The Scranton Branch

Part Two - Chapter 3

Part Two

Chapter 3

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My worries about Dylan soon turned into desire after another glass of punch. It was easy to be with him. He knew exactly what to do and say at the perfect moment. Friendly and curious about everyone, we traveled quickly around the casino tables gambling away more than $30. And suddenly Jim's issue was not my own. I forgot about him, out of spite and because Dylan was fascinating.

Though the night sludged together, I could recollect hearing Jim's door shut rather harshly sometime throughout the events of last night. I was not one for one night stands, but something with Dylan felt right--though as I sip on my tea, I have no intentions of seeing him anytime soon. Jim must've heard us last night. We must've been louder than I remember.

I knew he was awake. He was taking a shower as I kicked Dylan out earlier.

I knew I should walk in and ask him what happened last night.

I knew I should apologize about having someone over without letting him know.

I know I should stop standing outside his door with two cups of tea and just walk inside. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I had been terrible last night, obnoxiously loud and inconsiderate. I should've prepared myself for the mess of a man I knew would be inside waiting for this tea but instead I had been selfish and allowed Dylan to seduce me.

The door cracks open and his eyes decorate the black background of his room. I could see the way his lips are pressed in a hard line. I look up at him and offer him the tea. He nods and steps away from the door.

I follow him to his bed and give him the warm mug. He stares at the swirling liquid. Head hung low and shoulders slumped. I watch him carefully. Waiting for him to initiate a conversation.

His room is somewhat musky from the wet towels he hasn't hung up yet. A few clean clothes lay over his dresser, yet to be put away. His trash can in the corner is overflowing. Bed unmade.

I open my mouth but can't find the right words. Suddenly, he looks me straight in the eyes and lifts one side of his lips. I smile softly back, scooching closer to him and rustling the covers.

"Who was that last night?"

I'm slightly shocked at this being his first question. I swallow the surprise back and answer truthfully. Jim's eyes widen but he stays quiet and sips his tea. When I've finished apologizing for being inconsiderate, he stands and walks out of the room. I don't follow, my stomach dropping with every step he takes.

There's a violent crashing and I bolt to the kitchen, my favorite mug laying in pieces in the sink. Jim had thrown the cup in, hard, the rest of his tea running around the ceramic.

"What the hell, Jim?!" I shriek, pushing my own cup into his chest and stepping away too fast; he didn't make a move to catch it from my hands, that mug falling and splintering into pieces too. I jump and clench my fists, dodging the ceramic barely.

He stares at me with no expression in his eyes. His lips twitch very lightly, not enough for me to read how he's feeling. I can tell he doesn't care. My apology means nothing, if that's what he's even upset about. Maybe he's just being overly emotional thanks to whatever went down with Pam last night...

I stumble back and lean against the counter, huffing, wanting to scream at him. What if Pam had agreed to run off with him? What if this was his way of saying 'goodbye, Allie, you've been a sucky friend.'

"That's my favorite mug."

"Was your favorite mug," he shrugs, crossing his arms and leaning on the wall opposite me. I raise my brows and shake my head at him.

"You're an asshole."

"Well--"

"You know what, Jim, I don't want to hear it."

"Let me--"

"Let you explain?! You just purposefully broke two of my mugs, not yours, but mine. I won't even go into how my now dead father bought me that mug for my 18th birthday. And that you look like a complete idiot just standing there, waiting for me to clean up your mess, like usual," I take a breath, waiting for his blank expression to register any emotion. It doesn't. Instead of stopping, like I should've before I said something I would later regret, I continue.

"I could care less about what happened with Pam last night, if she agreed to run off with you, good for you. Leave. Get out of my apartment. I'm the one that makes sure to pay the rent on time anyways. I don't want to live with you if you're breaking things anyways. And," I let out an angry noise, not being able to stop the words spilling from my mouth, "and if she chose Roy over you--which she already has once before--good for her. She won't be missing out on much. At least Roy figured out how to make her happy, you can't even make your best friend, who happens to make your life easier, happy."

I look towards the sink and realize I'm crying. My cheeks are wet and vision blurry. I sniffle and use the back of my hand to clean my face. Jim steps beside me and reaches out, probably to wrap me in a hug, he always says he hates to see me cry. I pull away and shove him away.

"You know what, I'm done with this bullshit. Clean this up and call me when you've found another place to stay." I dart around his lanky figure and slam my bedroom door behind me.

It was only 11 am in the morning, why do I feel like I just made a terrible mistake? It didn't matter now. Everything I said and all the anger I felt was completely honest. I had been pissed at him for months now, since the incident with Paul occured. I just haven't been getting any reassurance from him recently, and he's been shitting on me at almost every turn in our relationship. The whole thing with Pam played into it, I suppose. Though I've been busy at the office with Michael and helping him sort through things with Jan and Carol, Jim has been careful to leave me to eat lunch alone, exclude me from conversations, and stop getting me tea. Once he even left me at the office when I worked one late night. I had to call Ryan to come get me (he's the only one out at 7:30 pm on a Wednesday night). In the apartment, Jim had been skipping out on rent and cleaning up. Almost on purpose too, because as soon as he sees I'm home or about to complain, he'll stop whatever he's doing and make sure to finish whatever he has to do. His procrastination is solely to piss me off.

I call my sister after I've packed a bag into the back of cab. Quickly, I explain everything to her and then try to enjoy the ride to New York.