Tengo una mala noticia
No fue de casualidad
Yo quería que nos pasara
Y tú, y tú lo dejaste pasar

[I have bad news
It was not by chance
I wanted it to happen to us
And you, and you let it happen]

“Nada fue un error” - Coti

---

He was focused on a new client, and the fact that he’d been for over 20 minutes on the phone, the fact that he was actually trying to do his job, was a little bit disconcerting.

But there was this thing about Jim when his head was on something, which rarely happened to tell the truth, that made it truly memorable. Like the office Olympics over a month ago. He would launch himself into it, and put all his creativity and resources to make the best out of it.

Only now it was about a sale, and Pam was confused. There had to be a reason for this to be so important, and she knew he would tell her, as soon as it was finished, but for the time being she couldn't help but feeling restless and curious.

23 minutes. Not that she was counting or anything, but she was bored. The Party Planning Committee had given tasks to almost everybody in preparation for Meredith birthday party that evening. Everybody but her. She was equally relieved and annoyed.

Just the day before, Angela had suspended her from said committee, after she’d caught Pam distracted by Jim during their meeting, right at the middle of something about the color of the streamers that, apparently, deserved her fullest attention.

It wasn’t entirely her fault. Should she be blamed for the fact that she had been the only one facing the window to the office? Was it her fault that Jim had noticed and had decided to write increasingly obnoxious requests on Dundler Mifflin’s uncoated 24 lb., to show her over Phyllis and Angela’s turned backs?

Tell them we’ll need confetti. Sparkling confetti

And fireworks. Big ones

3 banners… no, make it 4

Pam. Urgent. And then at the other side. FRENCH ONION CHIPS.

We need a rollercoaster. 4 realz

Inflatable dolls for Michael. 3 at least

Inflatable male-doll for Angela

That’s where she lost it. She couldn’t mask her laughter in a convincing cough, so she got a frowned glare from Phyllis. Angela turned her head so fast that it was a miracle her neck didn’t snap and Pam was 90% sure she managed to read, at least, her name on Jim’s sign, before he put it away and tried for an unsuccessful innocent expression.

And then Pam was suspended and unceremoniously thrown out the conference room.

So now she was to answer the phone while watching Angela standing on tiptoes trying to hang the banner - just one regular “Happy Birthday” banner - over the door.

And Jim, oh-I-have-a-thing-for-jelly-beans-that-makes-me-come-to-your-desk-every-half-an-hour-or-so, had been on the phone for 39 minutes, while diligently taking notes and, from time to time, searching for information on a catalogue opened on his desk.

To top it all, Roy had dropped by for less than 2 minutes to tell her that he wouldn’t stay for the party because he’d rather go hit the bar with Kenny and then maybe he’d stay at his place, Pammy, so they could leave for the lake early, and you have a good weekend.

And it hurt. Not, not really hurt. Just… bah. The fact that she seemed to be furthest from his thoughts and choices lately sucked. And yeah, maybe it hurt, too, in her pride, the little of it there was.

She had to wait for three more minutes until, finally.

Finally, Jim hung on the phone, sighed deeply and buried his face on his large hands.

Pam looked at him, almost jumping with curiosity. What had that been about? And then, as if he’d sensed her eyes fixed on him, he raised his head, met hers with his own green ones and beamed.

“What?” she mouthed.

And finally he approached her desk, took a green jellybean from the container and replayed that smile.

“So, Beesly, guess who’s our new client.”

“Ehm… the White House? Otherwise I don’t get why would you bother so much.”

“Try again. Try better and dirtier.”

“The union of garbage men of Pennsylvania?”

He made a very theatrical face palm. “No.”

“Then?”

Jim leaned over her counter and beaconed her to move forward. “Adam & Eve.”

“Huh? Did they have writing back then to begin with?”

“Adam & Eve sex toys,” he clarified. She felt her eyes open wide, and he continued. “It happens to be the largest chain of, uhm… adult entertainment in the state. So, not only I’ll get a nice commission but… guess who’ll be in charge of doing that piece of accounting.”

She gasped, laughter bubbling, and she glanced at Angela who was now carrying bags of chips from the kitchenette.

“She will actually have to write those receipts,” Jim added.

“Niiice,” she said.

"Consider it my revenge gift to you. No one kicks my Beesly out of a meeting and goes away with it.”

And without further ado, Jim turned around and headed to the restroom.

Leaving her there, frozen. His Beesly? Like… his? What did that mean? All right, he was literally the only person who called her Beesly, and she was the only one he’d call that but… his? Was it just a manner of speaking? Did he mean… something? At all?

His stomach gave a couple of funny jumps but she shook her head, took a couple of deep breaths, and opened a random unread email. It was just a manner of speaking, just that.

So… Meredith kept what she called “a healthy stash” in her van, which had nothing to do with granola bars or kale smoothies, and a lot to do with stuff you’ll need an ID to buy from a corner store. Part of it was donated to her own birthday party only five minutes after it started, despite Angela’s frown.

Meredith didn’t really spike the punch, but actually drowned it in strong unidentified alcohol, and then Creed decided to add syrup and now the thing was sweet, burned the back of your throat and made you see stars. Blurry stars.

The first cup Pam took was to help her get through Michael’s speech in honor of Meredith. Afterwards Pam claimed that this time he had surpassed himself on the amount of offences he could say per minute. Jim argued that this speech came close second to the one he gave at Oscar’s birthday and maybe he was right.

The second cup was offered to her just as Kelly was asking her why Roy wasn’t around. Without breathing, she gulped half of its contents and shrugged “who knows”. The second half followed suit.

Afterwards it got a little difficult to tell what did she talk about with Ryan, what made her give Stanley a hug and how many more cups of that maroon stuff went down her throat. Not that it really mattered, until…

“Whoa, Beesly, are you planning on drinking Meredith under the table?” Jim asked behind her back and she turned around to smile at him. Was it cup number 4? 5?

“Oh, I will,” she said trying to sound confident. “Don’t you think I can?”

Jim scratched his chin thoughtfully before answering. “You know you always have my full support, but in this case, I’m sorry but my money is on her.” He pointed at the improvised dancing floor where the birthday girl was jumping to the rhythm of “Let’s get loud”.

Pam chuckled. “Maaaybe you’re right. But you should support me, regar- regardless.”

“Oh yeah? And why is that?”

She took a half drunk, discarded cup from the nearby table and drained it, before leaning towards Jim. She had to stand on tiptoes and use his chest for balance in order to reach his ear. “Because I’m your Beesly, remember?”

At this she could swear he blushed, but she couldn't really look at him because she almost fell back. He steadied her with his arm and seemed to consider her for a moment. “Yeah, you are. But please stop drinking that crap.”

Pam grinned. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Now, did they get French onion or all my efforts went wasted?”

“They got BBQ. Just to annoy us.”

“They are evil.”

She nodded enthusiastically, which turned out to be a bad idea as her head started spinning.

“I’m getting a glass of water,” she said.

Maybe he would have followed her but Michael’s voice boomed behind them, “Jimbo!” which turned out to be for the best.

Stumbling against the counter, she barely made it into the bathroom before throwing up what felt to be much more than what she had drunk on the first place. It tasted terribly and left her head spinning so hard she had to lean on the tiled wall for support for a while.

With weak, trembling steps she managed to get back to the kitchen and poured herself two large glasses of water. The taste of Meredith’s concoction still lingered at the back of her tongue.

She succeeded in finding two quarters and, making efforts to focus on the little numbers of the vending machine, she got some gum. Slightly better, although the strong mint flavor made her a little nauseous again.

The party was in full swing, with Michael, Phyllis and the guy from downstairs who run the refrigerators company now joining Meredith on the dance floor. The rest was watching, Angela whispering angrily with Dwight on one corner. And Jim?

Jim was nowhere to be seen.

Pam went back to the restrooms and nocked. Nothing. The annex was almost empty but for whispers that sounded a lot like Ryan and Kelly so she fled as quickly as she could.

He was not at his desk or at hers, although his bag and coat were still on place. Had he gone to get something from his car, maybe?

She was about to go down the elevator when she saw that the small door of the supply closet at the end of the corridor was half open.

Sure enough, there he was, intently looking at brooms and a mop.

“Hey,” she greeted.

“Hi, come on in,” he said smiling. She could tell, from a little quivering of his voice, that he had had some of Meredith’s punch as well. Also because there was something a little exaggerated on the way he showed her into the tiny closet and closed the door behind her.

“Why are we hiding?” she whispered with a giggle.

“Not hiding, Beesly. I’m looking for inspiration!”

She turned around to make sure that, indeed, they were surrounded by cleaning supplies. It even smelled strongly like some detersive. Pine? Lemongrass?

“Inspiration?” She faced him again, although the small room made it difficult to maneuver.

“It’s been too long since I’ve last planned something on Dwight,” he lowered his voice to a low whisper and she imitated him.

“Yeah… 48 hours, isn’t it?”

“You offend me. 72 hours, actually, since the stapler incident.”

“That long?”

“Yup. And we don’t want him to get comfy, right?”

“Nope, we don’t.” She looked at him, at the bottles on the shelves at his back, their bright colors gleaming under the light of the single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. His eyes were bright, and fixed on hers, almost without blinking. She cleared her throat, but kept the whispering. “So, have you found it? Inspiration?”

“Not yet,” he sighed, and softly touched her forearm. “At least not the type I was looking for.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Pam raised her free hand and placed it on his chest, feeling bold and also a little overwhelmed under the intensity of his gaze. “At least now we know this place exists.”

"That’s very useful information,” he leaned closer.

“Knowledge is power,” she nodded, right before his lips met hers.

There were traces of salt on his lips. He tasted like BBQ, despite his claims that he didn’t like it. A moment after those very lips were opening, exploring hers, taking her lower one in an almost possessive way.

She opened her mouth to him, remembering a second to late that it was half-full of gum.

"What’s-?” he asked with a small laugh.

She took it with her fingers, but he stopped the gesture with his hand. “Wanna share?”

“Ok,” she murmured, putting it back inside her mouth, challenge in her eyes.

“Oh, Beesly,” he groaned, and the kiss grew deeper, as he pressed his body to hers. His tongue may or may not have found the gum, she didn’t care, as long as he kept on doing that and making her feel all sorts of warmth spreading through her body.

She couldn’t remember being kissed like this before, with such care, and intensity, and careful hands touching her cheeks, toying with her hair, staying for a moment on her neck to finally press her back, pulling her gently even closer…

After glorious hours, or maybe just too short a moment, he drew back a little.

“Whoa,” she managed to whisper.

“Whoa back at you,” he said with a grin. And then, nonchalantly, he popped the gum. Her gum.

“Very sneaky,” she said with a giggle.

“I have some skills,” he shrugged, and she giggled again, not sure of what to say or what to do. Suddenly the empty space between their bodies felt cold, and wrong, and she all but wanted to grab his tie and pull him forward back to his lips, only-

“Do you think the party is over?” he asked, and he reached for the handle of the door.

And that felt even worse.

“Maybe,” she managed to say. He stepped into the hallway, and she had to take a deep breath before following him.

The moment she was outside the supply room, it hit her, like a ton of bricks. Roy. She was supposed to be with Roy. She was engaged to Roy, for crying out loud.

Jim was walking towards the office, and then turned around. “You coming?” His voice sounded normal, but his eyes didn’t meet hers. Was he regretting this? Was he remembering Roy as well, almost as if that closet had held a spell that had made them conveniently forget reality and get lost on an amazing world of 16 square feet?

She followed without a word, and he held the door open for her as they entered the office. Michael was singing an old country song, Meredith slumped against his shoulder, and Pam decided she had had enough. After that kiss, everything would be downhill, and she didn’t want to have to be taken home by a reproving Angela, who, by the way, was nowhere to be seen.

“I think I’ll call it a night,” Jim said from behind her, and he reached towards his desk to get his bag.

“Yeah, me too.”

“D’you want to share a taxi?”

Pam nodded, and he reached for his phone to call it.

They rode down the elevator in silence, while she wondered what exactly had gone wrong… besides the fact that she had cheated on her fiancée. But, strangely enough, she was having difficulties feeling how wrong this was supposed to be. It just didn’t hit her. The only overwhelming feeling was that she missed Jim’s body against hers, and it seemed there was no room inside her for any other thought.

The taxi hadn’t arrived and she and Jim stood side by side next to the front door.

“So…,” he finally spoke, and she felt relieved that he wouldn’t stay silent for the rest of the night. “Where is Roy?”

On second thought, maybe silence was not that bad.

“I don't know,” she shrugged, trying to sound indifferent and finding, to her surprise, that this was not a foreign emotion regarding her fiancée. “Out drinking with his brother. Or maybe on the way to the lake for the weekend. Or something like that… I really don’t know.”

“I’m sorry to hear it,” Jim said, his eyes fixed on the gated to the parking lot.

“Are you?” because it didn't seem like it inside that small closet, she wanted to add.

“I’m not sorry he’s not here,” he clarified, scratching his neck in what Pam had learn to recognize as a nervous gesture. “I’m sorry you’re having a bad time because of that.”

She nodded. It seemed like words were taking longer than usual to reach her brain. “Actually,” she started, as her own thought slowly formed inside her head. “The funny part is I wasn’t having a bad time without him.”

“No?”

“No. The opposite, maybe.”

“Huh,” Jim buried his hands on his pockets and didn’t say a thing until the cab parked in front of them.

He opened the door for her and gave directions to the driver. She had the impression his mind was somewhere else, but she didn’t know how to ask, and didn’t like the fact that there was other person. And yet the way his leg was jumping, and his eyebrows frowned, made her open her mouth at least three times, just to close it without a clue of what to say.

Too soon, the car was parking at the curb of hers and Roy’s house, dark and empty, and unwelcoming. She wanted to say out loud that she'd rather stay in the car, or wait outside the office building or… well, anywhere, if he happened to be there as well, but she didn’t know how.

So, silently, she followed as he exited the car and held the door open for her. And watched as he climbed back in.

“Well, bye,” she muttered.

“Yeah, bye.” She turned around, slowly, but then he called for her. “Pam?” He reached out, and held her wrist. “You know, this… what happened, it wasn’t a mistake, all right?”

“A mistake…?”

“Don’t wake up tomorrow thinking it was a mistake. Because it wasn’t.”

“Ok. It wasn’t,” she agreed firmly, and he finally smiled and let her go.

No quiero que me perdones
Y no me pidas perdón
No me niegues que me buscaste
Nada, nada de esto
Nada de esto fue un error

[I don’t want you to forgive me
And don’t ask for my forgiveness
Don’t deny that you went looking for me
Nothing, none of this
None of this was a mistake]

“Nada fue un error” - Coti

---

“This was a mistake,” Pam mumbled aloud, through dry lips, to the empty space in her bed.

Her room was spinning, and she was torned between a much needed glass of water or three and the urge to move as little as possible, to stop disturbing a head that seemed to be bothered by everything. The ray of light coming from under the curtain, the bird chirping outside, the soft pillow she had chosen instead of a hard one.

I’m never ever ever drinking Meredith’s stuff again, she thought, and the effort of producing the idea seemed to be enough to make her want to shut off her brain for good.

Still, she needed to go to the bathroom.

For a moment she seriously considered peeing the bed. How bad could it be? But then the thought of having to change the sheets made her stand up, very slowly, and walk to the bathroom. Last night she had managed to change her skirt for pyjama pants, but she was still wearing the shirt she had yesterday at work. And one sock.

And her face. Ugh, she didn’t want to consider how deep and dark were the bags under her eyes, or the greenish color of her skin. After taking a glass of water and washing her teeth, Pam went back to bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

---

It took Jim three scrambled eggs, two glasses of orange juice and several pieces of toast to start feeling like a human being again.

A very confused and yet elated human being.

In his mind, and despite the slight headache, he couldn’t help to replay the previous day. How she had smiled after he told him about the new account he had scored for Angela. How he had let it slip that “my Beesly” thing, and for a wild moment he had thought he’d ruined it by saying too much. But then he had looked at her from the break room and he had caught her smiling, biting her teeth, in that way he knew so well. The way she smiled when she was very happy about something. It could have been just an email she was reading, but maybe, maybe it had been him the one that had made her smile like that.

Then the party, and how she looked for him, and how her bodies seemed to find one another. Blame the booze, of course, but still. How was the Latin thing? In vino veritas or something? There was booze, all right, but there was also Pam and Jim. And her body casually pressed against his side while they watched the party, and how she had whispered in his ear, more than once, and how she had even leaned against him to get closer.

He would need a cold shower, soon.

Especially because now his thoughts were on that supply room.

What on earth had made him kiss her, he had no idea. Booze had had, again, a part to play, but then there were her eyes, shining bright, her smile, directed at him, the fact that she didn’t seem to mind to be this close, how she would tease him and laugh with him in the same sentence, and how her body felt warm, even when they weren’t really touching.

At the time it seemed like the only logical thing to do. His lips had all but agree, and his hands were this close to cheer at the possibility of touching her skin, her hair… this was no peck on the lips that caught him unprepared, like that other time at the Dundies. This was deliberate, slow, passionate, and now he really needed that cold shower.

Under the water he kept on thinking. He had stopped the kiss. He had to stop, because he had been so close to sliding his hand under her shirt. The promise of warm skin, of finding the clasp of her bra and letting it loose, of hearing her moan, was too much. Too tempting. So, reluctantly, he had to pull away, only to find her eyes still closed, and the most perfect, wildly happy smile he had ever seen.

And then, the moment she opened those bright eyes he became fully aware of the harsh truth.

She was not his Beesly, even though he had been calling her that in his head for a while now. No. She belonged to somebody else. She was engaged. And very drunk.

And while his entire body yelled in protest as he walked away, his brain tried his best to control the situation. Calm down, guys. She’s not mine. She’s with somebody that is so wrong in so many levels it hurts.

But he couldn’t leave her. He couldn’t just go away, not only because he didn’t want to be far from her, even if far only meant a ten-minute drive. He needed to know what this night was all about. Where was Roy. Where was she, in terms of Roy?

There were two things he could assume from her answer. She was angry. Or, more accurately, annoyed. And Roy was still in the picture, even though she wasn’t really enthusiastic about it. Which could mean that the kiss was just revenge... but no. There had been something else, Jim was sure of it. Something about the kiss had been entirely Jim and Pam's.

He would have needed a six-hour drive, at least, to clear his mind. To set a course of action. But the taxi had pulled next to her house many hours too soon, and he hadn’t known what to say, especially when realizing that his silence could have been read by her in a number of ways, not all of them positive.

Panic stricken, he barely managed to grab her, to tell her to please, please, don’t regret this in the morning. Because it can’t be possible that kissing her was a mistake, when it felt so right.

Would she regret it? Would she even remember it? He never knew if she remembered that kiss at the Dundies. They never talked about it and he was too much of a coward to ask. Still, this was different. She had to remember.

Nervously, he fidgeted with his cell. He wanted to call her, to make sure… to make sure she was ok? Just to hear her voice?

She was probably asleep. Or out. Or doing something. Or full of regrets. And he needed to get his car back. Exercise would be good to eliminate the rests of alcohol from his body and to distract him from the memory of that body. Thinking that, he grabbed his bike and took a very long route to the office’s parking lot.

---

When Pam opened her eyes again the clock on her nightstand told her it was close to midday. Her headache was still in place, but she felt a little less confused and the room seemed to have stopped spinning.

She stood up and made her way slowly towards the kitchen, where she took another glass of water and a couple of aspirins. The light pouring through the living room windows felt harsh, but, little by little, she was starting to feel normal. Almost.

What did Meredith keep on those bottles was anybody’s guess. And the results of mixing several of them together… well, Pam was in no rush to repeat the experience. She still felt as if the smell of it was on her.

Not as slowly, she headed back to the bathroom and let the water on the shower run for a while. While taking off her clothes - really, that shirt was almost ruined - she tried to piece together the birthday party. Booze, Michael saying stuff that, she was sure, could land him in court if somebody from corporate happened to be listening, Jim laughing next to her, more booze.

And then, the moment she entered the shower, it slapped her.

Jim. Jim’s hands. Jim’s eyes, Jim’s lips all over hers. She remembered, all of it. How she had entered the closet, how they had talked, lightly, and especially how he had kissed her. She felt heat that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water, and she remembered the texture of his hand on her neck and how she had felt… something. Something different, and new, and so right.

Only, it was wrong.

For all intents and purposes, she, Pam Beesly, had cheated on her fiancée. On the man with whom she had been for almost ten years.

On a man that had said he loved her… yesterday? No, not really. He left but he didn’t really say… still. Still. And then she realized she had been standing under the water for a while, so she started scrubbing. Yeah, so she couldn’t really remember when had been the last time he had said “I love you”. Or the last time they had shared a kiss, a real kiss. She was not going to compare any of Roy’s to last night’s because last night was completely off the charts different, but she could compare it to… No, again, she couldn’t remember. And sex? Last week? Maybe. Enjoyable? Yeah, sort of… But her mind was betraying her, taking her to an imaginary place where Jim’s hands and Jim’s lips traced the same paths she was tracing on her body right now, and making her feel… what, exactly?

She stepped out of the shower, and with much more force than needed, dried herself and got into yoga pants and a large t-shirt.

Pam just needed some food. And a movie or two. She needed to remind herself that she had promised to marry the man smiling from the picture on the nightstand, and that they’d been very happy together for the past years. Almost a lifetime, really.

Not in the mood for cooking, she ordered Chinese takeout, and since she was going to spend the weekend on her own, she could very well had a lot of that. And sure enough, after some spring rolls and fried rice, she tried to imagine that last night had been one of those things you make when you’re drunk, and stupid, and maybe even missing your fiancée?

No, that part didn’t felt right. She wasn’t thinking about Roy when she kissed Jim.

Back then, there had been just them, their bodies, their feelings for each other.

Their what?

Pam stopped eating, the shrimp midway to her mouth, as she considered that last thought.

What feelings? Jim was her friend, right? And of course, she loved his friendship, and the fact that he was always there for her, like yesterday when he got that sex shop account as a revenge. Or that time when he had just sat in silence next to her. Had he known she had been crying about Roy in the restrooms? Or at the Dundies, when she had hugged him, happy for winning such a silly prize. And she had kissed him.

Ugh!

She changed the movie. Legally Blond was a movie she knew by heart, and it was easy to get distracted. No, she needed a change of scenery. She needed to keep herself busy.

So Pam went to the store and got enough stuff to keep a family for a month, she stopped by the bookstore and got herself a paperback on how to draw hands, taking her time to browse the shelves. She even entered Old Navy and got herself another shirt, in case the smell of alcohol never left the one she had worn the day before. All of that while avoiding thinking. All of that while trying to remember the times Roy had been right for her.

When she got home again, there were three things she knew for a fact. There was too much softener in her house, she should’ve bought a pair of jeans, and her last happy, truly happy memory with Roy was from, at least, three years ago. And she wasn’t even talking about that joke of a proposal during the time out of the super bowl.

She was angry. Frustrated. Angry at Roy, and even at Jim, because he was so much better, and frustrated with herself and her lack of remorse.

And that’s when her phone buzzed.

She thought it was Roy, checking in, telling her he would be home late on Sunday because he was having a great time or something like that. But no, it was Jim.

How’s that hangover?

Just that. As if he hadn’t kiss the daylights out of her less than 24 hours before. As is he hadn’t tipped her world upside down because of that.

How’s yours? Her fingers type back before she could overthink it.

Nonexistent.

Ugh. I hate you.

No, you don’t.

Ok. Maybe I don’t. But I don’t like you either.

Fair enough.

And just as easy, she was beaming, and all worries seemed to have melted. They were still there, of course, but not as important any more.

What are you up to? Was his next message.

Not much. Went shopping. I’m just back for Chinese and a movie.

Right then, the phone started ringing and, out of shock, she dropped it. When she saw his name on the screen, she wanted to leave it there on the floor, but she grabbed it and it hadn’t reached the second ring when she managed to open the lid.

“Hey,” she said, shakily.

“Tired fingers,” he replied.

“Oh. They say there is an injury for typing too much on your phone.”

“Exactly my point. So… headache?”

“Not as much. How much did I have?” she shouldn’t have asked that. She shouldn’t talk about last night at all, and yet, the words came out and it was too late.

“Booze? No idea. A lot?” He said with a chuckle.

“Feels like it.”

“I supposed as much.”

For a moment nobody spoke. Pam felt she needed to say something that would keep him speaking, because that meant she would be thinking at whatever he was saying and not at his lips or the fact that she was dating somebody else or that they-

“So… do you wanna come over?” Her words came out and her heart stop for a moment.

“Absolutely, yes.”

Los errores no se eligen
Para bien o para mal
No fallé cuando viniste, y tu, y tu
No quisiste fallar

[Mistakes are not chosen
For better or worse
I didn’t fail when you came, and you, and you
You didn’t want to fail.]

“Nada fue un error” - Coti

---

It took Jim three minutes to take an extra shower, two minutes to get dressed and less than eight to drive to Pam’s neighborhood. All the while thinking that this meant nothing, that she was lonely, that it made sense to call her best friend for a movie since they were both doing nothing.

Just that. Lower your expectations. Better yet, made them disappear. The problem was that the moment she had asked him to come over his heart had jumped, and it hadn’t stopped doing funny stuff since.

He was driving to Pam’s. On a Saturday. To spend time with her.

Pam and Roy’s he forced himself to admit. As far as he knew, they were still together, and yesterday… well yesterday had been that. A memory to keep him warm on a lonely night, or whatever. So, better to expect nothing of this but a good time with a friend.

If last night he had needed a much longer drive to organize his thoughts, tonight he was urging the car to go faster, and his brain to shut up. And yet, at the last minute, he decided to go to the store and get a few things… stuff to help him be his usual self. And no alcohol.

Still, soon enough he was there and she opened the door, and for a moment there was hesitation on both sides.

“Hey!”

“Hi.” Should he hug her or anything? What’s the protocol on these situations?

No expectations, Jim. Act normal. Only, he couldn’t really recall what normal was supposed to be like.

“You didn’t have to go grocery shopping for me, that’s too kind,” Pam beat him to it, looking at the two bags with a smile threatening to become a laugh. “Besides, I went shopping earlier today. Come on in.”

“So you’re not at all interested on what’s inside these,” he walked behind her, into a small sitting room and an open kitchen.

“Well… if you reeeally want to show me.”

“Nah. It’s ok. You made your point,” he started to tie a knot on one of the bags, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Ok, ok, sorry. Let me see.”

“Say please.”

“Pretty please with sugar on top, could I take a look?”

“I guess,” he shrugged, but he was unable to pretend for long. “Here, he pointed at the bags, are the essentials for an ice cream buffet.”

“Oh, nice!”

As she took out the ice cream, marshmallows, chocolate syrup and the likes, he glanced around. He had never been here and the place looked reasonably tidy and nice but it struck him how little of Pam there was on display. How little of anything, really.

On the lonely shelf sat a bunch of pictures and some high school memorabilia. Jim walked closer to see a couple of family shots, and a prom picture portraying a much younger version of Pam and Roy. The only two pictures hanging on the wall were a photo of a cheering crowd and another one of a nondescript landscape, like those that come when you buy new frames. Almost as if these was one of those apartments you rent fully furnished, and that thought annoyed him. Where was she? His Beesly?

“Jim?”

He felt heat on his face. “Sorry. Zoned out for a sec.”

“I asked if you want me to put this away for desert or if you want to do it backwards.”

“Let’s get that Chinese food first.”

They spoke very little, while sitting down on the couch - Noodles? Rice? - and starting the movie. Jim was not really into watching it. Sure, Big Fish was a nice movie, and Pam seemed to be completely into it, but he was too distracted. First, her presence, feet on the coffee table, only moving to grab her glass of water, or to leave the box of noodles, that soft smell he sometimes got a whiff of, when arriving to the office. Even though they were sitting at a respectable distance from one another, he could swear he was feeling warmth coming from her body. And then there were the questions, thousands of them running around his brain.

Why did she ask him to come? Did she have a plan or was that a spur of the moment thing, from somebody who just wanted some company? Had she done it because she had been alone on a small apartment that looked so foreign to her? An apartment in which it didn’t seem to be any real presence of her?

Except for the book. He had spotted the Barnes & Noble bag and had not waited for her permission to see what was inside. He looked at the book on how to draw hands for a second before she put it back on the bag, blushing slightly, saying it was silly.

That was the other part missing. Jim had, on occasion, glanced inside Pam’s drawers at the office. There was always a colored pencil or two, lying around. A notebook. Carbon pencils. Not exactly all over the place, but there. And he had seen her use them when the office got quiet and she thought nobody would pay attention to her sketching.

When the movie finished, they remained silent for a long moment. He wanted to say something. A clever comment about the argument and fantasy or whatever, but he didn’t find the words. Pam was still looking at the screen, even though she had paused it on the score. And then, she sighed.

“What?” Jim asked.

“Nothing,” she begun to stand up.

“No, wait. What?” he touched her wrist, only for a second, and he remembered how he had practically clung to it, only the night before.

Pam took her seat back, and shook her head. “I don’t know… isn’t… isn’t this how life’s supposed to be?”

“Like the fat guy?” Jim asked, genuinely confused.

“No, not the movie. I meant this,” she gestured at the table, full of empty boxes of food; at the small pile of videos, and finally at them. “You know. Watching a movie. Actually deciding what movie to watch, and what to eat, and…” she trailed off.

Jim was confused, but he thought he could see where all of this was going. Still, he didn’t know if he wanted to go there. He didn’t know if he wanted to listen how Roy was not good for her and he didn’t want to feel his blood boil at how unfair the whole situation was.

“Well… you’re kinda alive, so… maybe I’m wrong but I’ll take a wild guess here and say this is life.” He needed for her to be the Pam that would shake it off and go back to where they would joke around one another.

“This isn’t how my life usually is.”

And here we go, Jim thought, looking at his own feet. Another round of being the supportive friend. The fucking supportive friend.

“And I’m sick of it,” Pam suddenly said, her voice strong.

Jim’s entire body froze. Only his eyes reacted, to search for hers at once. She was looking ahead, at the frozen words at the screen.

“Wha-?”

“I’m sick of having to settle. I went to do some grocery shopping earlier, you know? And suddenly I realized my cart was full of Roy’s beer, the meat Roy likes, Roy’s salad dressing… and it’s like second nature!” her hands were in fists now. “As if it was normal for me to be here and think about him. As if it’s ok for him to go to the lake, and barely asking if that was ok with me. ‘You’ll get bored, Pammy.’ Of course I will, if you’re drinking yourself stupid with your brother! I’m sick of agreeing to watch Roy’s choice of movie, because if we watch what I want to, he’ll go to do something else because ‘that’s your movie, Pammy, I’m bored’. I’m sick of… of boredom. Of not being excited about anything. You know?”

He had no idea what to say about that, but he felt she was waiting for an answer of any sort. “For what is worth…” Jim spoke softly, “when you told me to come over tonight, well… my heart started to beat, pretty fast. I was pretty excited. And yeah, I think that and this,” he repeated her gesture over the movies and the food, “this is how life is supposed to be.”

“My heart was beating, too.” She finally turned her body to face him, her knee on the couch between them. “When you said you’d come.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t even dared to believe that she actually was feeling these things and, moreover, saying them aloud. To him.

“Like, yesterday,” she went on. “Inside the closet. You made me feel… I mean… this is going to sound lame but I’ve never been kissed like that. Or… well, it’s never felt like that before.”

“Like what?”

“Like… like fire. Like you meant it.”

“Well,” slowly, he leaned a little closer. “That’s the way you should be kissed.”

“Maybe that’s why it felt so right,” she was even closer, those lips ready to be his, once more.

And maybe yesterday had been a thing people do when they’re drunk but now… now she would remember every second of it, every feeling he could convey on one kiss.

Slowly, he cupped her face, and with the tip of his thumb, he traced her cheek, enjoying how soft it felt, then he traced her lower lip, and heard her gasp, her eyes never leaving his. He could get lost in those eyes and just pull her into him, but he continued, slowly, lingering at the corner of her lip and drawing closer. His hand moved to the side of her neck and now, it was the turn of his lips, kissing the spot his thumb had just left. Slowly. Actually feeling the soft texture, and how her lips started to move to meet his. Excruciatingly slow.

She traced his lower lip with hers, gently, and he pulled her closer. From somewhere he felt one hand on his knee, and it would have been so very distracted if he hadn’t been almost completely focused on more important things.

The moment she opened her mouth and traced his lip again, but with the tip of her tongue, he could swear his body was in flames. He took that tongue with his lips, and then met it with his, vaguely remembering the night before and how on earth had he managed to steal that gum was still a mystery. But there was no time to think about that because Pam's mouth was opening for him again and his other hand splayed across her back to draw her closer. He had no time to think about anything, really, but just let his body take charge and enjoy the experience for a moment.

Finally, he drew back a little, without letting her go.

“You shouldn’t be just kissed, Pam. You should be worshipped. You should feel that fire, and be sure that your own fire is there, felt by somebody who just can't believe how lucky he is because he’s being kissed by you.”

He noticed she was holding a fistful of his t-shirt, and imagining how that had happened made him kiss her again, briefly. “You are so incredibly amazing, so strong and wonderful,” another kiss, “and it kills me that you seem not to even notice it.”

When he pulled again, there were unshed tears in her eyes. “You are so great, Jim.”

“Maybe it’s just that I… that I have a major crush on you.”

Despite of the tears, she let out a small giggle. “That’s convenient. Because I kinda do, too.”

Aprendí la diferencia
Entre el juego y el azar
Quién te mira y quién se entrega
Nada, nada de esto
Nada de esto fue un error

[I learned the difference
Between game and play
Who looks at you and who gives themselves to you
Nothing, none of this
None of this was a mistake.]

“Nada fue un error” - Coti

---

Her knuckles were white on the wheel and she could feel she was frowning. Partly in concentration. She had to focus on the dark road. Partly because of the thoughts and memories racing up and down her brain.

No matter how hard she tried to put them aside, or how high the volume of the radio was, her thoughts were there, unwilling to give it a rest.

She had driven for twenty minutes before realizing she needed gas. And a strong coffee. It was after midnight after all. The only thing that she could argue as a reason for driving the interstate, on her own, was that she was insane.

The next 45 minutes passed in a blur.

She tied to marshal her arguments. From the beginning- no, no, forget about that disastrous first date. Focus on the things that go bad now. On the daily stuff. On the fact that he was there, at the lake, one-hour drive away, while Jim was-

No. There was no thinking about Jim, either. Or his lips. Or his hands. Or his words.

She had royally screwed things up with Jim. But she had screwed things up with Roy, too, or was about to. So better forget all about Jim showing up at her house - their house - and how he had touched her, and kissed her-

Her thighs felt hot. Maybe even wet. If she kept on thinking about what happened or, worse, what could have happened, she was going to start driving in zig zag and how do you explain the police that, no, this is not DUI, but a completely different kind of intoxication.

Finally, the familiar exit to the lake, where Kenny kept a small cabin. At pass 1 in the morning, she was not really sure what she would find, but she was tired, and sick of having to wait and just- she needed to solve it all, and now.

Fortunately, there was light in the porch of the cabin, and she could distinguish three figures sitting at a table. As she drove up the gravel path, all three men looked up.

Pam’s eyes searched Roy’s, ignoring the other two.

“Pammy?” she wondered if he was drunk, and if he ever really listened the times she had told him she doesn’t really like being called like that. “What are you doing here?”

“Yeah, how come you’re here?” Kenny wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was not particularly happy to see her.

“I need to talk to you, Roy,” she emphasized on the name.

The third man shrugged. “Game was over anyway, come on,” and he shoved Kenny inside the cabin. Pam focused for a moment on the table. Sure enough, there were poker chips and cards and, to her relief, only three empty bottles of beer.

“What’s up, babe?” Roy walked towards her. She had not left the side of her car.

“Are you drunk?” she asked, just to be sure.

“No, but what if I was? I’m staying here, right?”

“Just making sure.”

“Not drunk. We are planning on hitting the lake tomorrow morning. Best keep a clean head. So, what’s this all about.”

She sighed. This was it.

“Wait a minute,” Roy cut across as she just opened her mouth to speak. “Did you drive all the way here, on your own, in the middle of the night? Have you gone crazy?”

“I… what?”

“What if you’d crashed?”

“That’s not the point.” For a second she was touched. Was he really worried about her?

“The hell it is. We can’t afford to have the car repaired!” No. He really wasn’t.

“Ok. Shut up and listen, Roy.”

“What?”

“I don’t think we should keep on doing- I don’t want to be with you anymore.” There, she said it. Pam braced herself for what was going to come, but Roy was just looking at her, almost as if he was giving time for her words to really sink in.

“Ok,” he finally spoke. “Why don’t you get inside, you can sleep here, and we’ll talk in the morning.”

“No, I’m going back to Scranton tonight.”

“No, you’re not. I’m not letting you drive back-”

“You don’t get to let me do things or not. I just drove all the way here to tell you that I don’t think we should be together anymore. And that’s that. I’m leaving.”

“Pam, you’re not making any sense. Just get back inside and tomorrow we-”

“Would you listen? We can’t be together. We just… we’re not right for each other. And it doesn’t feel good anymore. It hasn’t for a long time now. And I’m just… tired and-”

“It’s one in the morning. Of course you’re tired! You don’t make decisions like that at one in the morning!”

“I haven’t just made this decision,” she hadn't really thought about this before, but now that she was saying it aloud, it only made sense. “This has been in the making for… oh, I can’t even tell you how long. Every time I wanted to take an art class and you’d say it’s just a waste of time. Every time you went away and didn’t even ask me if that’s ok. Every stupid joke you make with “the guys” about banging this or that. Trust me, Roy, this… breaking up with you makes sense. It has for a long time.”

“But why coming all of the sudden to tell me this now? In the middle of the night?”

“Because…” Because I’ve been cheating on you, she thought. But instead, “because it’s not fair to you to keep on thinking everything’s ok when it’s not.”

“Is there someone else?” Roy voice was urgent, almost a yell, as if he’d read her mind.

She just shook her head, unable to lie to his face. “This is just about me. About the way I’ve changed since high school and you too, but not in the same way…” Pam trailed off.

Roy just looked at her, and she had the feeling he was really looking at her for the first time in a very long time. “So, what are you saying.”

“I’m saying I can’t be with you anymore.” She fidgeted with the engagement ring for a moment, twisting it on her finger, before finally taking it out. “You should have this.”

Her finger felt strange. As if there was too much air around it.

“You paid for half of it,” he said, mechanically.

“I know.”

“Keep it then. I have no use for it,” his gaze dropped but he didn’t move.

Pam looked at the ring, sitting on her palm, and for a moment considered just dropping it into the lake. But she pocketed it. Maybe she could use the money, since she was going to move anyway.

The silence stretched, she had no idea what to say and she felt she needed to apologize. Which, to some extent, she did, but about something she was not going to talk about with Roy. Ever.

“I’ll be out of the house before you return tomorrow,” she said at last.

Roy didn’t move. Pam hesitated, until finally she turned around and got inside the car. Slowly, she turned the engine on and was about to drive when she heart taps on the window.

“Wait, stop!”

She rolled the window down.

“Pammy- wait. We have a whole life together. A life planned ahead, for the both of us.”

“Do we, really?”

“Why are we getting married then?”

“I don’t know anymore,” she said. “You tell me.”

“I-” Roy looked around, as if the darkened trees would have an answer. “Well- too many years, right? And afterwards we get to be a family?”

“And how does that change things?”

“What is it that you want to change so much?” he said, a note of desperation in his voice.

Pam sighed. “Everything.”

Roy looked blankly at her for a long moment. And then, after a sigh, he turned around and with heavy steps, he entered the cabin.

Pam realized she was trembling. As she closed the window, a sob escaped her. With the same urge that made her decide she needed to go and see Roy, now she knew she needed to leave.

Back to Scranton.

By the time she reached the house, it was over three in the morning. She had needed to stop twice for Kleenex, a fix of coffee and a coke, and now she felt jittery and restless.

She knew she wasn’t going to be able to sleep now, even though she felt tired.

What she didn’t expect was to feel so empty and lonely on a house that should be so very familiar. There were no traces of Jim having been there hours ago. She hadn’t really expected him to wait for her, but it felt as if there was a void. He had left. Of course he would have left, Pam shook her head angrily. Still, it felt wrong.

He had been kissing her again, and she had replied in kind, finally free to say that she liked him, that she had waited so long for this. His hands had found the hem of her t-shirt and had slithered under it, sending hot waves up her back. He had been touching, freely, grazing the sides of her breasts while his tongue, insistent, had been moving with hers, entering her mouth and claiming new territories on her neck.

And that’s when her eyes had snapped open and rested on the prom picture. It was cheesy, so old, and both she and Roy were smiling with abandonment. Almost unrecognizable.

“Stop, Jim. Stop.”

He had panted, “what?” his hands still inside her t-shirt, not moving.

“This is… this is wrong. Not fair to Roy… or to you…” Pam had managed to stand up. “I’m sorry, Jim. So, so sorry. But I gotta go. I just… I can’t.”

And then she had grabbed her keys and bag, and mere seconds later she was driving towards the interstate.

For the first time since, Pam checked her phone. 3 missed calls from Jim. None from Roy. And a text message from Jim, from a little over one hour ago.

I just need to know you’re ok. Pls.

It made her heart shrink a little. And guilt, bitter and hot, bubbled inside her.

I’m ok. I’m back home.

Jim’s answer came seconds later. Good. I was worried.

He had been awake. His phone maybe inches from his hand. He had been waiting for her.

Pam looked at the screen, wondering if she should write something else, but her fingers felt numb and her head empty.

Roy with you? His message startled her.

She never said she was going to meet Roy, but somehow he had guessed.

No. I’m not with him.

She hit “send” but she wasn’t really satisfied with the answer. Would he understand? But she was tired of wondering and of having him wonder.

I’m not with him anymore. We broke up.

There. Much clearer.

He didn't reply. Eventually she stopped looking at the screen and headed for the bathroom. Maybe a shower and fresh clothes could help.

She was covered in foam when the phone buzzed again and she had to dry her trembling hands before picking up.

Can I call you?

Yeah.

Without really thinking if she would catch a cold or that later she would have to mop the floor, she wrapped herself on a towel just as the phone rang.

“Hey,” she said, frustrated that her voice sounded weak and echoed on the bathroom walls.

“Hey. You ok?”

She nodded, and after a moment she spoke. “I am, yeah. Confused, kinda. Like… maybe this is a dream.”

“A bad one?”

“A very weird one.”

He sighed at the other side of the line.

“Well,” he finally said. “You know what they say can help. When you have weird dreams.”

Something in his tone of voice made her smile.

“What’s that?”

“Midnight snack, obviously.”

She chuckled. “How didn’t I think of that?”

“And the best part is, you already have like three different flavors of ice cream in your fridge.”

“That I have, yeah. Wait, wasn’t that part of the dream?”

He chuckled this time. “I think that part was real.”

She sighed. “You know what, I’m gonna do just that. Ice cream extravaganza with marshmallows.”

“That’s m- that’s a girl.”

She didn’t speak for a moment. Her fingertips were a little wrinkled from the hot water and there was a large puddle on the floor.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Jim’s voice took her out of her reverie.

“Oh. Ok.”

“Ok. Have a nice-”

“Wait,” her heart started jumping again. A deja-vú of sorts.

“Wait what?”

“As I recall, it was a lot of ice cream. Like… tons of it.”

“What’s the point of having just one flavor?”

“Yeah… listen. I know it’s late. Or early. Or… what if you’d came over again? Since you’re awake…”

“That’s a lot to ask.”

“Oh.” Oh. “Yeah… probably-”

He chuckled. “Gimme 10 minutes.”

Pam stared at the silent phone in her hand until she realized that 10 minutes wasn’t really a lot of time. Barely enough for her to finish her interrupted shower and dry the floor using Roy’s old towel.

When he knocked at her door, she had just put a fresh t-shirt and pants on.

Jim was looking at his feet, and as he entered and closed the door behind him, he looked at her through his fringe, almost as if he was feeling guilty himself.

“I broke up with Roy,” she stated, although he already knew that.

It sounded much harsher when said aloud.

Without a word, he just hugged her, and she felt relieved that she could bury herself on his hoodie and feel his hands tracing circles on her back. There was nothing hot about it, nothing enticing. Just comfort and familiarity, just like what coming home should feel like.

“I’m sorry, Pam,” he whispered after a long moment.

“Why?” she didn’t want to raise her head from where it was comfortably located, even though she wanted to look at him. Still, her body won and she decided to stay put.

“You’re sad.”

She sighed, and finally, she pulled from Jim’s body and took his hand to guide him into the living room.

“I’m sad,” she finally said, once they were sitting on the couch. The couch where they had kissed just hours ago, only it felt like months. “But also relieved. And tired… I can’t believe I actually thought about marrying him.”

“Well,” he said slowly, “you were in love.”

“Not really. Not for a long time…” she trailed off, her eyes on the carpet. Movement next to her made her look up. Jim was walking to the other side of the partition.

“Ice cream, remember?” he offered as an explanation, and she joined him in getting plates and spoons.

Instead of going back to the couch, they sat at the table.

“I think I liked the idea of being married.” She continued the interrupted answer. “And there is this familiarity that comes with being with somebody for so long. But that’s all there was. And some memories,” she played with one marshmallow, pressing it between her fingers. “But, at the end of the day, I want more than that.”

“What do you want, Pam?” He asked, his eyes serious.

“I want to…” I want to kiss you senseless, was the first thought that came into her mind, but she stopped herself. This was not how things should be, jumping from one man to another. This had to be about her before it had a chance to be about them. “I want to take art lessons. I want to have a place to draw. Do you realize there is no place for me to do that in here? If I want to draw, I have to dig my stuff out of a drawer and try not to annoy Roy so much, because otherwise he’ll be in a bad mood. It takes the fun out of drawing. Then, I want to say what’s on my mind. I want to be allowed to do that, instead of staying quiet while people joke about women’s bodies or whatever bothers me. I want… I don’t know, Jim. I want to find out what I want. You know?”

Jim nodded.

“It’s like…” she continued, “when you and I plan a prank, I get to be listened. You actually ask for my opinions, or let me do the planning, or… you know… you get me.” The intensity of his gaze became too much and she stared at the ice cream melting on her plate. “Because you take time to listen and to notice. God that’s why I love being with you. Because when I’m with you, I get to be myself.”

She hadn’t realized how much she had said until she felt his fingers on her, gently taking the marshmallow.

“I love it when it’s you who do the planning,” he said, and she looked into his eyes. “I love it when it’s your idea, and you smile with your eyes because you can’t wait to see it through. I love the way you draw, and how you sometimes show me, and… God, Pam, I’m the luckiest man alive because I get to share that with you.” He cleared his throat. “So, that’s just moments during work hours. Imagine what you will be capable of with the entire day, your entire life, to find out what you can be on your own.”

She sighed. Her heart was beating madly and her hand trembled slightly. How many times had he said “love”?

“Well, that’s the thing, too.” She said, and it was costing her an enormous effort to hold his gaze.

“What?”

“That I don’t want to do it on my own.” Slowly, she took his free hand. “I want to be with you, and plan stuff with you, and get to know myself better with you.”

He pressed her fingers with his and chuckled. “Your table is annoyingly big.”

And with a swift movement, he stood up, pulling her with him. His hand on her cheek felt cold for holding the bowl of ice cream, but Pam thought it was refreshing and she could warm it up anyway. And then she forgot all about it, because his lips were on hers, soft and a mix of new and familiar. As if coming home were both comforting and exciting.