While the pancakes had been nice at the time, Pam regretted her decision to eat rather than sleep at about ten o’clock, as she could barely keep her head up as Jan droned on about “Women in the Workplace”. She tried not to look too out of it, and resisted resting her head on her hand.

When Michael announced the guys were heading the warehouse, she immediately perked up. Nothing was going on with Jim; this wasn’t about Jim, but she knew that the whole building, practically, was aware of Jim’s “crush”, and even if Roy didn’t know, she didn’t want them together. It would… well, it just wouldn’t be good.

“Uh, would you excuse me?” she asked, not waiting for a response before getting up and following the group.

“Hey, Jim” she said, trying to catch him alone.

“What’s up?” he replied, staying behind. Kevin turned and gave her an unsettling smirk, but she otherwise went unnoticed.

“I don’t know if Roy’s going to be down there or whatever, but I haven’t told him that I’m staying with you and he’s already accused me of seeing someone else, so just, don’t mention it, okay? I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

“Yeah,” he replied, and she thought she heard a hint of sadness in his voice. “No, I won’t mention it.”

“Thanks. And I’m going to tell him, just—not now.”

“Okay. No problem, Beesly.” He gave her an affectionate smile, although he seemed apprehensive. “I’ll see ya,” he added, and then he disappeared around the corner.

Pam still felt uneasy as she made her way back to the conference room, offering a meek apology as she sunk back into her seat. Jan was going on about where they saw themselves in five years; what they wanted to be doing; and Pam immediately panicked. She didn’t know anymore; didn’t have a plan. She realized she didn’t have to settle into domesticity in Scranton; she could go back to school, get a job in another town, or do whatever she wanted. The thought was as thrilling as it was terrifying.

She was so lost in contemplation that she didn’t hear Jan address her. “Pam? I asked you where you saw yourself in five years.”

“Oh!” she responded quickly. “Sorry, um, I was just thinking about that. I don’t really know. For a long time I saw myself as married, maybe doing a little graphic design on the side. But since that’s over, I’m not sure. I guess I have a lot of possibilities. I’d still like to get married, I think, but I don’t know if I want to stay in Scranton. And I love to draw. I did a little in college, and I’d love to do something with art or graphic design.”

She watched Jan brighten, and explain that there was a graphic design program with corporate.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she replied timidly. “I have a job here already, and I really need to make money right now since I’m—”

“It’s only on weekends and a few weeks in New York; I’m sure corporate could help you out.”

“Well, yeah, it sounds really great, but right now I’m still trying to find a place to live and figure out my own finances and—”

“There are always a million reasons not to do something,” Jan interrupted, and Pam was surprised at what good advice it was.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she agreed, with a rush of uncharacteristic conviction. “I’d love to get more information.”

The rest of the meeting passed slowly, but Pam’s mind was racing with possibility. Maybe she could. Maybe she really could; this wasn’t going to be just another thing she’d be momentarily excited about and then give up on when Roy pointed out it wasn’t “practical”.

When she noticed Jim in standing at his desk, she excused herself again to tell him the good news. Her spirit immediately dampened when she saw his face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“So, Roy knows you’re staying with me.” He looked at her, watching her heart sink. “I’m sorry,” he added, looking at her with such sincere intensity that for a moment she had trouble breathing. “He specifically asked,” he explained, “and I—well, I thought it would be worse to lie if we was going to find out later, anyway.”

She nodded, solemn, and asked, “How did he take it?”

“Well he didn’t kill me.” She tried to muster a smile. “I explained it was just temporary; that you needed a place within reasonable distance to work until you figured out something else. I think he half-believed me.”

“I’ll talk to him,” she murmured, staring at her shoes. She didn’t want to think about it. “Hey, um, this is like a totally different topic, but something kind of cool—there’s this internship in graphic design…”

--*--

She found it hard to concentrate when she eventually got back to work. Fear of what Roy would do; what Roy would assume neutralized any excitement she felt over the art internship, leaving her mind numbingly blank.

Each time the phone rang, it startled her, and she answered it absently. “Dunder-Mifflin, this is Pam.”

“What the hell, Pam, you moved in with Halpert?” Fuuuck. She was definitely alert now, and tried not to cry. She did not want to deal with this right now.

“I am not going to talk about this right now; I’m at work,” she responded as calmly as possible, though she could hear the inhibition in her own voice.

“You don’t take my calls! What the fuck do you expect me to do, Pam? Just answer me, are you fucking him?!”

“I said I am not going to talk about this with you.” She tried to keep quiet; void of emotion, but she knew at least Jim was paying attention; could feel those fucking sympathetic eyes upon her.

“Are you?!” She heard him repeat the question twice before she could respond.

“No. I’m not.” She tried to muster as much severity in her tone as she could. “But what would it matter if I were? We’re over. Look, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“C’mon, you’re fucking killing me, Pam! I know you’re screwing him!” Anger burned low in her stomach, and she clutched the phone with a quivering hand.

“Roy! Is it so impossible for you to believe that I’d leave you because I’m tired of you? That you’re the reason I left? There’s not anyone else, Roy, just you, and—No, I am not going to discuss this with you now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She heard Roy begin again, but she couldn’t handle it and slammed the phone down with enough force to chip the plastic. Her eyes burned.

She stole a look at Jim, who mouthed ‘nice’, and suddenly she didn’t want to cry anymore.