Pam’s eyes snapped open, as they did every morning, five seconds before her alarm clock went off. Today she had a decision to make, she thought as she lunged to turn off the alarm before it could go off at all. Did she continue indulging herself, going down the path of yesterday’s art class? Did she go through the other flyers she’d found systematically? Or did she go back to the Booze Cruise and try to figure out what had gone wrong, what it was that she was supposed to fix? Because for all that she’d enjoyed yesterday, for all that she felt strongly that she wanted to go back to that YMCA art class and hang out with Melanie forever, she doubted that the trick to whatever was going on was to be found in the abstract art class. She never would have considered going to that class before she knew she had unlimited time, so whatever it was she needed to work on couldn’t be there. It had to be something she could have done differently that first time; something in her workaday world, so to speak, or on the cruise.

But she wasn’t sure she wanted to face that right now.

After all, she thought, feeling a guilty blush steal warmly across her cheeks, she didn’t have to, did she? She could keep coming up with excuses—hell, she could just ditch work entirely without excuses, since no one would remember tomorrow—and she could keep working on her art. But that wasn’t really her, was it? Pam Beesly didn’t blow off obligations. But then again, on the other hand, Pam Beesly also wasn’t all that special. Certainly not special enough to be the center of some kind of infinite repeating loop, the one person who remembered everything. So which was she? The person who kept on plodding through a boring life (and when had she admitted to herself that yes, it was a boring life?) and met every obligation others imposed on her, keeping her head down, or the person with the power to change the whole world by her choices?

She knew she was the first one. But apparently she had to be the second one too. It was a puzzle, and no mistake.

She thought about how she usually dealt with temptation. She didn’t indulge, no, but she didn’t entirely deny herself either. She’d have one piece of chocolate after dinner, or go to one barbecue without Roy (her cheeks flamed again at the thought of Jim’s room), or spend one night painting instead of cleaning. So how did that translate now? She could maybe alternate? One day of exploring, of total freedom, for one day of trying to figure out what she should have done differently?

That seemed…fair. Not that anyone else could judge her, of course, since none of them would know about it, but she would know and that was enough. It seemed fair.

But if she was being fair, she had to admit that she’d had her day of fun yesterday. So today it was back to the grind. And if she was going to go back on that cruise, she’d need a plan. She’d need to change something. What could she change?

Maybe she could start by getting rid of a cheerleader.

The rest of the morning went as she knew it would, once she poked Roy awake and pointed him in the general direction of the shower. They made it in in time for her to buy Dwight’s pencil cup (she vaguely recalled something in high school science about reducing independent variables, which she remembered meaning something like changing as few things as possible so that you could tell what change actually mattered). She pretended surprise at Michael’s revelation (to be fair, she’d been pretending the first time because of Stanley’s good work) and felt sorrow for Brenda being mixed up in all this all over again. But as the meeting was breaking up she kissed Roy on the cheek (thinking “it’s not his fault he doesn’t love me the way he should,” which was a less bitter and more sweet version of bittersweet than she’d expected of herself) and grabbed Jim by the sleeve as he tried to slip out of the conference room.

“Hey.”

“Uh, hi.” He looked about him comically. “Where’d you come from?”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “I was sitting right behind you, dork.”

He grinned. “To be fair, I don’t have eyes in the back of my head.”

“Probably for the best. It would totally suck to have that much hair in your eyes all the time.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “It is getting a bit long, isn’t it?”

“Getting? Jim, how long have we known each other?”

“Couple of years now.”

“Has your hair ever been short?”

He rolled his eyes up in thought. “There was that one time we tried to convince Dwight I had given him lice.”

“Right.” She giggled. Why was she giggling? She didn’t giggle. Except apparently she did. “Any other time?”

“No.” He stopped rubbing his neck. “Was there a point to this, or did you just want to mock my hairstyle?”

“Oh!” She blushed. Why was she blushing? Right, she was about to try to convince her best friend not to invite his…his girlfriend to a work event. “Yeah, um, I just wanted to…” Dammit, the plan had seemed so straightforward in the pale dark of morning. Where was her courage now? “IjustwantedtoaskifyouwerebringingLarissaonthecruise,” she finally spat out in a rush.

“Woah, slow down there Beesly.” He extended both arms as if to ward her off, but he was laughing as he did it. “Care to say that a little slower, so the rest of the class can hear?”

She could feel the blood in her face pounding. “I just wanted to ask if you were bringing Larissa on the cruise.” She took a deep breath. “I remembered how she came bowling with us and it was really cool.”

He grinned. “You mean you liked that she kicked my ass at bowling.”

“Maaaaaaybe.” She grinned back. “I was just hoping to hang out with her, since she obviously got all coolness in the family. And all the bowling skillz.” She made sure to pronounce the Z.

“All the coolness? You wound me. I am wounded.” He clutched his heart.

She raised an eyebrow. “Well, maybe not all the coolness. After all, if you invited her, some of the coolness she brought with her would count as yours, I suppose. If she came.”

“So to increase my cool quotient, I need to bring my kid sister? Wow, Pam, you really know how to make a guy feel special.” But his eyes were smiling even as his mouth pouted.  She patted his arm.

“I’m sure if you explain to her very nicely that the mean lady told you you had to bring her she’ll take pity on you and make you feel cool and special, James.” She dug deep to memories of her fourth-grade teacher, who’d always called her and the other kids by their full names (Pamela. Rebecca. Isadora.) when she’d been trying to connect with them on an individual level. Not their full-full names, like when her mom was mad at her (Pamela Morgan Beesly you come here this instant!) but just a little sign of respect beyond a nickname. It had worked on her, and apparently it worked on Jim, because he gave her a little bow and headed to his desk, and when she passed by him after getting a candy bar from the vending machine (now that Dwight had rebought all his possessions) he was whispering something into his phone about “help a brother out…yes, specifically your brother, L” and winked at her as she passed by.

The rest of the workday passed without incident, and honestly Pam didn’t notice much of it because it was all the same. The next thing she really paid attention to was the dynamic on the boat after she’d maneuvered herself and Roy into the same booth with Jim and Larissa. Funny…she didn’t remember having to do as much maneuvering when Jim had brought Katy.

“Heya Pam!” Larissa grinned with infectious enthusiasm across the booth.

“Hey yourself!” Pam smiled at the younger woman. “Roy, you remember Larissa, Jim’s sister?”

“I guess.” Roy gave Larissa the kind of smile that Pam knew from experience meant he had no idea who she was.

“You remember her, she beat Darryl at bowling last year?”

“Oh right, the ringer. How ya doing?” A big hand swung over the table, and Larissa fist-bumped it. Roy turned to Jim. “What’s the matter, Halpert, no date tonight?”

“Nah.” Jim stretched an arm out over the top of the booth around his sister. “It said friends and family on the invitation, ya know? So, family.” He gestured at her.

Larissa looked up at her brother and then winked at Pam. “Yeah, he calls me at like 3:30 and is all ‘L, ya gotta be there for me.’” Her voice imitating Jim was impossibly deep. “‘Help a brother out.’” She switched back to her own voice. “So, you know, I felt sorry for the guy.”

Roy was chortling. “’Smatter, Halpert, couldn’t find anyone else so you begged your kid sister?”

Pam rolled her eyes, and she could see that Jim was getting uncomfortable—and that Larissa was looking at Roy speculatively in a way that suggested that she’d assumed he was a nicer man than he was proving to be. “Roy, you know if Penny weren’t away at college I’d love to have her here.”

Roy slung an arm around her and squashed her to his side. “But you have me, Pammy.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Yes, but we each could have brought a plus one if we’d wanted, since we’re both employees. And I’m really glad Jim brought Larissa.” She smiled at Larissa, who grinned back, her attitude apparently unimpaired.

“Shit, I could’ve brought Kenny?” Roy shook his head. “Man, he’ll be pissed to realize he missed free booze. I’ll have to tell him that.” He shook his head again. “He’ll freak.”

Speaking of free booze, the conversation kind of petered out until Roy noticed the snorkel shots, which again pulled him away from the table. Only this time Pam didn’t feel the need to get up herself, and she and Jim and Larissa ended up talking about…well, actually, pretty much nothing, but a really fun nothing for most of the rest of the cruise. She almost lost track of time, until something about the lighting…or the maybe the feeling of the room…or something told her that it was right before Roy was about to get on the mic again and propose—or rather, set a date—(assuming this cycle went like the others) and she signaled to Larissa with her head to go to the bathroom with her. Jim managed to avoid making a joke about women going to the bathroom together, which raised him substantially in her esteem.

Before they got to the bathroom, though, she pulled Larissa outside.

“Sometimes I just don’t get Roy.” She remembered saying that to another Halpert, but Larissa’s face was a lot easier to read than Jim’s.

“What’s to get?” Larissa leaned against the railing and flushed. “I mean, I’m sorry, he’s your fiancé, I shouldn’t…”

Pam waved it off. “No, no…” she stared out into the lake. Why was this easier to talk about with Larissa, whom she liked but hardly knew, than to Jim? “Out with it. I’m out here hiding from him, the least I can do is listen to you.”

Larissa half-smiled. “It’s not like I have any great insight.” She shrugged. “I just wonder why you’re struggling to explain what seems pretty straightforward.”

“Yeah.” Pam stared out across the lake next to her. “…care to explain it to me?”

Unfortunately, Kelly chose that moment to burst out of the cabin. “PAAAAAM! Ohmigod! I can’t believe you’re out here, you totally need to come in and hear what Roy’s saying!”

Pam shoved herself wearily off the railing. “Did he just suggest we get married on June 10th?”

Kelly and Larissa stared at her. “How did you know? Did he already talk to you in advance? Ohmigod, Pam, can I be a bridesmaid?”

“Sure.” Pam shrugged. “Why not? Larissa, you want in?”

Larissa looked at her oddly, but nodded, while Kelly squealed, started listing potential colors for dresses, and sprinted back in “to give Roy the good news.” Whether that good news was that Pam had (by sheer inertia) agreed to the date or that Kelly herself was a going to be a bridesmaid was left unclear.

“So…June 10th?” Larissa’s voice was quiet.

“I guess.” Pam shrugged. “This time at least.” Larissa looked at her even more oddly, but Pam was just feeling tired. She’d come back to this some other cycle—and find some way to get to the rest of that conversation with Larissa before Roy tried to set a date. Right now she was just so tired of it all. Tired of Roy. Not tired of Larissa, precisely, or of Jim of course, but of the whole situation. “Let’s just get it over with.” And she headed back into the cabin.