The first class Tommy misses, Toby lets himself come up with an excuse. But then he misses the next, and the next, and he misses finals, and Toby isn't actually an idiot.

Tommy is dead. He makes himself think it, without flinching away. Tommy is dead, and it's his fault. He gave Tommy to Clay, and he saw Tommy slowly wasting away, and he didn't do anything, and now Tommy is dead.

(It wasn't even worth it. Jack stopped showing up to study group, and then Niki did, and Alex won't be getting in with Tampa's alliance after all, now that Karl's dead.)

Tommy being dead feels... weirdly impossible, for how much he had made himself come to terms with it. Like there has to be a mistake. It's Tommy. Tommy's not supposed to die first.

The thought is sort of reassuring, because Toby remembers hearing about the five stages of grief, and the first is denial. (Next is... bargaining, maybe? Or anger? Depression's in there somewhere, too. Well, he'll get there eventually. Right now he's in denial.) 

He wants to give Alex however many tokens he needs for drugs, but he has things he needs to do first.

First, he checks Tommy's room. Empty and picked-over, except for the blanket, pillow, and the scrap of fabric that was Tommy's baby blanket. Toby takes them.

Then, because the seniors are graduating soon, he copies a short message, over and over, haggles with as many British seniors as he can.

To Phil Soot:

Wilbur and Tommy are dead.

From Toby

It gets the job done, but it's not very detailed; it can't be, there isn't space.

But. Phil has an email. And there are graduating seniors, right now, who knew Tommy and Wilbur. Who might, if Toby plays his cards right, be convinced to take pity on them.

They're all normally busy, so he leaves lunch early to catch Tampa. He gets a lot of weird looks, but he tries to press on.