, evenly: "I still am." Dawson finds that "a little hard to process right now," and Pacey tells him softly, "It's the truth, Dawson."
Dawson, still unable to get over his envy of Pacey's superior sexual experience, snaps that apparently Pacey values sex over friendship, but Pacey shoots him down by saying in a fairly condescending tone that "this has nothing to do with sex." Dawson, shooting for "searing contempt" but taking a wrong turn at "wounded ego," whines, "Oh, what, are you in love? Is that what this is?" Joey, looking like she might bolt at any time, is still looking at the ground and rocking herself autistically, and Pacey turns to look at her before he answers, which infuriates Señor Supercuts even more: "Oh God, don't look, don't look at her, all right! Don't --" He stabs a finger in Pacey's direction and snarls, "You know what, Pacey, I feel sorry for you. Because when all this is over, you're really gonna need your friends and you're not gonna have any, you're not gonna have a single one." Um, right -- look who's talking, Foreheady Lamarr. Nostrils knocking Mir out of orbit, mouth rucked up into a livid little anus, Dawson wheels around with his Anthony-Michael-Hall-in-Weird-Science hairdo and starts to snit into the house. Just then, Andie and Will materialize; Andie asks, sort of cringing, "Hey guys, what's goin' on?" Pacey and Joey, holding hands, abruptly stop doing so. Dawson can't wait to rat the two of them out: "Whyn't you ask Pacey? Ask him how long he and Joey have been sneakin' around behind my back -- or better yet, ask Joey! Ask her long she has been lying, to me and to you. Go ahead, ask 'em, 'cause I -- can't stand to look at 'em anymore." The phrase "good riddance to bad rubbish" springs to my mind, but Joey starts crying and puts her hand to her head. Dawson flails inside. I can't believe they don't feel relieved to have rid themselves of his arrogant condescension and whiny-ass, boring pretensions. I really can't believe I'm going to have to sit through this story AGAIN after the commercials.