February 1996

“Pam what pieces are you submitting to the show?” Liz asked, popping a french fry into her mouth.

Pam shook her head and set down her sandwich, “I’m really not sure, Mrs Miller thinks I should put in the oils from this semester but I don’t think they’re very good.” The curating for the Spring semester art show would start soon, and Pam’s teacher indicated that Pam may get one of the coveted ‘feature’ spots, where a handful of students get an entire wall worth of space.

“Don't be silly, Pam, that one still life is amazing,” Liz replied, tucking a raven-colored lock behind her ear. Liz was a senior, and befriended Pam when Pam took intro photography, in which Liz was the teacher’s aide. Pam thought her photos were beautiful and would be shocked if Liz didn't get scholarship offers from the many art schools she had applied for and was waiting to hear back from. “It should go in your art school portfolio.”

Pam made a small protest before Liz launched into all the reasons Pam should go to art school and the reasons she would get a scholarship. “I just wish the applications weren’t so pricey,” Pam said. And by “applications” she meant everything about art school.

“Do cheesy paintings of people's kids and pets, that's how I swung it,” Liz said. Her eyes shifted to just passed Pam's head and across the cafeteria of Scranton High School. “So this guy’s been nervously looking over here for five minutes.”

“What guy?” Pam said, swiveling her head, before getting chastised by Liz for being so obvious.

“He’s a basketball player, brown hair, tall.”

“Very descriptive,” Pam teased.

“Shut it, I think he's a junior, the one who went out with Hannah Gilbert for one hot second. Herbert?” Liz looked at her tray in great concentration. “Halbert?”

“Oh yeah, um, Halpert, yeah he was in my lit class last semester.” Pam turned around again and searched for the lanky boy, trying to recall her interactions with him in literature. He sat in the back of the class due to his height, and they had never really spoken to each other, but he always smiled at her and seemed nice enough.

When Pam spotted him in the cafeteria, his eyes met hers and he smiled widely. Pam smiled back and felt her cheeks burn a little.

“Pamela Beesly, are you flirting?” Liz said in her best mom-tone.

Pam shrugged, “He’s cute. Though I don’t know, not sure if he’s really my type.”

Liz lowered her head and mumbled a little, “Well, tell him that to his face because he’s coming over.”

“What?” Pam asked a little loudly. Liz almost laughed, then looked up and smiled before pretending her fries were the most interesting thing in the world.

“Hey,” a voice above Pam said.

Pam turned and craned her neck to try to meet the boy’s eyes. “Hi.” Her mind was drawing a blank on his first name. Something with a J?

“I um, I couldn't help but notice you got the mixed berry yogurt,” the boy said, his nervousness starting to show as he didn't seem sure what to do with his hands.

Pam's brows met and she looked to the pink cup on her tray, “Yeah?”

“It's just, well, I got one too and right when I opened it I noticed it was expired, so I just thought…” He grabbed the yogurt cup off Pam's tray and inspected the date on the side, then showed it to Pam, “yeah see, expired.”

Pam looked at the date, which was indeed two days ago. “Oh, wow, look at that.” She looked back up at the boy and smiled, “Well, thanks. You helped me dodge a bullet here.”

“Just a concerned classmate,” the boy said, setting the yogurt cup back down on her tray. He stood awkwardly for a moment before offering his hand. “I'm Jim, by the way. We were in lit-”

“Lit class last semester, yes, I remember,” Pam replied, putting her hand in his. It was large and warm, completely engulfing hers, and she felt her cheeks get hot again when he squeezed her hand a tiny bit. “Pam.”

“Pam,” he repeated quietly, and Pam suspected he was already well aware of her name.

Liz put her hand out as well, “And I'm Elizabeth, but go by Liz.”

Jim looked over to Liz a little startled, as if he honestly forgotten she was there, and let go of Pam's hand to shake Liz’s. Pam missed the warmth of it immediately. “Sorry, Liz, nice to meet you.” He stood back and ran his fingers back through his floppy brown hair. “So, um, do you guys, um…”

The end-of-lunch bell rang and the cafeteria volume rose as everyone started stacking their trays and gathering their things. A group of tall boys came up to Jim, one handing him Jim’s backpack and talking about practice after school. Liz looked to Pam and made a “let's go” motion with her head, and Pam chewed her lip while reluctantly grabbing her bag and following Liz. A few paces into the hallway, Pam looked to see Jim and his friends just coming out of the cafeteria. All the other boys went the opposite direction, leaving Jim by himself, and Pam set her jaw.

“I'll see you after class, Liz,” she stated, heading towards Jim and ignoring Liz calling her name in confusion. She approached his figure, still towering over her even though she was now standing, and hesitated before touching his shoulder.

He turned and when he realized who she was he smiled widely, and Pam felt a warm feeling in her stomach. “Hey Pam.”

“Hey, I just . . . you seemed like you were about to say something when the bell rang.” Pam stammered, no idea where she was going with this.

“Oh yeah,” Jim said with a laugh, “I didn't really have anything to say, just trying to think of something.”

“Okay,” Pam said, now having the same issue herself. “Well, thanks for the heads up about the yogurt,” she said, backing away a little.

“Can I walk with you to your class?” Jim said quickly, as if he wanted to get the words out before he lost the nerve.

Pam blushed a little, “Yeah, sure, it's painting, are you going that direction?”

Jim nodded, but Pam had a hunch he would have nodded no matter what, and they started down the hallway.

“So you play basketball?” Pam said.

“Are you just assuming that because I'm tall?” Jim replied in a rather serious tone.

Pam’s neck stiffened and she shook her head, “Oh, sorry, Liz said you were on the team-”

Jim smiled, “I'm kidding, Pam, yes I'm on JV.”

Pam laughed and looked down the floor, still no idea how to continue the conversation; she knew nothing about basketball, and was sure he didn't care much about art.

“What kind of paintings do you make?” Jim said after a moment.

Pam lifted her head and smiled, “Oh, um, this term we’re working on oils, I'm better with watercolor though. I like landscapes and still-lifes mostly.”

“I bet you’re awesome at oils,” Jim said, giving Pam that fuzzy feeling again with his compliment. “I can't do much beyond stick figures.”

“It just takes lot of practice, I'm sure basketball is the same,” Pam countered. As they approached the art classrooms, the display cases on the wall changed from sports trophies and academic plaques to drawings and paintings.

“Any of these yours?” Jim asked, looking at the names along the bottom of the art pieces.

“Oh yeah, um,” Pam walked a few places to near the end of the case, where her oil still-life had been mounted since the first class critique. “This one.”

Jim eyes widened a little at the painting. “You painted this?”

Pam nodded and couldn't help but smile as Jim so thoroughly studied the painting. “The theme was ‘decay’ thus the cow skull and the rotting fruit.”

“Yeah, it looks really morbid and artsy,” Jim teased. “But you really just captured everything, the colors and the shadows and the texture.”

“Are you a secret art critique?” Pam asked with a laugh.

“Nope, I just know talent when I see it,” Jim said with a quick glance at her. Pam wasn’t really sure what to think of all this, this lanky boy striking up conversations for no good reason, walking her to class, being rather observant with her art.

The 2-minute bell rang and Pam hated for this to have to end, she just wanted to walk down the hallways and chat with Jim all afternoon. “Well, thanks for walking me to class,” Pam said.

Jim smiled, “Thanks for show me your painting.”

“Hey, you, um, you can eat lunch with me and Liz any time.”

The corner of Jim’s mouth lifted into half smile he raised his brows, “Yeah?” Pam nodded and Jim then got a serious look on his face. “I don't know, I might miss some of the riveting, intellectual conversation with my teammates.”

“Oh really?” Pam said, started to get use to Jim’s style of banter. “Well, at least swing by and make sure my yogurt isn't expired.”

“Okay, I will for sure do at least that, tomorrow then?”

Pam smiled and nodded.

“Awesome,” Jim said with a grin. The final bell rang and Pam was sure she heard Jim mutter ‘shit’ under his breath. “Later, Pam!” he said, taking off down the hallway.

Pam laughed watching the lanky boy all but sprint, then blushed when she realized his class wasn't close to hers at all, that he would be late just because he wanted to talk to her.

The next day at lunch, after Pam looked at the cafeteria doors for the 50th time, Liz sighed heavily. “Pam, he's not gonna come eat with us.”

“Where is he then?” Pam asked, looking at the table where a number of basketball players sat.

“He’s probably skipping lunch so he at least doesn’t look like he's rejecting you," Liz said with a shrug. "But he'll be back with them Monday and pretend you two never talked.”

“He wouldn't do that,” Pam said quietly.

“He's a boy, and a jock, he would absolutely do that.”

“Why would he come talk to me and walk me to class and all that if he's just going to pretend nothing happened later?” Pam said, skeptical.

“I don't know, maybe he doesn't know the unspoken rule that jocks don't fraternize with art geeks, his friends probably filled him in at his jock-ball practice last night,” Liz said.

Pam picked her yogurt cup and scowled a little, “Yeah, you're probably right.”

Just as her thumb slipped under the tab of the yogurt lid, someone snatched it out of her hand. “Wait, wait!” Pam looked up to see Jim, squinting his eyes at the expiration date. “Okay, you’re good,” he set the yogurt down, walked to the other side of the table and took a seat. “Sorry, I had to talk to my English teacher about an essay extension,” he said, pulling a paper bag from from his backpack. “Hey Liz, Pam was showing me the art case and I noticed a really cool photo with your name under it.”

Pam held back a chuckle as Liz glanced at her, dumbfounded.

“The one that was a photo of a girl, but it was on top of a bunch of trees?” Jim explained.

Liz stared at Jim for a moment, and Pam kicked her foot under the table,  “Sorry, yeah, um, that’s an overlay.”

Pam peeled off her yogurt lid and couldn’t help but grin as Liz explained photography techniques in far too much detail for a novice to understand, but Jim listened intently and at least pretended to follow along. His eyes occasionally met Pam’s, corners of his mouth curling slightly, and Pam thought she may need to take back what she said to Liz yesterday about Jim Halpert not really being her type.