Jim had discarded approximately seventeen attempts at telling Pam about him and Karen. There were the typed-and-deleted emails: “Hey. Um, listen, Karen and I broke up, so…” Nice, Halpert. Make her feel like your second choice. “Karen dumped me last night. Could you cheer me up?” God, no. “Karen told me I have to go for it with you, and I’m a little scared of her. Please don’t let her hurt me.” Better, but he still couldn’t bring himself to hit Send.

There were notes written on Dunder Mifflin letterhead, too, but they each either stopped after half a sentence or had more words crossed out than not. The one with the doodle of Stick Pam and Stick Jim holding little round circle hands was actually pretty good, so he put it in his desk drawer for later. But for now? To tell her they actually had a shot now and beg her to take it…stick people would not do.

He’d zoomed her desk a dozen times, starting up to talk to her, discovering he had no idea what he was going to say, and redirecting toward the bathroom. If anyone was paying attention to his motions, they’d think he was having gastrointestinal issues.

And it wasn’t any better with Karen. He fought the impulse to send her a hundred emails saying, “I’m sorry,” to offer to buy her lunch—or a puppy, or maybe furniture. He knew that was the last thing she wanted; she’d made her decision, and if he coddled her, it would diminish any power she had over the situation. Still, he felt the apologies coming off him in waves every time their eyes met. She hated it, he knew. He expected her to come over to his desk at any minute and tell him to get it together.

Finally, at 2:30, he realized what he should do. He clicked the MySpace icon in his links bar and signed into the account he’d created for Pam. After a few false starts, he came up with an entry he thought would say what he needed to say. Then he emailed Pam to check her blog.

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Pam had been staring at the back of Jim’s head for the better part of the day. It hadn’t revealed any secrets to her, though she was seriously considering telling him he needed a haircut. The cute flip had enjoyed a long and successful heyday, but, secretly, Pam had a weakness for a nice back-of-the-neck, and Jim’s was becoming obscured. And that was just unacceptable.

Another thing that she found unacceptable was his sudden reluctance to talk to her. The morning passed without him stopping by her desk—even once. Although he frequently seemed as though he was headed her way, he always veered away and headed in the other direction. She was about to ask him whether he needed some Pepto Bismol when she got an interesting email.

To: PBeesly@dundermifflin.com
From: KFilipelli@dundermifflin.com
Subject: I think you should know

I think I should tell you—because I’m sure Jim hasn’t—that we broke up last night. And I know how crazy it is for me to be the one telling you this, but…well, it is what it is.

Anyway, I just wanted you to know that he’s…that we’re not together anymore. I don’t think I can actually be more specific about what that means, but I’m pretty sure you get the idea.

And if by some miracle Jim actually tells you that we broke up, you don’t have to tell him about this email. But if he doesn’t, just…don’t necessarily wait for him to make the first move. I’m not privy to all the information, but I have a feeling he went first last time. I know that’s none of my business. I just wanted to tell you…I don’t know. If I get any more involved in this, I’ll have to sign something for HR. Just…good luck, I guess. Though you don’t need it. It’s in the bag.

~Karen

Pam flicked her eyes over to Karen’s desk, but she wasn’t there. Must’ve set the delivery time and then taken lunch so she wouldn’t have to see my reaction, Pam thought. And she was relieved, because, frankly, her reaction had undoubtedly featured about a thousand emotions ranging across her face in under a minute, and that can’t have been attractive. Thank God Jim had been in the bathroom again. Pam was sure he would’ve felt her reaction hit him in the back of the head if he’d been at his desk.

For the next couple hours, it was almost impossible for Pam to look at anyone. If she looked at Karen, she might appear too happy and that could hurt Karen’s feelings. If she looked at Jim, she was sure he’d just…know. At this point, she didn’t even feel comfortable looking at Dwight. He was an odd man with strange and unpredictable aptitudes. It would be just her luck that Dwight could somehow read her emotions through her skin if she faced him. No, better to just avoid everyone’s gaze. Safer that way.

And while she avoided looking at everyone, she had time to formulate a plan. After a few minutes of deliberation, she was satisfied she’d said what she needed to say. As she plucked up her courage and hit Send, she heard a tiny ding as she received a new email from Jim:

To: PBeesly@dundermifflin.com
From: JHalpert@dundermifflin.com
Subject: something you should see

Interesting post on your blog today.

Meanwhile, a few feet away, Jim heard a little ding, too:

To: JHalpert@dundermifflin.com
From: PBeesly@dundermifflin.com
Subject: chicken

I can’t believe I had to hear about this from your blog. Weak, Halpert. Weak.

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