It wasn't as bad as she'd anticipated. She wore a cute tank-top that showed off what little chest she had. She wore an overshirt, to make her mother happy, but as soon as she was in the car, it was gone and her bra straps were peeking from under the shirt straps. Her curly red hair was pulled back into a ponytail, sure to hurt the next morning. She'd put it up before it'd completely dried so it'd look better.
Not that she cared what she looked like around (for) Roy.
She had a little trouble finding his place, but he'd been standing at the edge of his driveway, "waiting for like twenty minutes."
She almost didn't unlock her door for him. She thought seriously about rolling down the window and telling him she wasn't feeling well.
The party wasn't that bad. Yeah, Roy got hammered. Yeah, he reached down her shirt and stammered something about loving her. Yeah, her mom was pissed because she missed curfew, but not too mad, because she did tell Pam to "be a teenager." Yeah, she met a really cool guy who wasn't anything like Roy; he was clean-shaven, tall, lean and muscular, but best of all, he was nice.
He'd brought his own soda and kept the bottle closed, even offering to share with her a "100% alcohol-free" grape soda.
"...How would I know if it's alcohol-free? I've never...been...drunk...so it's not like I would know."
"I've got too much goin' for me to drink. Scholarships or basketball, a good job, and the 'rents trust me, thus the fancy pickup truck parked on the street."
Roy'd been watching them all night, so the boy told Pam to tell Roy she'd "known him since like second grade;" a lie Roy drunkenly accepted. The boypulled her close, into a half-hug before helping her stash Roy in her car, and told her he worked at the local "Ma and Pa grocery shop," as a bag boy. He worked mostly weekends, nine-to-five-ish, "'cause the owners trust [him]."
It wasn't until she got home that night when she realized Roy'd never asked the boys name, and neither had she.
*****************************************
The next morning, Pam woke up early. She knew she didn't have to work today, but she also knew she wasn't going to stay home like every other Saturday.
Driving past her school, she was glad she stayed away from anything offered at the party last night. The football team was having some kind of "pennance practice," as Roy called it, for "hazing a freshman." The boys didn't seem to be holding up too well in the heat. She guessed the hangovers weren't helping.
She slowed down as she passed the football field, feeling the cool wind hit her arms and face gently. What is it about teenagers and driving with the windows down? She guessed it comes with the freedom of a license and car. Her t-shirt sleeves flapped against her arms as she sped up again, heading to the shop on Ellis Street where Mystery Boy worked.
She'd never been this bold before. Not that this - taking your mother's shopping list and a blank, signed check - was bold. She'd just never seen herself as the kind of girl to do this on a whim.
Then again, she never expected herself to be the kind of girl to get butterflies when smiled at.
And as she's checking out, watching him bag her groceries and waiting for him to - please, please - realize who she is, she spots a nametag.
Jim.
"Hey, you," he smiles sheepishly. "Do you need help getting these to your car?" He winks, and nods the slightest bit.
"Oh, yeah, that'd be awesome," she smiled at him and hoped it'd be him walking her to her car, not some other boy.
The casual conversation while Jim loaded her car down with a seemingly endless number of plastic bags included the wonderfully innocent question: "So, where do you go to school?"
As if there could be anywhere else. Only one high school in the area, she reminded him. Turned out, they go to the same school. They're in the same grade.
"I'm, um...I'm in a lot of extra curriculars. Art, mostly."
"Oh, that explains why I've never seen you, then. I flunked chem last year, so...This is round two for me. That and basketball keeps me pretty busy."
"I hear the team's doing really well this season," she suggested as he opened her door for her.
"Come see for yourself Friday. I'll have one of the cheerleaders save you a spot up close." She never imagined she'd feel so shy, but here it was.
"Oh, yeah, okay. Um. How'll I know the seat's mine?"
"Oh," he made a funny face, and then asked what - she assumes - he should've last night. "What's your name? I'll get one of those holder-cards."
"Pam Beesly," she extended her hand. "Nice to meet you, Jim."
"Halpert," he whispered. "See you Friday."
Author's Chapter Notes:
Title's from Yellowcard's Inside Out. I love Yellowcard. Don't own them, though, or the Office, or these characters, or setting, or...Anything. Even a computer, at the moment. Mine deleted itself.
Chapter End Notes:
Aw, what now?
