"'Lo?" A sleepy, annoyed voice.

"Kenny, it's Roy."

"Wha..? What the fuck, bro? It's ... three in the morning!"

"I need help, Kenny. I'm in jail."

"What? Jesus, Roy, you -- No, honey, go back to sleep. It's Roy. -- What happened? Oh, God. You didn't go after that Jim guy--"

"No. DUI again."

"But...you were fine when we left Poor Richard's!"

"I stopped at a liquor store on the way home." He rubbed his eyes with one hand, feeling sand under his eyelids. "Look, can you get down here with some bail money?"

"Uh. You know I had to lay out the jet ski money to fix the thing at Poor Richard's?"

"Yeah. I only need five hundred dollars."

"Only? Jesus, Roy...Look, let me call Dad--"

"No!" It burst out of him. Roy slid a hand over the stubble on his cheeks, looked down at his orange jail jumpsuit. "No, for God's sake don't tell Dad. It'll kill Mom."

On the other end of the phone, Kenny sighed. Roy imagined him running his hand over his head, thought about him lying in bed next to his sleeping wife. He missed sleeping next to Pam. He'd actually thought he could get that back--

"Look, I ain't got the money, bro," Kenny said. "Maybe you could call Darryl?"

"I don't want anyone at work finding out about this," Roy said.

"Time's up," said the burly deputy next to him. He reached out a hand for the receiver.

"I gotta go, Kenny," Roy said. "I need $500, bro."

"I'll see what I can do," Kenny said. He hung up.

Roy handed the phone to the deputy, who took his arm and steered him back into line. Roy hated being manhandled, but resisted the urge to jerk away. It would just get him in more trouble.

Another prisoner in an orange jumpsuit stepped forward to the phone. Roy closed his eyes, wishing his headache would go away. Wishing it all would go away, wishing he was back where he was last year, on Lake Wallenpaupack setting a date with Pam. Had Halpert been hitting on her even then? He felt the slow tide of rage rising in him and took a deep breath. Not now.

Roy heard Pam's voice in his head. He told me how he felt, and I guess I had feelings too, and we kissed. God. How could she do this to him? And Halpert...Halpert had lied. Said he'd been over his "crush" on Pam. Said it was all in the past. Said they were "just friends".

How could he have been so stupid, to believe that? His head hurt and he wished he had some aspirin.

"Let's go," the deputy called. Roy opened his eyes.

The guy on his left nudged him. "You heard him, man."

Roy turned and followed the two guys ahead of him, shuffling in his jail-issued flip-flops. He hated wearing the things anyway, and these were one size too small; they were wearing a blister between his toes. All the prisoners were wearing day-glow orange jumpsuits; his was half a size too small and chafed him under the arms and at his crotch. He wondered if any of them would swap with him, so he could get a larger size. He decided not to suggest it.

They shuffled down the gray cinder block corridor to the end, waited while a door was unlocked, went through, waited while it was locked behind them. The air smelled of sweat and Lysol and anger. Dimly he heard banging sounds up ahead, shouts and laughter. Would Kenny be able to scare up the bail money? Would he go to their parents for it? He knew Kenny and Louise didn't have that much money, what with the twins and all. Shame joined the rage chasing his headache round and round in his skull. Another locked door, another wait, and then they passed through into a large room.

Cinder block walls, a high ceiling. Windows with wire mesh embedded in the glass, high up under the ceiling, higher than a man could jump. A line of bunk beds against one wall, and three concrete picnic "tables" with benches against the other. Three metal toilets set under the windows, a sink, and a stainless steel shower (no curtain) in the corner. No privacy. Hot. And it stank. One of the toilets had overflowed. Roy felt his stomach turning. He remembered throwing up already (on his clothes, the arresting officer's shoes, and his truck's front seat), so he didn't think he actually had anything in his stomach, but he didn't want to prove himself wrong.

The door slammed behind him and he turned. It was metal, with a small window. The glass had mesh embedded in it. He saw the guard's face in it, then the face went away. He heard the thunk of locks shooting home.

The group he'd arrived with split up immediately. Roy watched as the two men who had been ahead of him joined three men on the bunks. The other two men sat down on a concrete picnic table with other men who looked like they might be gang members. That left Roy standing next to a young, heavily tattooed guy.

The young guy looked at him. "Hey." There were bruises on his face.

Roy nodded at him, dismayed--was this kid old enough to be locked up with the adults? He looked about sixteen.

"Got a smoke?" the younger man said. He'd rolled the sleeves of his orange jumpsuit up, revealing heavily tattooed forearms. "I'm gonna shit if I don't get a smoke soon."

"Sorry," Roy said.

"I'll blow you for one, if you want," the younger man said casually.

Shocked, Roy said, "No. And I don't smoke anyway."

The younger man shrugged. "Whatever." He shuffled over and sat cross-legged on the concrete floor.

Roy looked at the men on the bunks, then the men on the picnic tables. Nobody looked back, yet he could feel the hostility radiating off of them. He'd seen this kind of aggression before; it didn't have to have any kind of cause, it was just there. Angry men locked up together lashed out at any target. He didn't want to join either of the groups against the walls.

Reluctantly, he sat down on the floor next to the younger man, in the center of the big room. Someone on the bunks said something in a low voice he didn't catch, though he caught the mocking, nasty tone. Catcalls followed. Roy looked away, avoiding eye contact. He didn't want a fight. Not with these guys, anyway.

"First time?" the kid said.

"Nah, been here once before. But they put me in a smaller room."

The kid nodded, looking across the room at the bunks. "On Friday nights they like to fill this one up first."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. One of the guys from the bunks got up and used the toilet, flushed, sat down again. The sound of banging, shouting and laughter filtered in from other cells.

"Dan," the younger man said.

"What?"

"My name is Dan."

"Oh. I'm Roy."

"What are you in for?"

"DUI."

"Sucks."

"Yeah." Roy stretched his legs out, unkinking them. Sitting on the hard concrete hurt his ass. "What about you?"

"Assault."

Roy looked over at him, seeing the bloody knuckles, the scrape along one cheek, the purple bruises almost hidden under the tattoos. "What happened?"

"Guy got between me and my girl."

Roy nodded. "I get that." Boy, did he get that. "You take him out?"

Silence.

Guess not, Roy thought. Kid probably got his ass kicked. "Don't get mad, but, uh, how old are you?"

Dan looked at him for the first time. His shock of black hair stood up in spikes all over his head, and his pale skin contrasted with the swollen left eye, blue as summer skies. "I'm nineteen. Why?"

"No reason. You don't look your age."

"You a chicken hawk?"

Roy scowled. "No," he said shortly.

Dan shrugged. "Whatever. A lot of guys in here roll that way, especially for a younger guy."

"You...let them...?"

Dan laughed shortly, a bitter sound. He waved a hand at the mutually antagonistic groups on either side of the room. "Let them? How do you think I buy protection? These guys would chew me up and spit me out."

It dawned on Roy that, by sitting down with Dan, he'd inadvertently told the room that he was Dan's 'protector'. Which meant they thought that he and Dan... He felt his face go hot. "Hey, I didn't say anything about--"

"Don't get your panties in a twist," Dan said wearily. "I ain't hittin' on you."

"Damn right you're not!" Roy said.

Dan nodded to the men ranged around the room. "Don't yell at me. Tell it to them."

Great, Roy thought. As if he didn't have enough troubles. Last time he'd been arrested, they'd put him in a smaller room, with three other guys. This gay thing hadn't even come up. He didn't like it. He didn't need this.

"Shit," he muttered, putting his face in his hands.

"Don't do that," Dan hissed.

Roy jerked his head up. "What?"

"Don't cry. That's like blood in the water."

"I'm not crying."

"Oh. Well, it looked like you were. Bad idea."

"Well, I'm not."

"Don't even let them think--"

"I said I'm not crying," Roy said loudly. Kid was working his last nerve.

"And keep it down! You don't want to attract attention."

"Shut up," Roy said. "I don't want to hear any more of this."

"Just trying to help, man." Dan stared at his bare feet, picking his toenails in silence.

Where the hell was Kenny?

Roy sat with his knees drawn up, forearms on his knees, chin on his arms. His headache began to fade, but his stomach was growling with hunger. He replayed the scene in Poor Richard's over and over; Pam telling him I guess I had feelings too and we kissed. She guessed she had feelings for Jim Halpert? How long had she had them? What had those two been doing behind his back? He burned, thinking of Pammy in Halpert's arms, of him kissing her, doing more.

He squeezed his hands together, trying to shut out those pictures in his head. A distraction—he needed a distraction. "Uh. Look, I didn't mean to be rude just now. I was just...it's been a hell of a night."

Dan looked up at him. The swelling around his eye was so bad Roy winced. "You hit anyone? With your car?"

"Nah. Ran off the road into a ditch. Cop was on my ass, busted me right away."

"They might let you go with a fine, then. Where's your car now?"

"Cop said he was towing my truck."

Dan nodded. "Good. Sometimes they leave it, you come back the next day it's gone. What kind of truck?"

"2006 Dodge Ram."

Another nod. "Good wheels."

"Yeah. What about you?"

"Saving up for one. My bud's got an '03 Silverado he'll let me have cheap."

"V6 or V8?"

"It's got the V8. And the new electrical system. Good ride." Dan sighed. "I wanted to take Cynthia -- my girl -- away in it."

"She getting bail for you?" Roy asked.

Dan shrugged. "I doubt it. Her boyfriend -- the guy who clocked me -- keeps her on a tight leash."

Her boyfriend? Wait a minute. "She's with someone else?"

"They been together a long time. But she wants out, and he won't let her go, so..." Dan shrugged.

Roy scowled. "You mean they were going together and you broke them up?" He was feeling a lot less sympathy for Dan than he had been a few moments ago.

"Nah, it's not like that, man. She wants out. She doesn't want him any more. But he won't let her go. I mean, what is she, his fucking property? So I drove over to help her move out, take her to her mom's, you know? And he comes home early and starts whaling on me."

"Did she tell him she wanted out?"

"Yeah. He wasn't listening." Dan looked at him with dull eyes. "You know what? I didn't give a shit about her boyfriend. I was all about what she wanted, hey?"

That stopped Roy cold. "She..."

"She wants out, man. She wants me, not him. And he can't let go of that. So fucking pathetic."

"Still, if she wanted out, why not get out? Why cheat on her guy with you?"

"She tried. He hit her and brought her back. Far as I care, he wasn't her guy."

The hell he wasn't. "Did she make him a promise?" Roy said, his voice thickening with anger.

"Yeah. And then she met me. It happens," the boy said strongly. He looked Roy in the eye, unafraid. "Hey, they weren't married. Look, man, she can't help how she feels. Neither can I. It is what it is, you know? And her boyfriend getting pissed about it isn't going to make any difference."

"Still—"

"What is she supposed to do? Stay with a guy she doesn't love? Marry him? Have kids? That ain't right. No way that's right."

"Then she should be up front with the guy."

Dan let out a bitter chuckle. "She's afraid of him. Afraid he'll hurt her."

"So cheating works better?" Roy could hear the anger in his voice, saw the men on either side of the room turning to look at them. He didn't care.

"What the hell is it to you?" Dan sounded annoyed.

Roy opened his mouth for an angry retort. And heard It is what it is.

Suddenly the anger turned bitter, turned sour, turned into fear. It shocked through him like a cold shower. He sighed, collapsing in on himself, subsiding. He stared at his feet in the worn flip-flops. A low chuckle sounded from the wall at his left; he ignored it.

"What's up?" Dan said, frowning.

And suddenly it was just too much to carry by himself any more. Roy had always been a team player, always relied on the guys or his family or, or Pam to help him carry the weight of his own emotions. And now he was on his own and he couldn't do it. It was all too much to carry alone. He glanced over at Dan. The boy was looking at his hands, twisted together. Broken, chewed nails.

Strangely, the thought came to him. This guy understands.

"I .. I think my girlfriend was cheating on me," Roy said in a low voice. It was the most painful thing he'd ever said to a stranger. Shame flooded through him, but he refused to back away.

"Yeah?"

Roy drew in a long, shaky breath. "Yeah. We ... we work at the same company, and there was this guy, a salesman. Long story. Anyway, we were gonna get married, me and Pam. Then, a month before the big day, she calls it off."

"Harsh."

"Yeah, and this was back in May, you know? May, for crissakes."

"She didn't tell you about this other guy?"

"Not a word. Until tonight, after I bust my ass for months trying to get her back, she goes and tells me she and this other guy..." Roy couldn't finish for the rage choking his throat.

"So you beat the shit out of him." Dan flipped his feet up and down, watching the sandals flap against the concrete.

"Not yet. That's the plan," Roy growled.

"And you think that's gonna make her leave him and come back to you?"

"No, the thing is, they're not together. In fact, the guy--his name is Jim--he's dating some other woman completely."

"No shit?" Dan looked skeptical. "That doesn't make sense. If they're not hooked up, why'd she tell you what she did?"

Roy shrugged. "No idea."

Dan pursed his lips, looking away. "Women."

"Yeah."

Dan cracked his knuckles, winced. "So. What are you gonna do now?"

"Kill the bastard."

"Well, yeah. Like you said. But I mean, do you want her back?"

"I--." Roy stopped. Did he want Pam back? "I don't know."

Dan shook his head. "Man, some chick ditches me, I wouldn't want her wandering ass back. Not after what, ten months?"

Roy looked over at him. "You got into a fight over your girl."

"She didn't ditch me and then lay shit like that on me ten months later."

"You think your girl wants this other guy? Is that why she hasn't left him?"

Dan stared at the wall morosely. "I don't know."

"You still want her?"

Dan was silent so long Roy figured he wasn't going to answer, then he said, very softly. "Yeah."

"How many times has this guy beat you up?" Roy asked.

Dan shrugged, his thin shoulders rising and falling under the orange jumpsuit. "Few times."

"And you keep going back for her."

"Yeah."

Roy looked at his hands, slowly formed them into fists. "Even if he keeps messing you up like he has?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

The boy looked at him out of smouldering eyes. "'Cause I love her. Duh. I ain't gonna quit on that."

Roy thought he was like that. He wasn't going to quit on Pam. But she's already quit on me, he thought. Twice.

The door behind them clanged open. All heads turned to see who was coming in. One of the deputies, the bald one, came through and gestured at Roy. Relief flooded through him as he stood.

"Looks like your bail money came," Dan said.

Roy looked at him, still sitting hunched on the floor. He looked over at the two groups of hostile prisoners, looking from him to the boy. He realized that the boy would be alone in here if he left.

"Hey, you gonna be okay?" Roy asked.

"Let's go, Anderson," the deputy called.

"I'll be okay." Dan looked away, squaring his shoulders. Roy saw another bruise on his arm, peeking out from under the rolled up sleeve.

He walked over to the deputy. "My brother's here?"

"Yeah, let's go."

"Can I, uh, can I post bail for that guy?" He nodded toward the younger man.

The deputy looked from Roy to Dan and back again. Roy felt himself growing hot at the cynical look but said nothing. He told himself it didn't matter what this guard thought.

"Depends. We'll see." He nodded at the door and Roy went through. He waited while the guard locked the cell again.

"That guy, Dan..." Roy said.

"He your boyfriend now?" The guard smirked at him.

Roy felt his hands curving into fists and forced them to relax. "Those guys are gonna mess him up," he said.

The guard shrugged. "We'll keep an eye on him."

Helpless, Roy followed the guard down the hall, through several doors, until they arrived in a room with tables and chairs and a guy sitting behind a desk with a computer. Kenny stood up as Roy came in.

"Hey, bro."

The guard motioned at Roy, and he sat down at a table with Kenny. At another table, a large Hispanic woman spoke rapid Spanish to a man in an orange jumpsuit. She was crying.

"Kenny. You got the money?"

Kenny nodded, looking unhappy. "Look, Louise and me, we don't have that kind of money."

"I know," Roy said. "But you didn't have to go to Dad, did you?"

His brother shook his head slowly. "Look, you aren't gonna like this, but it was all I could think of."

"What did you do? You ... you didn't talk to ... you didn't go to Pam, did you?" Roy felt his breath come short. God, anything but that.

"No. I ... I let them put a lien on your truck."

Roy's jaw clenched. He'd just made the last payment on that truck. "Is it ... is it enough?"

Kenny nodded. "Yeah. But if they give you a fine and you can't pay it, you'll lose the truck."

Roy looked down at his hands, wondering if this night could get any worse. First Pam hits him with that bad, bad news. Then he gets drunk and winds up in the tank, and now he might lose the truck. And tomorrow he'd get hit with another fine for DUI. Damn.

And then he thought of a thin-faced young man sitting hunched in the middle of a cold room, surrounded by hostile stares. A boy--no, a man--who loved a girl who belonged to someone else. Who'd suffered for her and would suffer again. And something curiously compassionate stirred in Roy Anderson.

He remembered Dan saying, She wants me, not him. And he can't let go of that.

He cleared his throat. "Uh, Kenny, how much of a lien did you get?"

Kenny scratched his head. "Anything up to a couple thousand."

"There's a guy I met. Inside. He, uh, he shouldn't be in there. I'd like to help him out."

Kenny looked at him blankly. "Roy? You barely got the money for this. And then there's the fine. What are you doing?"

"Guy needs a break," Roy said roughly. "He'll pay me back." Well, maybe he would and maybe he wouldn't. Roy didn't want to examine this idea too closely.

"Do you even know this guy? Is he running some kind of jailhouse con on you?"

Roy shrugged. "I don't care. Just find out if we can bail him out."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah."

"What's his name?" Kenny stood, frowning.

"Dan. He's in for assault."

"That's all you know?"

"Yeah." Roy balled his fists, willing himself not to feel like an idiot.

"I'll see." Kenny shuffled over to the man behind the desk with the computer. He sat down and started a conversation in low tones.

Roy sat and looked at his hands. He thought about smashing Jim Halpert's face with them. That's what he'd been thinking when he left Poor Richard's, when he stopped in at the liquor store. But now ... now he saw Pam's face when she told him I guess I had feelings too, and we kissed.

She'd waited ten months to tell him. Why? Was she afraid of him? What kind of guy was he, that his own Pammy was afraid of him? Was this the guy he wanted to be?

He remembered the sound of her voice when she said I had feelings too. It didn't really matter what Halpert felt for Pam. With a sinking feeling, a feeling of finality, Roy Anderson realized that it was over. It no longer had anything to do with Jim Halpert. It had to do with Pam.

She wants me, not him. And he can't let go of that.

Roy opened his hands, palm up, and looked at them. Calloused, big, muscular. Sure, he could take Jim Halpert apart like a cheap toy. And Pam still wouldn't want him, Roy. She wasn't his any more. He wasn't hers, either.

Roy felt the burning in his eyes that said he might be close to tears. And he absolutely was not going to do that here, not here.

Kenny sat down across from him and pushed a piece of paper across the table at him. "That's the lien. Sign it and we'll be out of here."

Roy picked up the pen. "What about Dan?"

"They're doing the paperwork now. Roy, you sure about this? I mean, you don't even know this guy."

Yeah, Roy thought. He didn't know Dan. But he and Dan understood something in common, even if they understood it from opposite sides of the fence. In some ways, Dan understood him better than Kenny.

He signed the paper. Kenny took it away.

He wondered if it was smart, helping this guy Dan steal another man's girl. Then he remembered Dan saying She doesn't want him any more. But he won't let her go.

Yeah, he knew how that went. He looked at his hands again. He made slow fists, released them, clenched his hands again.

She'd said, I guess I had feelings too. Which meant, she didn't have feelings for him any more. And his fists wouldn't change her mind.

Roy opened his hands. Maybe it was time to let go.