“Hey, Jim. Wanna do the thing?”
“Huh?” Jim swings his chair around to see his buddy Steve, the guy who restocks all the vending machines in the office building. “Oh, yes! Thanks, man. Yes, this is perfect. I’ll meet you back there in just a second.” He’s been waiting to pull this prank for months. Dwight is thankfully safely ensconced in Michael’s office, begging for details on the top-secret first quarter camaraderie event, so Jim scoops up as many items as he can from his coworkers desk so that he and Steve can put them in the snack machine.
He’s thanking his lucky stars that Dwight left his wallet in the top drawer of his desk when Pam walks by, steaming mug of tea in hand. “Prank?”
Jim hesitates for half a second before he looks up at her. “Uh, yeah. Steve is gonna help me put Dwight’s stuff in the vending machine.”
“Oh, nice! You’ve been planning that one for a while, right? Need help?” Her eyes are wide and hopeful and sparkling just the tiniest bit, the way they do when she’s excited about something or when she has her head thrown back in laughter. He remembers the way she looked at lunch the day before as she talked about how she didn’t get to spend much time with her family over the holidays, and it makes his heart ache. It wasn’t just that she looked so sad, it was that she also looked so resigned to it. Like she already knew that this is what life was going to be like for her and she’d just accepted it.
So, because we’re friends, best friends is on repeat in his head and because she just looks so eager to be part of his prank and because he’s never been able to resist when it comes to her even though he tries, he really really does, he smiles and nods. “Yeah. Do you think you can track down some nickels real quick?”
She smiles widely, her tongue poking between her teeth. He’s been trying to remind himself that she’s happily engaged, it doesn’t mean anything but when she looks at him like that, the words all run together until all he can think is love her love her love her--
Those two words thrum inside his head for the rest of the day, only stopping when they head down to the parking lot to leave for the booze cruise and Katy is there. As she throws her arms around his neck he tells himself to snap out of it. He should feel lucky--he is lucky--to have a great girl like Katy all pressed up against him and threading her fingers through his hair, smiling at him like the cat that ate the canary. Then, love her love her love her is replaced with just friends just friends just friends and in an attempt to drive the point home, he watches her climb into the passenger seat of Roy’s truck over the top of Katy’s head.
Jim heads straight to the bar once they get on the boat. He’s not usually one to drown his sorrows (and he tells himself that he doesn’t have any sorrows to drown, anyway), but he’s glad he has a beer in hand when Katy grabs his arm and steers him over to the booth that Pam and Roy occupy. He sips it slowly and tries to listen to Katy as she chats with Roy while also trying to not let his eyes flick towards Pam too often. He fails at both.
He fails at listening to Katy because honestly, he doesn’t really care about it being like they’re in high school and at the popular table. He fails at not looking at Pam because Pam is openly looking at Katy and he’s trying to decide what the expression on her face means. Disbelief? Contempt? He can’t put his finger on it. He watches her as the conversation unfolds, notices the she casts her eyes towards the table when Roy and Katy laugh at Pam wearing turtlenecks and liking art in high school and can’t help but to jump to her defense, albeit pretty lamely.
When Roy asks Katy if she cheered in high school, he’s not sure why he automatically assumes that she didn’t. It’s not a surprise when she corrects him, and it’s not even a surprise when she starts a cheer at the table. What is a surprise is the way that Pam reacts to Katy’s cheer. She looks at him with an expression that he takes to mean really? He responds with a look of his own that says hey, what can you do? Pam’s answer to that is to very openly mock Katy with raised eyebrows and a head jiggle and he can’t stop smiling at her because he thinks it’s ridiculous as she does and love her love her love her.
Jim quickly turns his attention to the label on his beer bottle and starts picking at the corner of it so that he doesn’t accidentally speak his thoughts and distract Roy and Katy from reminiscing over their high school glory days. He stretches his leg out underneath the table and his foot slides against Pam’s and it immediately causes an intense and visceral reaction. It’s like his heart is in a vice grip and is being squeezed while also expanding so much that he can’t catch his breath. He knows that it’s pathetic that just the tiniest bit of her body touching the tiniest bit of his (even through socks and shoes and nylons) is electrifying enough to cause his mouth to go bone dry. It’s intimate, or at least it feels that way, and he almost feels guilty about her fiance and his girlfriend being inches away and none the wiser.
Almost.
Michael starts talking then, though, and Pam shifts in her seat so she can look at their boss and the moment passes. If it was even a moment at all. He tries to listen to Michael but all he can can hear is the blood rushing in his ears and it doesn’t matter anyway, because Michael is sidelined by Captain Jack. The boat descends into a little bit of chaos, complete with a very entertaining dance contest and a couple of rousing (if uninventive) chants. He can hardly hear himself think, and one look at Pam’s face tells him that she feels the same.
And that’s how they wind up outside. Together. It’s cold and a little windy and he’s almost positive there’s a cameraman somewhere out here because how could they miss an opportunity to film Dwight “steering” the ship? But he can’t make himself care about the possibility of being filmed because being next to Pam overrules everything. Her cheeks are rosy from the cold and he’s tempted to cup them in his hands, let the way he feels seep into her body and warm her because it’s burning him up from the inside out. His hand begins to move of its own accord and he grips the rail in an attempt to keep it still.
“Sometimes I just don’t get Roy.”
He grips the rail harder. He doesn’t know what to say to that; doesn’t know what she wants him to say to that. There are a lot of things he’d like to say, and he gets out an eye roll and a “well,” but there’s not a way to finish that sentence that’s very nice, so he doesn’t say anything.
“I mean, I don’t know.”
He wants to ask her to clarify. She doesn’t know what, exactly? Doesn’t know why she’s with Roy? Doesn’t know what she sees in him? Doesn’t know why she’s let her engagement stretch and her wedding date be postponed over and over?
She looks at him and he feels his heart leap. Her expression is serious enough that he’s sure she’s going to keep going, to pick apart the reasons why she “doesn’t get” Roy. Instead she smiles and cracks a joke about dating a cheerleader and he laughs, not because it’s funny, but because it’s just so ridiculous. Their entire relationship could be summed up in this one exchange: they tiptoe around something serious, flirt with the idea of opening up and letting things get raw and ugly and real, and then at the very last second they deflect with humor. It’s a (not at all) fun little game they play and they’re equally talented at it.
That means that it’s his turn. Those are the the rules, or at least he thinks they are. Either way, he knows she’s expecting their usual banter and for him to steer the conversation into something more palatable and less heart wrenching. And he tries, he really does. He just doesn’t feel very funny, so all that comes out is “oh, um…”
And then he looks at her, really looks at her in the way that he always wants to but never allows himself. There’s silence between them and it makes the cold air heavy and thick and he can tell that she’s uncomfortable but it’s suddenly become the most important thing in the world that she speaks first. He feels like they’re on the cusp of something, like Pam is about to finally be honest with herself. With him. Because there has to be something there. Maybe if he stays silent long enough she’ll get the courage to admit it.
She smiles at him, obviously waiting for his response to her cheerleader joke. When it doesn’t come and he doesn’t break eye contact, she shifts. He watches as the smile shrinks away from her face and her body turns away from him just the tiniest amount. Any hope he may have had for some big revelation is lost.
“I’m cold.” It sounds like an apology. He guesses that it is, in a way. He’s not sure he wants to know exactly what for.
He stays at the railing long enough for the lights of the city to not look quite so blurry.
Back inside, he heads straight for the bar once again. The bartender is at the opposite end recreating scenes from Cocktails to a rapt audience of cute girls and therefore probably too busy to take Jim's order, but he doesn’t really care. He doesn’t think another drink will help, anyway. Captain Jack is there, too, with Michael and Dwight but he’s so caught up in his own thoughts that he doesn’t listen to their conversation. So when Captain Jack asks Jim who he would save if the building is on fire, he’s caught off guard. He casts his eyes around the room so he can think of something good to say, and they land right on Pam. She’s laughing and she’s beautiful and he’s struck by it, by the weight of his feelings for her. But he can’t say “I’d save Pam” so he gives the kind of answer that he knows Michael wants to hear.
He doesn’t expect Captain Jack to call him on it. Nobody’s ever done that before. He feels like he’s been dunked into the icy water of Lake Wallenpaupak as realization washes over him. He would save the receptionist, maybe he could save the receptionist (metaphorically speaking), but not if he’s just standing around waiting for her to make the first move. He knows now that it has to be him.
Roy semi-drunkenly stumbles up to the bar and starts asking Captain Jack about near death encounters. Jim takes that as his cue to leave. The camera crew catches up to him as he heads towards Pam and he knows that they know, probably a lot more than they let on. So he’s honest. It feels good. “You know what? I would save the receptionist. I just wanted to clear that up.”
He doesn’t know what he’s going to say. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do if it goes badly. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do if it doesn’t go badly. Not to mention, her fiance and his girlfriend are there, too, and they still have at least a few hours before they make it back to the dock. But he can’t find it in himself to care about anything other than getting to Pam and telling her the truth.
But then the world comes crashing down around him. He hears Roy say “Pam” and “wedding date” and “June 10th” and the entire boat starts cheering and Pam brushes past him without a glance in his direction. He sinks into the booth as they kiss and hug and sway and he becomes completely numb. He can’t--he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know anything. Outside the window, the lights of the city look blurry again.
Everyone’s dancing and he can feel Katy looking at him expectantly, but he keeps his head turned towards the window. She eventually gives up and slides into the booth across from him. There’s no way he can stand on a dance floor next to Pam and Roy, not without puking or sobbing or flying into a rage or something equally dramatic. The best course of action, he decides, is to sit there and stare out the window and try his hardest to just not feel.
Katy seems determined to not let him do that. Not that she even knows what he’s trying to do, but still. “You should make a toast.”
“No. I really don’t...want to.”
“Jim, come on! Don’t be shy.” She stands up and turns towards the crowd before he can stop her. “Everybody? Everybody, there’s a toast.” She comes to stand by Jim and pushes him to get up. “Come on!”
Pam is smiling at him and she looks so goddamn radiant that he almost loses his breath. He feels like he’s been stabbed in the heart. It’s for her that he shuffles forward and lamely begins a toast. “Thanks, Katy. Um...didn’t really prepare anything to say. We’re all caught pretty unprepared with this whirlwind courtship.” Pam laughs and looks up at Roy who takes it in stride and smiles goodnaturedly like the charming bastard that he is, which makes the whole thing even more difficult. Fuck. “I guess I just wanna say that Pam is…” The love of my life. The reason I wake up in the morning. The person that makes me happier than I’ve ever been. He looks at her, at Roy’s arm wrapped around her with a level of comfort that he know he’ll never get to experience, at the way Pam is tucked against Roy’s body with her left hand against his chest. He swallows his confessions and gives a watered down version instead. “The greatest. My best friend. And..she’s awesome. And--”
He’s going to say that he wants nothing more than for her to have the happiness she deserves. That his wish for her is to have the life and the love that she’s dreamed of. That he hopes that her marriage is full of laughter and fun and encouragement and understanding. But Dwight cuts him off and soon the band starts back up and Roy’s hands are on her hips and her fingers are stroking the back of Roy’s neck and Jim has to get out because the walls are closing in on him.
But once outside he finds himself standing at a window and staring in at the dance floor. He can’t escape. Maybe because he won’t let himself. It’s like some weird form of self-flagellation, watching her as she looks at Roy with love and admiration written all over her face. He can’t look away but even if he could, he wouldn’t. He feels like he deserves this for falling in love with her in the first place, because how stupid could he be, really? He never had a chance but he held on, let himself get deeper and deeper into the fantasy he had of her one day realizing how perfect they are for each other and leaving Roy in the dust. He deserves the pain, he thinks, because he’s been a jackass.
Katy finds him before too long and cuddles up next to him. She looks in at Pam and Roy, too, with a smile on her face. “Do you think that’ll ever be us?”
The “no” that comes out of his mouth is more deliberate and harsh than he intends for it to be. But it’s the truth and it’s a relief to say it. He’d been so ready to be honest with Pam before, so why not be honest with Katy now? She’s innocent in this, just caught up in his attempt to move on and not be so pathetic. But it isn’t working, was never working, and there’s no time like to present, right?
“What is wrong with you? Why did you even bring me here tonight?”
“I don’t know. Let’s break up.” This isn’t quite how he expected the conversation to go, but oh well. He’s still numb enough to not really care. He really is a jackass.
The rest of the evening passes without much more upheaval of Jim’s personal life, although not without incident. Michael causes a commotion (of course), Katy glares at Jim from across the room (she has every right to do so), Pam and Roy canoodle (he tries not to look), and Jim stares at the brown glass of the mostly full beer bottle on the table in front of him. Eventually the hostile looks Katy throws at him combined with the sound of Pam and Roy giggling and whispering on the dance floor drive him outside.
He finds Michael, zip tied to the railing. “Somebody there?”
“What happened to you?”
“Captain Jack has a problem with authority.”
“Oh, right, ‘cause you announced that his ship was sinking.”
Michael scoffs. “He just totally lost it. If you ask me, he caused the panic.”
Usually Jim would point out the flaw in Michael’s thinking, but he just doesn’t have the energy. Instead he just sighs. “What a night.”
“Well, it was nice for you. Your friend got engaged.”
We’re friends, best friends. “She was always engaged.” It’s time to move on. It doesn’t mean anything.
“Roy said the first one didn’t count.”
“That’s…great.” It’s not, though, it’s maybe the worst fucking thing he’s ever heard, but what can he do about it? He’d like to get mad and ask Roy exactly what he meant by it and look Pam in the eye and say he said it didn’t count! but there’s no point in any of that, so he shakes his head and tires to push the thought away. His brain is so preoccupied that it doesn’t catch up with his mouth and he hears himself speak without knowing what he’s going to say. “You know, to tell you the truth, I...used to have a big thing for Pam. So.”
“Really? You’re kidding me.” Jim doesn’t respond, he’s not sure what to say. Maybe he just needed to get it out, tell some version of the truth to somebody other than the documentary crew. He didn’t expect for that somebody to be Michael. “You and Pam? Wow. I would have never...put you two together. You really hid it well. God! I usually have a radar for stuff like that.” Michael sighs. “You know I made out with Jan--”
“Yeah. I know.” That’s a conversation he definitely doesn’t want to have.
“Yeah, yup. Well Pam is cute.”
“Yeah. She’s really funny, and--she’s warm, and she’s just…anyway.”
“Well, if you like her so much, uh, don’t give up.”
Michael says it like it’s obvious. Jim jerks his head towards his boss, because doesn’t he know? Wasn’t he there? “She’s engaged.”
Michael shrugs that away like it’s not a problem. “BFD. Engaged ain’t married.”
She’s happily engaged. Engaged ain’t married. He’s never thought of it that way before. “Huh.”
“Never, ever, ever give up.”
