Tom meanwhile couldn't be more miserable. He'd hardly gotten out of bed, he'd missed a union meeting for the first time in years, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd hit the gym. Cliff had tried getting him out more, but every time he'd refused. Casey, meanwhile, had finally gotten worried. If Tom was depressed and hurt himself they'd have the R.A. and various other figures combing the dorm, and that risked their booze stash, or worse yet their collection of tankΕbon. Casey walked into Tom's room. Tom was on his side, his face towards the wall. Casey poked him, making sure he was still alive.
"Hey. Get up." they said. Tom rolled over. He looked terrible. His skin was pale, his eyes were slightly bloodshot, and he'd started to grow a shaggy unkept beard. Not to mention he smelled bad.
"What?" Tom asked.
"You need to go do something," Casey said. "You've been laying around in the dorm too much". Tom stared unamused.
"Pot meet kettle." he said, turning back over. Casey prodded Tom.
"It's three in the afternoon, hit the gym or something."
Tom waved his hand dismissively at the suggestion. Casey rolled their eyes.
"Welp" they sighed "Guess there's no choice."
They left the room, then came back with a folding chair and a stack of thick books. They sat the folding chair right next to Tom's bed. Tom rolled over.
"The hell are you doing?"
"Well, if you're just gonna use your bed, then I'm going to use the rest of your room. Consider this an annexation." said Casey.
"Since when are you a Stalinist?" Tom asked, some annoyance in his voice.
"Since you showed signs of mental health issues that could risk my drinks and my secrets." said Casey, picking up a hardcover of Gramsci's Prison Notebooks.
"Liking Vampire Knight and Bleach hardly justifies bothering me. Now fuck off." Tom said.
Casey ignored him.
"Casey, I mean it, screw".
Casey continued to ignore him. Finally, Tom realized Casey was gonna be adamant about this, and sighed in defeat.
"OK, what's it take to get you to go away?" Tom asked. Casey glanced at him.
"Take a shower and do something to feel better. You've been too mopey. Oh, and shave. That beard looks bad," they said. "I'll leave when you've showered and changed."
Tom rolled out of bed, grabbed a change of clothes, and hit the shower. He was tempted to use Casey's body wash, but he knew he'd never hear the end of that, especially since they were being so adamant about bothering him. He washed up, shaved, and changed into a white tank top and some khaki shorts. He went back into his room, opened his sock drawer, and put something from it into his pocket.
"I'll be back in a few." he said, leaving the dorm. Casey moved the folding chair and the books out, then relaxed in their armchair. Quite some time passed, and a heavy rainstorm started up. Casey started to wonder where Tom had went. They got up to grab their cell, only to find the battery was dead. They sighed and looked around the dorm. He wasn't back yet, and his keys were on the kitchen table.
"Aw for the love of Engels" they thought. They bolted downstairs and exited the building, not even bothering to grab a raincoat or an umbrella.
As they walked out the door, they caught Tom in their peripheral vision just under the awning of the entry to the dorms.
"Hey." he said.
"Where have you been?" Casey asked.
"At the gas station." he said. He was wet with rain water. His hair was soaked, and his white tank top was see through. Despite the inactivity, his chest remained as rock solid as ever. Ordinarily Casey would've paid more attention to that, but then Tom went digging furiously into his pockets, and pulled out a pack of smokes and a lighter. Casey's eyebrows went north.
"Since when do you smoke?" they asked. Tom pulled a cigarette out and started fidgeting with the lighter, trying to get it to go.
"Haven't in a year," he said "I quit shortly before I met Sydney. But fuck it, not like I got anything else to go to." He kept flicking the lighter, trying to get it to go.
"May I?" Casey asked, holding their hand out. Tom handed the lighter to Casey, who proceeded to chuck it as far as they could into the rainstorm.
"What the fuck?!" Tom said.
"Cigarettes are bad for you. Come on, come drink with me." said Casey.
"Yeah, cuz that's a healthy alternative." Tom scoffed.
"One of these things harms you and everyone around you. The other is fun," said Casey. "Besides I haven't had a drinking buddy in forever and Cliff's a Maoist, so he doesn't touch the bottle. So come drink and be merry."
Tom rolled his eyes and started walking towards the direction Casey had thrown his lighter in. Casey, deciding enough was enough, grabbed Tom by the arm and dragged him inside. Once they were in, Tom yanked his arm away from Casey.
"Oh sweet Althusser you could bend steel with those." Casey thought.
"Will you quit pissing me off?" Tom asked, his temper now reaching a boiling point.
"I want to help you." Casey said flatly.
"You can help by going back into your part of the dorm and reading Capital for the eightieth time!" Tom growled.
"I did that for two weeks and you became a mess. You just had a bad breakup. Let me help you this one night, and then I promise I'll leave you alone." said Casey.
Tom wiped his face in frustration.
"And you'll fuck off?" Tom asked.
"Whatever you do is your choice after that." said Casey. The two made their way back to the dorm. Casey locked the door behind them as an act of good measure.
They went into their room, and came back with a small cooler filled with various fifths.
