pb & j's story

casino night

pam's pov of the going-on's of casino night

we've had a casino night down in the warehouse and it was surprisingly really fun. jim was off though, something was weird about him. i couldn't place what my best friends tone was, so i let it slide.

roy was tired, and darryl was too drunk to stay any longer. so, roy being a good friend, had decided to take darryl home, and to bed himself.
i talked with him in the parking lot about how i wanted to stay. he didn't fight me on it, which was surprising, but i shut up so we didn't have to fight yet again.

jim had just walked out the warehouse as i kissed my fiance goodbye.

"hey halpert, keep an eye on her, alright?" roy calls to jim from the drivers seat of his truck.

"okay, will do" he says to roy.

roy drives off, and i go to talk to my best friend. he meets me in the middle of the parking lot. we started having a random conversation about gambling, but jim's thoughts were very far away.

"hey uhh can i talk to you about something?" he says.

i bicker back to him about poker, not realising how serious his tone was. i stop for a minute, and let him speak, realising it had to be something important.

"i was just um...
i'm in love with you."

"what" i say. the hell, halpert? my heart races a million miles a minute. never did i think i'd ever hear those words from his mouth.

he continues rambling about his love for me, which i go onto some form of autopilot and defend my relationship with roy. no way jim is actually doing this. tonight, of all nights, especially after he told roy he'd look after me.

"i can't... i'm really sorry if you misinterpreted our friendship. it's probably my fault," i say to him.

he looks crushed, more sad than i've ever seen him. and i've seen jim sad several times, but nothing like this. he looked shattered.

"not your fault," a tear runs down his face, and he wipes it away. "i'm sorry i misinterpreted uh our friendship."

jim walks away, and i'm frozen to the spot. i stare into space, and fiddle with my hands. my fingers find their way to my engagement ring.

oh god no.
roy.

i need to tell someone about this, but who? my go to guy is usually jim, but he's obviously out of the picture. everyone else in the office is too... gross. they would all flip out if they knew what had just happened. and after the past six months of knowing how jim and i's friendship has been perceived, i'd never look at any of them in the eyes again.

i run through the warehouse to the stairs that lead to the main office. i pass michael, who is about to be questioned for the documentary. oh shoot, i forgot about them.

"pam, are you okay?" michael calls out.
bless his soul. the world's worst confidant trying to be comforting. he may be a dick, but he genuinely does care.

"i'm fine, just have to talk to my mom," i say. it shuts him up, and the camera crew start questioning him.

i run up the stairs, which proves to be a challenging task in a long dress and heels. on my walk to the office, i try to remember seeing any camera crews filming jim confessing his love. from memory, there weren't any in sight, but who knows how much they do and don't catch.

i arrive in the office, and i go to jim's desk. it's closer to where i was than mine, has a comfort of him which helps me to think about this clearer, and i dial the familiar number that is my mother's.