As he crossed the Pennsylvania state line, Jim took a deep breath. It had been four months since he had been back to Scranton. Four months since he picked up and moved everything he owned to Connecticut. Well, mostly everything. His heart never quite made it inside the moving truck. No, he had placed his heart in the hands of an auburn-haired receptionist in a dimly lit office four months prior and when she didn’t take it, he couldn’t bear to pick it up off the floor. It was still hers. Probably always would be.
The Scranton city limits neared closer and he had already made the decision to take an alternate route to his parent’s house. He didn’t want to drive past Cugino’s, or Rite Aid, or Chili’s. And passing the Dunder Mifflin building was certainly out of the question. Really, he had already decided to confine himself to the four walls of his parent’s house the entire weekend. He was in the process of rebuilding himself twig by twig and running into her, seeing a wedding ring on her left hand that matched the one that ultimately had become a noose for their relationship, would surely be a burning match thrown onto the pile.
He assumed she had gotten married. He had to assume that, because if she didn't get married, she hadn't told him. And that almost hurt more, to know the roadblock that forced her to turn him away that night wasn't her fiance.
It was that she didn't want him.
He reached down and cranked the volume knob on his radio in hopes of evicting the thoughts of Pam and replacing them with...well, with literally anything else. She had infiltrated every thought, word, and action in his life as of late and quite frankly, he was just so damn exhausted from it all. He'd shed 15 lbs off his already thin frame. He went to bed at 9:00 every night only to toss and turn until 2 am. He had seen literally none of the new city he lived in. So he knew he had to find a way out of this miserable pit he was digging for himself and hoped that a weekend celebrating his little sister's birthday would help, even if he never left the house.
He pulled into the driveway of the Halpert family home and killed the engine. The window blinds at the front of the house scissored open and he saw two smiling eyes peer out of the gap. Just seconds later, the front door flew open and his sister darted toward his car, bypassing every porch step with one big leap. He stepped out of the car to greet her as she gave him a warm hug.
"Hey, big brother!"
"Hey, kid! Happy birthday! What are you, 12 now?
"What are you," she scoffed. "Dyslexic now? I'm 21."
Jim laughed. "And do mom and dad believe that you haven't had any alcohol before today?"
"Hell no," she laughed. "Perks of being the youngest, though. They don't seem to care. You three must have set a really low bar."
He smiled to himself as Larissa trotted back into the house. There were almost 7 years between them (she was a little bit of a surprise for their parents) but somehow they had always been extremely close, despite the age difference. He even took her to her senior prom after her sorry excuse for a boyfriend dumped her the day before the dance. She had rolled her eyes when he had shown up at their parents house and offered to go with her, but when they got home that night, she hugged him tightly and thanked him through teary eyes.
Grabbing his bag from the back seat, he turned toward his childhood home. Once inside, his mom enveloped him in a hug, his dad clapped him on the shoulder with a buoyant "Hi, son!" and his two older brothers lifted their chins to him in acknowledgement without looking away from the TV. He tipped a metaphorical hat to the creepy clown picture in the hallway, climbed the stairs, and dropped his bag on the floor of his old room. Everything looked exactly as it did the summer he moved out. Random trophies lining the shelves, posters of his favorite NBA players, and stacks of his old CD's everywhere. He had all the music on his phone now, but could never bear to part with the physical discs.
He picked a CD case off the shelf and sat on the edge of his bed, turning it over in his hands.
"Good Charlotte," a voice said from his doorway. "I'm sure mom is really glad that was just a phase."
Jim chuckled and tossed the CD to Larissa. "I never did quite get the hang of eyeliner anyway."
She cracked a smile and walked over, plopping herself down next to him. She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder.
"How are you holding up?" she asked softly.
Jim hadn't told many people about Pam. Or at least not the full story. His mom knew bits and pieces, he clumsily told Mark most of it after getting wasted before he moved, and he was pretty sure everyone in his life suspected something. But Larissa knew every detail. She had always told him that he was the only one in the family that didn't treat her like a perpetual ten-year-old, and that was because Jim knew she was wise beyond her years and always intrinsically knew whether he wanted advice or just a listening ear. Even as a teenager in high school, she gave better advice than any adult he knew.
"I'm…okay."
Larissa lifted her head and gave him a skeptical look.
"No, really. I think things are slowly getting better."
"But...you still miss her."
His chest tightened and he dropped his head low.
"Like hell," he choked out.
She threaded her arm through his and put her head back down on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
Before he could dwell too much on exactly how much he missed Pam, their mom called them down for dinner.
Birthday dinners at the Halpert house were one of Jim's favorite things. Betsy would make all of them go around and say something nice about whoever's birthday it was, but quickly it turned into a playful roasting session that left everyone in stitches, Betsy half-heartedly scolding them though her own hiccups of laughter. For the hour they were at the table, he didn't think of Pam once, which was basically a record these days. It wasn't until Tom said he and Marcie had to leave, and he watched his brother help his wife into her coat and give her a sweet, lingering kiss when they thought nobody was watching, did he think about Pam and how much he wished he was doing those kinds of things with her.
He excused himself from the table, squeezing Larissa's shoulder as he passed her chair, and took the stairs back to his room. Out the window, he saw the sun had set and he felt the dull ache settle in his chest. When it got dark and things slowed down, that's when he was left with nothing but his own thoughts, memories, and regrets. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, then slinked over to the window.
Directly outside was easy access to the roof of the garage. As a kid, as well as into his teenage years, it became his "spot". So much so, that when looking out the window, he could see a trail where the shingles were more worn than those surrounding them from all the times he had gone out to escape Tom and Pete's relentless older brother-ness, or clear his head after a tough basketball game, or to make big decisions.
He pushed the window open like so many times before, and maneuvered his way out to the roof, this time to have a quiet place to allow his heart to continue breaking for a girl that could never be his because she married someone else. The familiar scraping sound of shingles under the soles of his shoes filled his ears as he lowered himself down. The air was brisk, but the sky was clear, revealing the glowing stars above him. It was quiet out, still and calm, and he looked out over the neighborhood he grew up in, lit up by streetlights. So much of who he was, was built on these streets, in this house, and on the very spot he sat. He just wished he could share it with someone. But not just anyone, he admitted to himself. Her. It's always her.
He heard a small tap on the window and turned his head to see Larissa standing there with two beers in hand and a shrug/smirk combo that was the classic one-two punch of the Halpert family. He beckoned her forward, as if giving her permission to join him in his own little circle of wallowing and self-pity. Larissa stepped out onto the roof and handed Jim a beer before taking a seat next to him and lifting her bottle to tap his with a soft *clink*.
She brought the bottle to her mouth then turned to Jim. "Thanks for sharing my first beer with me."
Jim chuckled. "Bullshit."
Larissa flashed a smile. "Fine, my first legal beer."
The two of them sat quietly looking over the town, nothing but the occasional swish of liquid against glass to fill the silence. Larissa rotated the bottle in her hand, picking at the label.
"I don't like seeing you this way," she said softly, staring down. "And I know I promised you I wouldn't be mad at Pam, but she really did a number on you."
"'Ris--" he started.
"No, Jim. You're completely miserable. And we need to do something about it."
He snarled his fingers through his hair. "Like what? She's married. At least I think she is."
Larissa had made him unfollow and block Pam on all social media after he moved, not that that she ever even updated it. He had ventured to her profile countless times when he couldn't sleep, but all he could see was the same profile picture she had had since 2015.
"Give me your phone," Larissa said with her hand outstretched.
"Why?"
"Just give it to me, dummy."
He extended his leg forward so he could pull his phone out of his pocket and reluctantly handed it over to his little sister. She turned it on and began typing.
"How do you know my passcode?"
She looked at him dryly. "It's your birthdate. You really don't realize how unoriginal you are, do you?"
He scoffed and leaned in to see what she was doing, but she turned the screen away every time he tried. After a few minutes, she handed it back to him.
"What did you do?" he questioned cautiously.
She shrugged and pushed herself up to stand. "I put a dating app on your phone."
"You what?!"
"I didn't activate your profile yet, calm down. But I think you need to get your mind off of Pam. I'm not saying you need to find your soulmate, but at least go try and have fun. Meet people. Maybe get some action."
"Larissa!" he said, eyes wide.
"What?" She laughed. Her expression changed as she looked back to him. "Listen, you don't have to use it. But promise me you'll think about it. For my birthday. I miss my big brother."
Jim watched as Larissa slid back into his room and turned his phone over a few times in his hand. Maybe she was right. He didn't know if he was up for dating, but what he was doing now sure wasn't cutting it. Maybe finding something (or someone) to get his mind off of Pam wasn't the worst thing. He tipped his beer back to finish it off, then crawled back through his window.
That night he laid in bed, sleep evading him as usual. He tossed and turned, flipped his pillow a few times, and counted as many sheep as he could, before finally turning to his side and grabbing his phone from the nightstand. He scrolled to the dating app Larissa had downloaded and lingered his thumb over it.
"Here goes nothing," he muttered out loud to himself before opening the app.
Larissa had already started his profile, choosing the picture and writing a brief bio about him. And he had to admit, she did a pretty good job. He sucked in a breath and pressed the "Activate your Profile" button.
The screen changed and a picture of a blonde girl holding a golden retriever puppy popped up. From what he understood, he could swipe to the left if he wasn't interested and swipe right if was. He looked at his screen, mumbling something to himself about how he thought it was shallow to decide if you wanted to date someone solely based on one picture.
The first girl's name was Morgan. Pass. Pam's middle name.
The next girl had curly hair. Pass.
That one gave off strong receptionist vibes. Pass.
The next girl was wearing a pink cardigan in her picture. Hard pass.
He set his phone down and sighed. Every girl was going to inevitably have something about her that reminded him of Pam. Picking up the phone one more time, he told himself he would look at just one last profile before giving it up. At least he could tell Larissa he tried.
He swiped over to the next picture and shot up in bed.
She would be impossible not to compare to Pam.
Because it was Pam.
Story Notes:
I know, I know, I know. This all kind of started as a joke in my head then turned into a full-blown idea. But stick with me and hopefully you will like and will still take me seriously. A small note: I got married before dating apps existed, so I'm kind of making this up as I go while simultaneously hoping my husband doesn't see my search history about dating apps. And as mentioned in the summary, for the sake of the story, imagine season 3 happening about a decade after it actually did. Disclaimer: I don't own the office or any ideas about how dating apps actually work.
Chapter End Notes:
...so...there it is...
*backs away slowly*
(Also a big shoutout to emxgoldstars for the picture!)