Should ever we meet on your side of your stereo
I will pretend I know not of your thoughts
-Anna Nalick, In My Head
Pam can't remember the last time she's had such a great night and she really doesn't want it to end. From the script reading to the self- proclaimed famous grilled cheese and the hours spent talking on the roof, the night has been more fun and different and wonderful than any she's had in a very long time.
Jim pulls out his iPod and looks like he's getting ready to leave, so she says the first thing she can think of ("You have new music?") and holds out her palm expectantly.
He grins and steps closer, offering up his other earpiece and Pam decides that reality can wait another few minutes.
* * * * *
Jim has run out of plausible excuses to be around her any longer tonight and he's pleasantly surprised when Pam finds a way to draw it out just a little bit more. Tonight there'd been a movie (in a manner of speaking), dinner and drinks, conversation by candlelight, fireworks, and now quiet music and almost-dancing, all with Pam.
It's a lot for one night, even for Jim, who's been loving Pam without doing anything about it for so long he's thinking about going pro.
Tonight has been the best first date of Jim's life and he's trying hard not to think about how unfair that is.
* * * * *
Earlier, up on the roof, Jim asked about her dreams and she hadn't known what to say.
Pam remembers that she used to have big, bright dreams and she wonders when all that was left on her horizon became held calls, unfulfilled promises and chicken wings on football Sundays.
But there are some dreams that Pam has quietly clung to, in a sort of silent desperation that scares her a little sometimes.
Like she imagines lazy Saturday afternoons spent sketching on her terrace, protective arms curling around her waist and whispered words that make her feel loved and wanted.
'But what good's a terrace, Pammy?', she remembers Roy asking once. 'Can't you just... sit by the window?'
* * * * *
Up on the roof Pam insisted that he was better than this place and he must be planning for bigger, better things.
A million responses had flashed through his mind.
You're better than this, too, Pam.
All of my plans changed the moment I met you.
My plan is to do whatever it takes to see you every day.
It was all true and he almost said something (everything), but it didn't seem like enough and he's afraid it never will. So instead he settled on, "World domination" and was rewarded with her laughter.
As long as you're with me, he can't help but finish silently.
Jim wonders when all of his plans stopped being me and started being us, and then he decides it doesn't matter because when she looks up at him he can see untold promise in her eyes.
* * * * *
Suddenly the night has turned intimate in a way she hadn't foreseen. It's not uncomfortable (how could anything be when she's with Jim?) but Pam knows she's treading very close to dangerous waters.
She's trying not to think about how in this moment she'd rather be out here beside Jim in the crisp fall night than at home in bed with Roy.
She tells herself it's because Jim is her friend. Her best friend, ever.
Just one more song, Pam tells herself, but she's so, so tired of keeping difficult promises.
* * * * *
They've been swaying together for almost three songs now, heads and fingers and toes moving to the beat.
Jim isn't sure what they're waiting for, but he's never been a complainer and he's not about to start now.
It would be so easy to just reach out and pull her to him, Jim thinks, as a new wave of longing crashes in; to tell her everything she is to him and make her see everything they could be together.
But then her ring catches in the streetlight, and in a flash the space between them feels like a canyon that could swallow him whole.
* * * * *
Maybe someday she'll have the courage or he'll have the perfect words.
Or maybe those things won't matter. Maybe one day he'll take a step and she'll take a step and then they'll be dancing.
Maybe, someday.
But for now, they sway.
