When Pam awoke the next morning, the sun was already high in the sky. Her hair was matted, and her face was streaked with tears. She didn’t remember much about the night before – at least not from after the fight. She remembered crying for what felt like hours, and telling her mom about the kiss and the argument. She tried to remember what all she had said, but everything she remembered was hazy, like it was just a bad dream. It certainly didn’t feel like something she would do. The only way she knew it was real was seeing her phone, lying on the ground, forgotten there overnight.

            Pam got up slowly. She remembered hanging up on Jim; did he try to call back? She took a deep breath and picked up the phone – it was off. Somehow, in the commotion, it must have gotten turned off. Pam quickly pressed the power button. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted him to have called, but her heart sank when she saw she didn’t have any new voicemails.

            She left her phone on her dresser and went downstairs. Her dad was in the living room, reading. “Hey sweetie. Rough night?”

            Pam just nodded, she wasn’t sure she would be able to talk without crying again.

            “It’ll all be okay, Sprout.”

Pam couldn’t help but smile at her childhood nickname. “I know, daddy. It’s just tough.”

“Remember Nick? Your first love?

“Dad!”

“Seriously Sprout. You were madly in love with him. I mean, sure, you were only 14 at the time, but he was all you could talk about. Then one day he caught you sketching him. He told all his friends, and you were a social outcast for the day.”

“Thanks for the memories dad, that really helps,” Pam says sarcastically.

“Pam, listen. Remember what happened? You came home that night in tears. You said you never wanted to go back to school. But the next morning, you got up, and you faced your fears. You went to school. And nothing happened. They had all moved on to something else equally stupid like the giant zit on so and so’s face.”

“So you are saying that Jim won’t remember any of this on Monday because Dwight has a giant zit?”

“No. I am saying it isn’t going to be as bad as you think. It may feel like the end of the world right now, but who knows on Monday. It may not be easy, but you can get through it. You’re a tough one, Sprout. And you will get through this.”

“Thanks, dad.” Pam smiled as she left. She wasn’t sure it was going to be as easy as her dad said, but, he was right, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. At least, she hoped it wasn’t.

Pam walked into the kitchen, trying to find something to soothe her grumbling stomach. Opening the fridge, she found some eggs and cheese, and decided to make an omelet. She tried to think of what she was going to do today. She wanted a distraction, to do anything expect think about Jim. She soon realized that maybe what she needed was no distractions – a place where she could think it through, be alone with her thoughts. It started when she was in high school – she would take long, meandering walks through her neighborhood, usually whenever she ad a rough day at school and just wanted some alone time. She would spend hours wandering around, thinking over the day, trying to figure out what went wrong and how she could avoid it. She wasn’t sure if anything was ever solved in those walks, but it helped her survive until college.

After eating, she quickly changed into jeans and a hoodie. She yanked her hair up into a ponytail, not even bothering to brush it. She walked out, yelling to her dad that she was leaving. She heard her dad say something about rain, but paid no attention.

She walked along the familiar path, still the same even though years had passed since her last walk. As she walked, she thought through her problems. She talked to herself, working through what she would say, what he would say. There were a thousand possibilities running through her head, mixed with memories of Jim.

She had expected something to happen that night, she just wasn’t sure what. She spent hours on her hair and carefully chose her dress. She was having a great time. Then Jim happened. Not only did he tell her he loved her, he kissed her. He kissed her in a way that Roy never had, full of longing. She had said no, but wanted to say yes. She went home and cried. The next morning, she called in sick, not wanting to see Jim.

She rubbed his back. Jealously filled Pam; in that one simple motion, Karen had had more physical contact with him than she ever would. She tried brushing it off as a simple, friendly gesture between two coworkers. But he had turned her down for coffee. It wasn’t just a simple gesture; it was a relationship.

 The second kiss was different. There were butterflies in her stomach as she walked those last feet towards him. The look in his eyes, jovial and light, suddenly darkened as her arms wrapped around his neck. It wasn’t fear; it was hope. At least, that is what she told herself as they kissed. It felt magical, it felt as if everything was finally right. When it ended, she walked out; she didn’t want face reality. As the door closed behind her, her heart fell as she realized he wasn’t coming after her. Maybe it wasn’t hope after all.

            The more she walked, the more depressed she got. She started realizing they were no more than memories, fleeting moments in time. Those seconds couldn’t compare with Karen, who he had a relationship with. She realized how stupid she was for trying anything with Jim; he was happy with Karen, and who wouldn’t choose Karen over her? The longer she walked, the more she degraded herself, thinking there was no hope with Jim and all she had done was screw up their fragile friendship. New scenarios filled her head – going from denial that the kiss ever happened to begging for forgiveness. How could she have ever thought Jim would leave the perfect Karen for her?

Pam hadn’t realized how far she had walked until she felt the first raindrops. She was nearly two miles from home, and had no way to call to get a ride. Pam pulled up her hood and started jogging. She tried to remember shortcuts, but this far out, she couldn’t quite remember what streets intersected with what.

By the time she entered her neighborhood, it was pouring. She walked slowly; depressed, lonely, and soaked to the bone. When she reached her street, all she could think of was getting a hot shower, and spending the rest of the day in pajamas, pigging out on ice cream. 

Pam climbed her front steps, digging through her wet pockets to find her keys. Suddenly, the door opened in front of her. Pam glanced up, surprised. Her eyes widened. “Jim?”