"Sorry I'm late." He ran a hand over the back of his head and Pam watched: up, down, up, down, up…
The rest of the class still seemed to be in shock at what Dwight had done, but most had gone back to choosing their seats and setting out their study materials. No one was really paying attention to Jim except from Pam and Dwight (who's eyes were following Jim like a hawk).
He walked up the middle row of seats, scanning faces. Apparently, he didn't really know anyone in the class either.
Pam raised her hand awkwardly, waving it a little in the air to catch his attention before she lost her courage. When Jim caught sight of her, his eyes lit up, and he walked over in her direction with more purpose than he had previously.
"I thought you might want to be saved from sitting with Dwight." Pam explained, shifting her notebook to her side so it wouldn't overlap with his new desk.
"How can I ever repay you for this?" He shrugged off his computer bag, sitting it on the desk with a thud. "You've literally saved my life."
"Well, you're welcome." Pam said, smiling.
Jim waited until he had everything set up before speaking again. Pam watched on with interest, taking note of how he angled his laptop so that it's edges were in perfect proportion to the edges of the desk.
"This isn't gonna be weird, right?" Jim asked, seemingly self-conscious.
Pam couldn't really tell if he was joking or not. "Why?"
"Just… The last time we met - first time, really - it was under strange circumstances… You know?" He floundered, looking to her hopefully as if she might know the answer to whatever he was trying to say.
"The fact that you had no clothes on when we first met had nothing to do with how I plan on interacting with you from now on." Pam said matter-of-factly, earning a low chuckle from her new friend.
"Good." He bowed his head, but Pam could tell he was still grinning.
It filled her with a strange sense of glee, knowing that she could really make someone laugh. She'd never really thought of herself as the funny, charismatic type - if she was completely honest, she was more of a mouse, scurrying through social interactions and freezing when cornered at parties and squeaking whenever she was forced to talk.
(It's just that Roy was always the funny one, and Pam was always told how lucky she was to be with "the one guy who could make everyone laugh."She faked giggles until a couple years after they started dating, but nowadays she just didn't see the point in it.)
"So, uh… What brings you to the wonderful world of college History classes?"
Jim's question caught her slightly off guard. There was no time to think of a good response, so she just blurted out the first thing that came to her head: "It's easy."
"Fair enough." He laughed a little at her blunt reply, and Pam felt the immediate need to correct herself.
"Like, there's no 'what-ifs'." She explained, hoping she could get her point across. When she had tried to explain the same thing to Roy and their friends before high school finished up, they just didn't seem to understand, and for some reason it was important for her that Jim did.
"You learn what happened, what we know. The past can't be changed, so there's never any variables, you know? Different historians have different perspectives on things but despite the tweaked accounts, the past happened one way, and it can never be changed." She finished her speech with a blush creeping up her cheeks, and only hoped that she hadn't creeped him out with her weird fascination for events that took place centuries ago.
"I get you." Jim nodded slowly, reflecting on what she had said. "That was… Surprisingly philosophical of you, Pam - wait, what was your last name again?"
"Beesly."
"Beesly?!" Jim asked in apparent glee. "That's got to be the best surname I've heard of, ever." He laughed even more, shaking his head in mock-disbelief. "Beesly!"
"Shut up," Pam muttered, unsure of whether to feel indignant or happy that something as simple as her surname was making him laugh. She attempted to redirect the topic of conversation back to his original question to her. "Anyway, why did you take History?"
He swung back in his chair, seemingly concentrating hard on the question. After a long moment, he finally answered, shifting his chair forward again. "I guess… Similar reasons to yours. I'm good at it." When Pam raised her eyebrows at his remark, he added, quickly: "I don't mean to sound arrogant, I swear! But I really am good at it. It was my best subject back in high school. And, I don't know, it's just cool to study."
Pam gave him a small nod, suddenly aware of the amount of eye-contact they'd shared over the past few minutes. She redirected her gaze to her desk, shuffling her notebook and stationary over to the side, placing them on top of her laptop. When she caught sight of Jim out the corner of her eye, he looked a little disappointed, and she had to try hard not to read into it.
(It's just that looking at him like that made her feel guilty. She knew that if they shared too many looks /like that/, she'd find herself… In trouble. She was dating Roy and had been for the last 5 years, and their relationship was fine. She couldn't really see any possible future where she wasn't with Roy, and though she was hesitant to use the word, looking at Jim like that made her feel an awful lot like a cheater.)
She was (thankfully) disrupted from her reverie when the door to the classroom slammed shut. A short, middle-aged man with dark hair turned to face the class.
"I bet you're all wondering why I'm not sitting down with you guys." The man spoke, addressing the class as a whole. No one replied, and he smiled smugly. "Well, it may surprise you all to discover that I am, in fact…" He paused, apparently for dramatic effect, although Pam could tell that people were already losing interest.
After far too long a pause, he finally finished his sentence. "The professor!"
He clearly didn't get the response he was looking for, whatever that response was, so he strode over to his desk and shrugged off his jacket.
"In this class, you will learn a lot." He spread his hands, leaning his back against the edge of his desk. "A lot. In a way, I am your mentor in this wonderful world of college History."
Pam could hear frantic typing coming from someone sitting a little way to the left, in the row in front of her. Upon further inspection, she noticed it was Dwight, and when she squinted to make out what he was typing, she released it was a transcript of the professor's speech.
Thinking Jim would get a kick out of Dwight's weird behaviour, she softly touched his elbow. He jumped a little, as if shocked, but asked her what was wrong, his eyes darting back to the professor constantly to make sure they wouldn't get caught talking while the professor was trying to teach.
"Look, Dwight." Pam told him, nodding to where the weirdo sat.
Jim realised what she was talking about immediately, and had to stifle his laughter. "I can't believe this." He whispered, shaking his head.
"I know," Pam shot him a grin. "Is he gonna do this the whole class?"
"How fast can he type?" Jim marvelled. "I guess I don't need to listen to the professor anymore, if I can just read Dwight's notes from here."
"Is he still transcripting?" Pam asked. "He's moved his head, I can't see anymore."
"Yeah." Jim tilted his head to the side, trying to see around Dwight. "He's making notes on the professor, too. Apparently his name is 'Michael G. Scott'. He's into improv and has-" he put on a surprisingly accurate Dwight voice. "'An array of knowledge in the historical concepts on post-Civil War America'."
"Nice," She let out a short laugh before she was able to stop herself, and quickly turned to make sure the professor hadn't heard. Thankfully, he didn't seem to notice what went on at the back of the class.
Nearly 10 minutes had passed before Michael Scott was even close to finishing his introduction to the class. Pam had stopped listening around the time he delved into talking about his "youthful personality and boyish good looks" which apparently made him an object of jealousy for many other teachers and students.
She'd begun a little sketch in the margin of her notebook (lying open and blank, for Mr. Scott hadn't said anything relevant to the course yet) of a small, scrappy dog. She filled in the eyebrows carefully, and drew it's mouth open impossibly wide. As time passed, she could tell that Jim was watching her draw.
Wanting to check that he really was watching her, she printed "MICHAEL G SCOTT" underneath the sketch.
Jim snickered, earning himself a few annoyed looks by other members of the class. "That's brilliant." He told Pam softly, ignoring the others.
"Thanks." She smiled, staring down at the page. "He reminds me of a little, yappy dog."
He grinned at her, then had an idea. "Do you mind?" He gestured to her notebook.
"No, go ahead." She watched on as he slid the notebook over onto his desk, and hunched over the drawing, scribbling something in pencil. Pam had to admit that she was a little worried about him adding anything to the drawing - her art was one of the few things she was very protective of, and even though it was only a dumb sketch about her crazy History professor, she didn't want it ruined.
She felt Jim nudge her arm and jumped, even though his touch was soft.
"Sorry," he smiled apologetically, and slid the notebook over to her again. He watched her as she read the little speech bubble he'd drawn coming from the dog, and added nervously: "I wrote it all in pencil, so if it's totally dumb then you can just erase it."
"What do you mean you don't mistake me for being a student? I look exactly like you all!"
"It's funny," she assured him, looking back up from the page to grant him a smile. "And true."
"What can I say? I'm a funny guy." Jim bragged, and for a minute Pam feared he was being totally unironic in his statement.
"Funny looking, maybe."
"Oldest trick in the book, Beesly. I can't believe you."
"Okay, I concede. You're the funniest person I know. I have to stop myself from dying of laughter whenever I'm around you." Pam deadpanned.
Jim shook his head, grinning at the desk. "Shut up. You win."
"Thank you." She smirked.
Michael G Scott managed to end the hour-long class without even starting the course, a feat Pam would have deemed impossible before meeting him.
The class was… Fun. It was nice to be able to sit with Jim, a new friend, especially considering he was the only person she really knew in the class. After helping her with her cartoon of their professor as a dog, they had proceeded to wonder aloud (no one seemed to care at this point, anyway) what type of animal Dwight would be, (Pam suggested an otter, but Jim had protested that "otters are way too cute, and they actually have a purpose in the world," so they mutually agreed that he would be a mole scurrying around in his custom-built underground tunnels) and somehow that conversation led to them trying to work out the personalities and nicknames of the other people in the class. (Notably, the man from before who apparently loved to sing was nicknamed Trust Fund Sweatervest, and the English woman was nicknamed Queenie. Together, they made up elaborate backstories for the both of them.)
She'd only known him for a day, but Jim was probably her best friend at the school, considering that she hadn't much in common with Kelly, and everyone else she had spoken to so far had seemed bored, tired, or stoned.
Jim waited for her by the classroom door, shifting from foot to foot. When they got outside the room and out of Michael's earshot, Jim exclaimed: "That was the weirdest class I've ever been to."
"I know, right?" Pam loaded her bag over her shoulder. "I mean, you'd think he would at least /touch on/ what we're actually meant to be learning about there."
"Maybe this course of History is all about the past of Michael G. Scott," Jim mused.
"And we'll be expected to write a paper about how the influences of Jerry Seinfeld persuaded him to get into stand-up."
"That would definitely be a short paper." He scoffed. "In conclusion: Michael G. Scott attempted to get into comedy and failed miserably, spending the rest of his life teaching history to annoying college students."
"Yeah," Pam laughed. They walked in silence for a moment, standing close together as though they were good friends.
Suddenly it registered to Pam that they were both walking in the same direction. She was heading back to her room, and wondered where Jim was heading to. She asked him as they walked, and she watched his out the corner of her eye.
"Back to my room." He sounded confused. "Why, where are you going?"
"My room, as well. You're in the Dunder-Mifflin block too, right?"
"Yeah, of course." He held the door open for her and they stepped outside.
It was pretty warm, and in the distance Pam could see other students lounging around on the grass, studying but mostly just relaxing in the nice weather. She was tempted to ask Jim if he'd like to sit with her for a while, but worried that it would seem weird, that they weren't at the point in their friendship yet where it would be acceptable to just hang out, outside of classes. Another day, she thought to herself, content in her knowledge that there would, definitely, be a time where they could hang out together.
They reached the door to her room far sooner than she would have liked. She pointed it out to him and he stopped in his tracks.
Pam leaned against the door, wondering what to say. "Goodbye?" "See you later?" "Bye for now?"
"Bye, then." Jim spoke before Pam had the chance. "I guess I'll see you around?"
He seemed nervous. (Why was he nervous?) "I mean, we have History again on Friday, right?"
"Yeah." He nodded quickly. "So, um. I'll see you then."
"Bye!" Pam said, a little too cheerfully, and she watched him disappear down the hall. He turned to go into the stairwell and she lost sight, so she unlocked the door to her own room, embarrassed by the fact that she was sort of trying to find out where he lived in the block.
FROM: Roy Anderson
TO: Pam
last night was rough lol
Pam checked the text he'd sent her, but didn't reply. Instead, she plugged her phone into charge, and set it screen down on her desk. The same strange feeling of guilt from before creeped in, just a little, but she ignored it.
There was WiFi in their dorm, so Pam used it to log into her Facebook, hoping to pass the time before her next class. There wasn't anything new: a couple drunken selfies Roy had been tagged in, and a couple posts made from people in her highschool complaining about college life already. Kelly had posted 3 times that day, but it was mostly nonsense, plus a couple of posts made by other people at school.
Pam only had one person from school as a friend on Facebook; Kelly, who was added mostly out of necessity given the fact they were going to be living together for at least the first school year. She knew there were groups for people in their dorm and in their block, but so far she hadn't been invited into any of them, and besides, she'd probably be too shy to talk to anyone.
Of course, she knew Jim. But she couldn't remember if he had told her his last name or not.
She wondered absentmindedly what the appropriate point was in a new friendship to add each other on Facebook.
She had had Art History once before, and since the seat she sat in the first time wasn't taken, she dumped her bag there. It wasn't the best seat in the class, as it was a little too far to the right for her to see the smartboard without craning her neck, but no one had claimed the seat next to her and she could spread out her things, so she didn't really mind.
Pam had only spoken a little to the other members of her class - Angela was in the class, but she sat right at the front, and didn't really talk unless to answer a question. An older woman named Phyllis sat directly in front of Pam, and on their first meeting had informed her that she was able to finally attend college as her husband, Bob Vance (of Vance Refrigeration, a company down town) was helping her pay. Finally, there was a larger man, Kevin, who confessed at the start of their first class that he was "only here to see some naked ladies", and was gravely disappointed when he was told what the class was actually about.
(Kevin reminded her a little of Roy, in some absurd way.)
The professor was a balding man in his late 50s, and he seemed to care about the subject of the class quite a lot. He liked to call on random members of the class to give their opinion on whatever topic he was currently discussing, and although Pam was usually nervous about being called on in classes, she found herself hoping to be chosen.
"This is seriously sad." Kelly said matter-of-factly, shaking her head at Pam, who was sitting cross-legged on her bed, attempting to comb her hair with her fingers.
"It's not that I don't want to eat with you, or anything like that." Pam assured her, hoping that Kelly would finally understand - the argument had been going on since Kelly arrived, at around 5, and she was now ready to leave, at half past 6.
"I just don't get it." Her expression suddenly turned soft, and Pam knew that she was only trying to help her, the best way she knew how. "Why would you want to stay cooped up all the time?"
"I just have a lot of studying to do." Pam gestured to her laptop, sitting open beside her. "I'd love to go to dinner with you and Ryan, I really would, but I need to use my free time wisely." She sounded exactly like her mother.
Kelly sighed once again, but pushed her arms through her jacket sleeves, and flicked her hair out. "Promise you won't spend the entire semester locked up in here every night?"
"I promise." Pam gave her a half-hearted smile, and watched as her roommate left.
I made a playlist for this fic! It's on 8tracks: /mynameisnotmya/like-real-people-do however I would say that it isn't great, as I had to use Soundcloud for all the tracks and many of them are poor quality and some are covers. I posted the tracklist on my writing tumblr: post/120630593812/lrpd-tracklist in case anyone's curious what the actual songs are meant to sound like.
Thanks so much for the reviews! they're really motivating :)