i'm back! AND it's almost been an entire year since I started this! what?

title taken from: "Sweet Sixteen" by Think About Life

Apparently, Karen had taken Pam's advice.

And, apparently, the advice had worked.

She said as so during the intensely awkward (though possibly only on Pam's part), and thoroughly one-sided talk, punctuated mostly by wishful sighs and joyous hand-flailing.

Afterwards, she had flurried out the room with a promise to "text if anything else comes up!" and Pam was left feeling even more confused than when the other girl had first entered.

She honestly didn't know what to feel. On the one hand, she should have been happy for Karen - she was a (new?) friend after all, and of course there was simply no reason not to be glad about her successes… On the other hand, well.

Had a part of her really wished Karen to fail?

So. He had given in. Apologised. Promised. And now, he had nothing to worry about…

Except that he did.

There was just something in her expression when he confronted her. She seemed callous, uncaring, which usually was just so unlike her.

He didn't know if he was doing the right thing - about anything, really. Sometimes he got the impression Pam was mad at him, and other times she just seemed skittery and bashful. But he just couldn't figure out why.

He had tried talking, tried reasoning, tried thinking it all over. He had put himself out there for her, and she turned him down. That was the end of the story, right?

Why waste time thinking about someone who didn't want him, when he could invest more time into someone who did?

The tears were a surprise. They arrived suddenly, burning her eyelids and clouding her head. OhGodohgodohgod.

Is this what heartbreak felt like?

Her mind flashed to 10th Grade. Sitting, cross legged, in the bleachers, waiting (im)patiently for Roy Anderson to notice her. At the time, the invisibility hurt. Like he was twisting a knife inside her chest with every missed look. At the time, she had thought she was heartbroken.

But this. God. This was being set on fire.

Her cheeks burned, sobs came out in crackles. Why was she crying?

It was pitiful. That was the worst part of it.

After around 10 minutes had passed (though it could have been an hour; she had no clue) a soft knock sounded at the door.

No. What now?

When she didn't answer, the knocking stopped for a second, then continued at a much louder volume.

It seemed as though whoever was at the door wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Somewhat irritated, she swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand before calling, "Come in!"

"I'm missing a mechanical pencil and I was wondering where the last place you saw it was- What's going on?"

Of all the people who could have stood on the other side of the door, Dwight was the last person Pam had expected to see. "Huh?"

"What are you doing?" He reeled back a little, adjusting the strap of his high-slung backpack, clearly overwhelmed. "What is this? Why are you crying?"

"Dwight, it's nothing. I don't remember seeing your pencil, but maybe it rolled under a desk or something? I can-"

"No. Something's not right." He took a few tentative steps forward, regarding her with a mix of curiosity and wariness. "Are you okay? Who hurt you?"

"No one - No one hurt me."

"Then why are you crying?"

Once again, she brushed at her face and cheeks. They were sticky and itchy and raw. "I'm fine."

Dwight waited a beat, simply watching her for a while, then surprised her. He moved and sat, carefully, next to her on the bed.

For some reason the simple gesture made her cry even more, and she ducked her head to hide the tears that escaped her eyes.

"I'm - I'm sure it's gonna be alright." Dwight said, awkwardly. He reached out a hand to pat her back, but refrained at the last minute. "I mean, maybe not, because you never know what'll happen int he future, I mean, we could be dead by tomorrow, like, eaten by bears or something, but. You know. It's probably gonna be alright. Like, 20, maybe 25% chance." His tone of voice was so transparently soothing, so Dwight-like, that Pam had to suppress a chuckle.

"Thanks, Dwight." Her words were interrupted by a sob, but she figured the sentiment got across all right.

They sat in silence for a while, before Dwight spoke, once again speaking in the same comforting tone. "So I'm guessing you're PMS-ing pretty bad, right now, huh?"

She covered her face with her hands.

Dwight slipped out her room a good 15 minutes later, checking (at Pam's request) before leaving to make sure no one saw. Neither of them particularly wished for rumours to spread.

From her doorway, she watched his huge backpack recede down the hall, turn a corner, and finally disappear out of sight.

If she had bothered to look, she would have noticed that something was missing from her room. A notebook, mostly empty, though usually sat next to her laptop in History.

Dwight had a plan to fix things.

next chapter will include a throwback to one of the earliest chapters! (chapter 4, if anyone's interested...)