After All

Terry forgot to eat again. All the late-night delivery drivers know him by name. Tonight is Thai food; Terry found an old coupon in his jeans. He made the call about an hour ago. Taps his feet while drumming on his desk.

“Shut up! I’m trying to study,” his roommate, Tom, yells. He’s prepping for some important standardized test.

Terry puts his hands in his pockets and crosses his legs. Tom is an old friend. After graduation, they Facebooked each other daily. Gave each other witty texts. Rarely would call. Terry would say he had limited minutes on his phone plan. He’d say that to everyone. Daily messages turned into weekly messages that turned into monthly messages that turned into nothing. Terry ended up deleting his roommate’s number. Couple years later, Terry gets a call from an unknown number. Ignores it. The person would probably try and leave a voicemail and would fail. Whenever Terry first gets a phone, he calls his phone and fills up the voicemail. It takes about an hour, but it’s worth it. His friends complain. Terry says it’s just a technical error, that he’ll call to fix it. Doesn’t.

Terry checked his email the next day because his boss told him to. Finds an email from Tom. After checking his spam box, he opens Tom’s email.

Hey Terry,

I haven’t talked to you in ages. I tried calling yesterday, and I tried leaving a voicemail. I hope all is well. What have you been up to since graduation? Are you still in town? I’m moving back. Unfortunately, my old job fell apart; the company went in the tank. You must have seen it in the news. I remember you used to check that website everyday. You used to tell me all about the possible dangers in the economy. I remember how bored and uninterested I was. I wish I listened. You were always right.

I’m trying to get back on my feet. I decided to go back to school, find a new career. It’s been tough getting back into study mode. I haven’t studied in years.

If you’re still in town, let’s grab coffee sometime. I really hope to hear from you soon. I’ll give you a call later this week.

Sincerely,
Tom

Terry closed his web browser. He opened up his cellphone and texted the unknown number.

“is this tom? - Terry”
A couple seconds later, he gets a reply.
“Yes! How are you? It’s so good to hear from you.”
“u too.”
“I guess you saw my email.”
“yea”
“Are you free tomorrow?”
“no”
“When are you free?”
“fri night.”
“Great. Let’s meet up at the coffee shop near the student union at 6.”
“closed down”
“Really? We loved that place. How about the food court? Same time.”
“sure, see u then.”

Terry snapped his phone closed. Went straight to bed.

Terry stood by the door to the food court. Stared at his shoes.
“Terry? Terry! It’s so good to see you!” Tom wrapped his arms around Terry. Terry patted Tom on the back. Tom’s much paler than Terry remembers. His hair was combed, but there’s a cowlick jabbing out. He had a dress shirt and khakis that hung too loose. Terry didn’t feel the old baby fat on Tom. Withheld a comment.
“Same,” Terry said.
“Let’s grab a bite to eat first. I’m starving,” Tom said. “Let’s sit over there.” He points to the table by the windows.

Terry went to the Chinese place. Tom went to the burger joint. Tom sat first.
“Same old, same old right? You always used to order that,” Tom said.
“That’s massive,” Terry said. The meat in Tom's burger is thicker than the buns.
“I told you I was starving. Let’s dig in.”
Tom’s burger disappears in a few bites. Terry’s stomach grumbles. He races to finish first.
“Beat cha,” Tom said.
Terry’s mouth is full. Chews and chews and chews.
“Heh, you must have been hungry too.”
Terry nods his head.
“You ate too quickly. You always ate too quickly. Do you still forget to eat breakfast and lunch?”
Terry gulps. Smirks back at Tom.
“So where are you working these days?” Tom asks.
“Same place.”
“You hated that place though.”
“Still do.” They both slurp at their drinks. Terry finishes his first.
“You never liked small talk,” Tom said.
“Never,” Terry repeats.
“I’ll cut to the chase. I’m staying at the motel on the edge of town.”
“It has bedbugs.”
“I remember. Laid down some plastic bags.” Terry notices a red dot on Tom’s wrist.
“So I’ve been looking around for an apartment. I found a great deal, but it’s a double. I was wondering if you were looking for a new place too?”
“Maybe.”
“You were the best roommate in college. I miss living with you.”
“Me too.”
“How about it? The realtor is asking for a signature as soon as possible. I told him to hold on to it.”
Tom coughs into his elbow.
“You still smoking?” Terry asks.
“Way too much. A pack a day.”
“You should quit.”
Tom stifles another cough.
“What do you think?”
“Well, I have been thinking a lot about moving out. My landlord sucks. And the place is too noisy.”
“This place is a great deal. No realtor’s fee. I double checked the guy’s references. It’s all good.”
“So how much per month?”
“Five hundred.”
“That is a lot cheaper than my place now.”
“You living by yourself?”
“Yup.”
“Well, that explains it.”
“So how soon do I have to decide?”
“The guy said some other people might pick it up. It’s really a great deal. There’s no security deposit. Just an initial maintenance fee.”
Terry looks again at the red dots on Tom’s arm. Tom smells like cheap soap and tap water. Terry thinks back and recognizes Tom’s shirt. It still has that bleach stain from that time Terry tried to do the laundry.
“Sure. Why not,” Terry said.
“That’s great!” Tom beamed. His shoulders relaxed. He sat up more.
“Let’s go sign before those other people take it,” Terry said.
“I agree. Let’s go.”

It’s been a couple months since they moved in together. Terry’s side is messy, like always. The food arrives.
“Ordering in again?” The delivery driver quips.
“Again,” Terry says.

Terry shoves a twenty into the driver’s hand and snatches the food. Cracks open the box. A pungent smell fills the apartment.
“Did you order food again?” Tom asks.
“What do you think?”
“I should teach you how to cook. You’ll save so much money.”
Meanwhile, Terry gobbles up his dinner. He’s standing in the kitchen. His fork scrapes the sides. Bits of peanut dribble down the side of his cheek. He slurps up the noodles and a trail of sauce lingers on his chin.

“Stop eating like that!” his roommate yells.
“Eating like what?” Terry responds.
“God damnit, I can hear you from my room.”
“Oh ok. Sorry”

Terry looks at his new videogame, but he can’t play it now. He hasn’t even bothered unwrapping it. On his desk, the newest game magazine lies open. the review for the game is on the revealed page. Underneath the two page screenshot, in bold letters reads, “Game of the Month.”

He can see Tom through his mostly shut door. Studying hard, like always. Tom’s room is even messier. Taped upside down on his door, there are several rejection letters from colleges. Terry looks at the kitchen table. His paycheck is there, one set of numbers that says money before taxes, and one set of numbers that mock him. He’s at the same job. Sits down in one of their stolen chairs.

He pictures his roommate’s face in the bowl. Pictures his seedy eyes and his too thin cheeks. He stabs down at his empty bowl. Stabs again.

“Fuck you and fuck you and fuck you some more,” he mutters.

His roommate’s imaginary eyes split like tomatoes. As Terry jabs downs, the bowl cracks a bit. Terry breaks from his fantasy. He is painfully aware of the sauce all over his face. He grabs a napkin and scrubs his face. He licks off the last of the sauce off of his lips.

“All done?” his roommate calls from his room.
“How could you tell?”
“You stopped slurping.”

Terry gets up to wash his face. Makes eye contact with his roommate. His roommate averts his gaze.

“Did he hear me curse?” Terry wonders to himself.

Terry sits on his bed. Starts doodling. Doodles turn into drawings that turn into complex structures that turn into passion. It’s the only drawing in his sketchpad. Stops. Rips it out trashes it. On the bottom of his wastebasket, there’s the pieces of an application. Terry takes out his phone and flips through the photos. Reaches the graduation photo. Terry has his arm draped over Tom’s shoulder. Tom’s crying. Terry closes his phone and holds it to his chest.

His stomach grumbles. Gets back up to make instant noodles. He’s sure to slurp even louder this time.