Yellow-green hills dotted with red clay roofed buildings passed by rapidly as Pam stared out the window of the charter bus that she and her classmates were taking to Rome. It was Friday, her 12th day in Italy, and about eight days before Jim and Lisa's wedding, not that Pam was keeping track. The second week of the program had been much less hectic than the first, either that or Pam had simply gotten used to the pace.

Occasionally the Italian landscape along the highway looked somewhat similar to the hills around Scranton, and Pam would find herself thinking about what she was going to do when she returned home in just over two weeks, and wondered if she made too rash of a decision quitting her job at Dunder-Mifflin. What exactly did she think Jim's wedding was going to change anyway? He had always been with Lisa, always been off-limits to her. All the wedding was really going to do was make Pam's chances of being with Jim just a little more remote than they already were. Maybe it was what Pam needed, maybe if that little flicker of hope for something more with Jim was fully extinguished, they could truly and honestly be friends.

She listened passively as her classmates were clamoring about the Renaissance art history test they had taken earlier in the day. When asked how she thought she did, Pam modestly said "Okay" though she was confident she had received a high score. As the sun started to disappear behind the hills and ceramic roofs, the conversation began to get a little more personal and the girls around her talked about roommates and boyfriends and such.

Pam reflected on how she didn't have many friends. One would have thought that living in the town where she grew up would mean she had some friends nearby, but most of her high school friends had made good on their pledges to "get the hell outta Scranton" after they graduated, and the handful of friends she made at Marywood University quickly fell out of touch with her after she dropped out at the end of her sophomore year.

Kelly was kind of her friend, Pam supposed. They would hang out, drink some wine and watched romantic comedies once in a while. Kelly was actually significantly mellower and therefore much more tolerable with a glass or two of wine in her. But Pam had avoided her recently since all Kelly wanted to talk about was Ryan and Pam had run out of nice ways to tell Kelly she should drop him. Besides, all Pam was thinking about was Jim.

The most social Pam had been in recent memory was last summer. Jim and Lisa had moved into a house and hosted a handful of barbecues. They had been engaged since the beginning of the year so by the time Memorial Day rolled around the sadness has worn off a bit for Pam and things were pretty much back to normal. Jim would also invite Toby and Kevin, but they were often preoccupied so usually Pam was the only one there from work. She was always a little thrilled when Jim would introduce her as "my friend, Pam" or, even better, just "Pam", rather than "my coworker, Pam".

She liked Jim-the-Host, he was good coordinating different party games and make sure everyone felt included. Lisa gravitated to more competitive games and Pam couldn't help but notice any time there were teams Lisa would always be on an opposing team to Jim, and always be extra celebratory when her team won over his. Pam much preferred to get grouped with Jim, to hear him say "Great job, Pam!" and give her a high five with a brilliant smile on his face. Also they were a pretty unstoppable pair at Charades and Pictionary.

There was a rare occasion towards the end of August last year where Lisa was out of town at a seminar and Jim decided to host a barbecue solo. When Jim was seeing his ex-roommate Mark and his girlfriend to the door, Pam looked around and realized she was the only guest left. Jim walked into the kitchen, peeked in the refrigerator and commented that it was good the party ended early since he only had two beers left. Pam was about to stand and say she should get going when he walked in with a bottle in each hand and asked if she wanted to go to the patio and help him finish the beer off. She accepted.

They sat in lawn chairs, gazing at the stars and comparing their childhood memories of summers in Scranton. Jim asked her about the time she spent face-painting at the Lackawanna County Fair, and Pam couldn't help but blush at him recalling something she mentioned offhandedly months ago. It was the salesman in him, she reminded herself. She always heard him mention some personal detail when he was on a call; asking how a client's golf game was coming or how their kids were doing in school. Still, she dared to hope he remembered the small things about her because he genuinely was interested.

They talked about their dreams. Jim confessed his childhood dream was to play for the 76ers but of course as a teenager he had get real about the chances of that ever happening. He wouldn't mind coaching youth basketball or something someday, "Maybe when I have kids," he said. Pam smiled, briefly debating if she wanted to tell him he would be a great dad before deciding it would sound too cheesy. Instead, she started talking about how she took on extra shifts at the smoothie stand in the mall so she could get the money for application fees and color copies of her art portfolio, but every art and design college she applied to either turned her down or offered her admission with no scholarship, and she just sort of gave up on her art aspirations. She was ready for the usual lecture, for Jim to tell her to just take out loans and sign up for the classes she wants and follow her dreams. But he sipped on his beer and listened to the sound of the crickets dotted throughout his yard. He didn't judge her; she appreciated it.

"I can't believe I've been at Dunder-Mifflin for over two years," Pam lamented quietly.

Jim chuckled, "Wait 'til it's been over four years. You'll just be in a constant state of disbelief."

Pam laughed and started to peel the label off of her bottle. "I just, I sometimes feel so stuck. Like I'm in quicksand and the more I struggle to get out the faster it will suck me in, so I might as well just relax."

Jim nodded, "You should draw that."

"What?"

"Draw a cartoon showing how far in the Dunder-Mifflin quagmire everyone is."

Pam giggled, "Well, let's see, I think Michael and Dwight are completely engulfed-"

"You're right about Michael, but you better keep one defiant Schrute hand above the surface," Jim interjected.

"And I'll be in about waist deep, so it looks like I have hope of getting out, but really I don't."

Jim laughed softly and looked over at Pam. "Well, if it's any consolation at all, I'm happy you're there."

Pam brushed over Jim's sentiment and tried to keep the mood light, "Eh, give it another year and I'll be as crazy as the rest of them."

"I mean it, Pam." Pam felt a lump in her throat as she searched his face for a hint of jest; a sign he would break into a smile. But he was as serious as she's ever seen him. "The only thing about work I genuinely look forward to is hanging out with you."

Pam waited for a second, for him to add some kind of addendum to that statement, like "and of course I look forward to pranking Dwight" or "plus I look forward to 5 o'clock so I can leave". But the witty retort didn't come; he just stared at her, the lights from the house softly illuminating the right side of his face.

Pam felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth and nodded slightly. "Me too."

They held eye contact for an indeterminable amount of time before Jim's breath quickened. He tried to pass it off as a chuckle, and turned his head back to the brown bottle in his hands. Pam resumed peeling off the beer label, occasionally closing her eyes and focusing on the sound of the bugs chirping around her and beer sloshing in Jim's bottle whenever he took a sip. She tried remember if there was another time in her life she felt like this; so warm and peaceful and content. She determined there wasn't.

"So what do you think of that, Pam?"

Pam's eyes popped open and it took a few seconds to regain her bearings and remember where she was. She looked to her left and saw Cari and a few other faces looking at her. "Think of what?"

"When we get to Rome and get checked in, we should go to a club and find some cute Italian guys," Cari said with a smirk.

"Or at least some reasonably-cute tourists who think the clubs are the best place to meet Italian women," said Nicole, an NYU student with sparkly dark eyes.

Pam started to shake her head, "I don't know, I think I'm going to be pretty exhausted when we get there."

Amanda, a red head from Boston College, spoke up. "What, do you have a guy at home?"

For half a second Pam considered lying. It would be so easy to say she did have a guy; she certainly could give an in-depth description of his hazel eyes and floppy hair and how his smile warmed her to the core. In two weeks she would part ways with all these girls, probably never see them again. It would be so easy to pretend…

"No," Pam finally answered bashfully.

"Then you should come out! It'll be fun," Cari insisted.

A feeling of homesickness hit Pam in the gut, and she suddenly and very intensely wished she was back in Scranton. She wanted to see the familiar brick buildings, white wash houses, and rusted trucks. She wanted to smell the smoke of barbecues wafting through the summer air. She wanted to be on a patio having a beer and listening to the crickets.

"Maybe," she said to Cari. Satisfied with that, Cari turned her attention back to Amanda and Nicole, and Pam rested her forehead on the window.

Night had fallen when they reached Rome, and Pam just wanted to crawl into a bed. There was two and a half days of solid sightseeing ahead of her, and clubbing was even less appealing now than it was an hour ago when Cari mentioned it. The hotel that the students were staying had booked too few rooms, so as Pam's instructor was trying to straighten things out with the maitre d', Pam noticed there were a few computers for hotel guests on the other side of the lobby. She walked over and pulled up a browser window to quickly check her email.

There were only a handful of messages; a few email offers and short messages from her parents and her sister hoping she was having a good time. Before she could get too upset that none of her co-workers had emailed her, Pam remembered they probably were using her company email, which she hadn't check since her last day at Dunder-Mifflin. She pulled up the Dunder-Mifflin employee page and typed in her username, wondering if her email account was still in service.

The inbox came up and she was happy to see there were 20 new messages. Most of the subject lines were along the lines of "Have fun in Italy", along with one that said "Need some numbers from you" which was not surprisingly from Angela. There were also a few emails from Michael with subject lines like "Where is this?" and "How do you do that?". But one email stood out due to the all-caps subject and several exclamation points. Pam clicked on it.

From: kellykapoor@dundermifflin.com

Date: May 29, 2006 4:37 PM

Subject: YOU WONT BELIEVE THIS!

Pam –

Jim just announced that the wedding is canceled! Didn't say why, will email you if I find out more.

~Kelly

Pam's mouth went dry and her vision blurred and for some reason she quickly clicked "Refresh." When the page reloaded, and the message said the same thing it had just a second before, Pam tried to catch her breath. She went back to her inbox, scanning the emails, wondering if perhaps he had sent something. Nothing.

She vaguely heard her instructor call her name to tell her the rooms were ready. Pam's hand moved on its own accord as she logged out of the email and closed the browser window. She felt like she was in a haze following Cari to the room that wasn't much bigger than their dorm back in Florence, though it was certainly better decorated. Cari immediately started searching her luggage for something small and sexy to wear out, and Pam grabbed her toiletry bag to head to the bathroom down the hall.

"Hey, Cari, you guys should just go out without me. I think the bus ride did me in."

"That driver was ridiculous, wasn't he?" Cari exclaimed. "I hope you feel better soon."

Pam turned her face to the door so Cari wouldn't see the tears in her eyes. "I do too."