Speaking of Charlie, he's right in front of them, DJ-ing at the BBC radio station. Jack, lost, has pulled out a map and buried himself in it. Jen, on the other hand, is staring right at Charlie. She suddenly closes her eyes. "Oh my God," she squeals girlishly. "Jack, Jack," she calls, poking the map to get his attention. She doesn't want Charlie to think she's been trying to find him, she tells Jack. Jack points out that she has been trying to find him. As Jen gets ready to explain the concept between seeming cool and uninterested in front of a boy you really like, Charlie looks up and sees her. He waves wildly, grinning. "He's…waving!" Jen squeals, and sort of bounces up and down. "I told you he liked you!" Jack tells her. "How much more of a sign do you need?" On cue, Charlie scribbles something on a piece of orange construction paper, and slaps it against the window. It says, "Get In Here," but he's holding it upside down. Jen and Jack both do the whole head-tilty thing, trying to read the sign. Charlie makes the come-hither finger crook. "Come in," he mouths at Jen. "It's upside down," Jen sighs. "You're going in anyway," Jack says. Okay, I'm in love with Charlie now. Just so you're all aware. I love him. We're in love. And it only took a piece of construction paper and a smile. And the finger crook. I love the finger crook.
Moving right along. I guess Dawson's flying back to Los Angeles on a Monday, since there are people scampering all over the Worthington campus, and Joey has to wait for Professor Wilder to get out of his class, and when I was in school, people spent Sundays sleeping or doing homework. Or, my personal favorite, sleeping on their homework. Anyway, Joey's doing that thing wherein she chases Wilder down the stairs and he talks at her and she makes pained faces. He wonders if Joey can't drop "something useless, like basket-weaving or women's studies." She mutters that she'll "pretend [she] didn't hear that." I don't even know how to react to that comment. Wilder's, not Joey's. Because if he's supposed to be, like, charming and insouciant, all flying in the face of political correctness and acting like some maverick, devil-may-care creative-writing force of nature, that's really not coming through. It's less "insouciant" and more "big irritating tool." So, Joey and Wilder do this walk-and-talk thing while he mutters about how people never drop his class, and that, in fact, people kill to be in his class, and she ought to feel really grateful because she's a freshman and he never lets freshmen in his class, but he let her in his class, because she's special, yada, yada, yada. Joey's like, dude, sign the sheet. But first they need to yammer some more about Joey's Stupid Soulmates Story and how her life is suddenly so much more complicated and she can't handle it. "And what makes you think you can't?" Wilder asks. "Because I'm obviously freaking out," Joey squeals.