Your fingers scramble to bolt the door and dial the first half of his phone number before you can stop them.  Before you remember your friend with the glossy brown hair and the way he had been laughing as they walked out together earlier that afternoon.  Before you remember that the swinging doors of the gallery had never been him and the jelly-bean jar hadn’t needed refilling for more than three weeks.  The emptiness of your apartment makes the clatter of the phone being replaced in the cradle even louder.

            “Halpert came on to you?”  His menacing voice, the sound of glass shattering glass.  Spider webs spreading across a mirror, the mug’s broken handle and its strange resemblance to a bulbous nose.

            Ringing from the other end of the line echoes dimly in your ears. 

            “Hello?”

            “Hey… It’s Pam.”

            “Hi.” Fighting for words from a dry mouth. “Um…”

            “How’s the party?”

            “Good I guess.  Michael and Dwight are making fools out of themselves, but that’s normal…”

            “Yeah… hey, listen, is Jim right next to you?”

            “No, no, he’s outside playing basketball with the CFO.  Uh… did you want to talk to him?”

            “No, I was calling to talk to you.  Do you… do you think maybe you could ask him to stay at your house tonight?” You almost choke on the last few words.

            “Excuse me?”

            “I don’t think he should go back to his house right now.”

            “Why not?”

            “I think my fi – um, Roy might come looking for him.  Sorry, I know this is really weird but I just knew that if I called Jim he would – I just thought I should call you.”

            “Why would Roy come looking for him?”

            Just don’t ask questions, you beg silently.  Just don’t.  “I… it’s kind of a long story.  I told him tonight that Jim and I kissed last year and he didn't exactly take it as well as you did.  He’s pretty mad.”
            “But that was before you guys even started dating!”

            “Um… yeah, it’s weird.  Anyways can Jim just stay with you tonight?”

            “Yeah, sure.”

            “And I’d kind of appreciate it if maybe you didn’t tell him why.”

            “Sure, no problem.”

            “Thanks, thank you so much.  Enjoy the rest of the party, I’ll see you on Monday, alright?”

            “Okay, bye.”

            Before the line went dead you thought maybe you heard his voice fluttering above the receiver.  And it's that small friendly snippet, not the hurtful words tossed at you all night, that force you to the kitchen floor in tears.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

            “Yeah, sure.  Sure, no problem.  Okay, bye.”

            “Hey, who was that?”

            She snaps the phone shut guiltily, which is ridiculous because really what does she have to be guilty about?

            Sometimes you envy her.

            “Oh, just a friend.  From Stamford.  You don’t know her.  How did your game go?”

            “Great actually.  David’s a pretty cool guy.” Her narrowed eyes are digging deeper into yours than is entirely comfortable and it’s a relief to look away.  “So… are you still having fun?”

            “You want to leave.”

             Yes. “No, I just… Michael and Dwight have been acting like idiots for the last couple of hours and I don’t know anyone here and… it’s uncomfortable.”  You hate yourself a little for using Dwight as an excuse when after her prank all her face inspires in you is I don’t know you, I will never know you. 

            “Actually I’m ready to go.”

            “Yeah?”

            “Yeah.”

            Shutting the door you catch a glimpse of Jan tugging on Michael’s arm trying to prevent him from sliding down the Wallace's gleaming banister.

So is this something that I should continue working on?