Culver City, Los Angeles
The first three weeks at Culver City High passed quickly.
Adrian fell into a routine. Wake up at six. Practice. School. Home. Homework. Practice again. Roof. Cigarette. Sleep.
Tyler talked to him every day. In English. At lunch. In Biology. Adrian responded with the bare minimum, but Tyler didn't give up.
Sarah sat next to him in History. Sometimes she borrowed pens. Sometimes she didn't. She was always late.
Carlos greeted him in the hallways. "Hey, Cole."
Emma worked silently in Art. Sometimes she commented on Adrian's work. Adrian nodded.
They weren't friends. They were... presences. People who existed in their orbit.
Shadow existed too. But differently.
The cat slept more each day. Ate less. Moved as if his joints ached.
Adrian noticed but said nothing. What could he say? Shadow was old. This happened.
Friday night. Third week of October.
Adrian arrived home at four. He dropped his backpack.
"Shadow."
Silence.
Adrian checked the sofa. Empty.
The kitchen. Nothing.
His room. Shadow was on the bed. Lying on his side. Breathing slowly.
"Hey."
Shadow opened his eyes. Closed them again.
Adrian sat on the bed. He placed his hand on the cat's side. He could feel the ribs. The thin fur. The fragile body.
"Have you eaten?"
Shadow didn't respond.
Adrian went to the kitchen. The food bowl was full. Untouched.
He returned to his room. Changed his clothes. He went downstairs to train.
But he couldn't concentrate. After twenty minutes, he went back upstairs.
Shadow was still in the same position.
Adrian sat next to the cat. He stroked him. Shadow purred. Weakly. Like an old engine.
"You should eat."
Shadow didn't move.
Adrian stayed there, stroking the cat, staring out the window, not really seeing anything.
When Rebecca got home, Adrian was still in the same position.
"Honey? Are you okay?"
Adrian looked up. "Shadow hasn't eaten."
Rebecca came into the room. She looked at the cat. Her expression changed. "Nothing all day?"
"No."
"I'm going to call the vet. See if they can see him tomorrow."
"Okay."
Rebecca made the call from the living room. Adrian heard her muffled voice, then silence, then footsteps.
"They have an opening tomorrow at ten."
"Okay."
Rebecca stood in the doorway. "Adrian... you know Shadow is very old, right?"
"Yes."
"Sometimes... sometimes there's just nothing that can be done."
Adrian continued stroking the cat. "I know."
Rebecca went to prepare dinner. Adrian stayed with Shadow.
Saturday.
Adrian woke up early. Shadow was still in bed. Breathing. But barely.
He didn't go downstairs to train. He just stayed there. Sitting. Watching the cat.
Rebecca knocked on his door at eight. "Adrian, we should leave in an hour."
"Okay."
"Have you had breakfast?"
"I'm not hungry."
"You should eat something."
"I'm fine."
Rebecca left. Adrian stayed there.
At nine they put Shadow in his carrier. The cat didn't protest. He just stayed there. Still.
Rebecca drove. Adrian in the passenger seat. The carrier on her lap.
She could feel Shadow breathing. Slow. Labored.
They didn't speak on the way.
The veterinary clinic smelled of disinfectant and something sweet trying to mask other odors.
They waited fifteen minutes. Other owners with their pets. A dog. Two more cats. A rabbit.
All alive. All moving.
Shadow was just breathing.
"Cole?" A young technician called his name.
They went into a small exam room. White walls. Stainless steel table. Animal anatomy posters.
The veterinarian came in. Dr. Ramos. In her forties. Kind but direct.
"What's wrong with Shadow?"
Rebecca explained. Adrian listened without saying anything.
Dr. Ramos took Shadow out of the carrier. The cat didn't protest. The doctor examined him in silence.
Stethoscope. Palpation. Temperature.
Three minutes that felt like thirty.
Finally, the doctor looked at Rebecca. Then at Adrian.
"His heart is failing. His kidneys too. At his age... these organs just wear out."
"Is there anything we can do?" Rebecca asked.
"We can give him pain medication. Keep him comfortable at home. But that would probably only give him a few days. Maybe a week. And he's going to get worse."
Silence. "Or," the doctor continued, her voice gentle, "we can let him go today. Painlessly. Asleep. Peacefully."
Rebecca covered her mouth. Her eyes filled with tears.
Adrian looked at Shadow on the table. The cat was lying on his side. Eyes half-closed. Breathing slowly.
Eleven years. Shadow had been there for eleven years.
"What do you think, Adrian?" Rebecca looked at him.
Adrian didn't know what to think.
He thought of Shadow waiting for him on the porch in Portland. Of Shadow following him everywhere. Of Shadow sleeping in his bed every night.
Of Shadow being the only thing that made him feel... anything.
"I don't want him to suffer," Adrian said. His voice was flat. But there was something underneath. Something small breaking.
Rebecca nodded. Tears falling. "Me neither."
He looked at Dr. Ramos. "Can we... can we be with him?"
"Of course. Take all the time you need."
The doctor left.
The room fell silent.
Rebecca approached the table. She stroked Shadow. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry." Her voice cracked.
Adrian stood there. Watching.
"Do you want to say goodbye?" Rebecca asked.
Adrian moved closer. He placed his hand on Shadow's back.
The cat opened his eyes. He looked at him. Pale green. Tired.
"Thank you," Adrian said quietly. "For staying with me."
Shadow blinked slowly.
Adrian didn't know what else to say. There were eleven years of things to say and no words to say them.
Dr. Ramos returned with a small tray. Syringes. Vials.
"I'm going to give him a sedative first," she explained. "He'll relax. After a minute, I'll give him the second injection. His heart will stop beating. It's peaceful. There's no pain."
Rebecca nodded, crying.
The doctor inserted the first needle into Shadow's paw. The cat didn't react.
Thirty seconds. Shadow relaxed. His breathing slowed. His eyes closed gently.
"Okay," the doctor said. "Last chance to change your mind."
"No," Rebecca said. "It's... it's the right thing to do."
The second injection.
Adrian watched.
Shadow's breathing slowed.
Slower.
One last small breath.
Then nothing.
His chest stopped moving.
"He's gone," Dr. Ramos said gently. She placed her stethoscope on Shadow's chest. She listened. "I'm sorry. I know this is difficult."
Rebecca wept. She hugged Shadow's body.
Adrian stood there.
Staring at the dead cat on the table.
Shadow was dead.
His father was dead.
Everything he touched died.
He should feel something, Adrian thought. He should be crying. Like Mom. Like a normal person.
But there was nothing. Just that familiar emptiness.
Dr. Ramos gave them time. Then, gently, "Do you want us to keep him? For cremation?"
Rebecca nodded, unable to speak.
"You'll receive his ashes in a week. There are papers to sign at reception."
Rebecca wiped her face. "Okay. Thanks."
She turned to Adrian. "Are you ready to go?"
Adrian looked at Shadow one last time.
The motionless body on the table.
Yes.
They drove home in silence.
Rebecca was crying. Trying to wipe her eyes as she drove.
Adrian stared out the window.
Shadow was dead.
Just like his father.
And Adrian hadn't cried for either of them.
How strange, he thought. Something's wrong with me.
They arrived at the apartment.
Rebecca went straight to her room. Adrian heard the door close. Then muffled sobs.
Adrian stayed in the living room. Staring at the empty sofa where Shadow used to sleep.
Then he went to his room.
The bed was empty. The place where Shadow slept every night. Empty.
Adrian sat on the edge of the bed.
He stared at the empty space.
Eleven years. Shadow had been there for eleven years.
Every day. Every night.
And now he was gone.
Adrian waited to feel something.
Sadness. Anger. Anything.
Nothing came.
"He was old," he said aloud to the empty room. "This happens."
His voice sounded normal. Calm.
As always.
He lay down. He stared at the ceiling.
He closed his eyes.
He didn't cry.
Sunday.
Adrian woke up.
For a second, he forgot.
He looked where Shadow should have been.
Empty.
Reality hit him again. Shadow was dead.
He got up. He got dressed.
He went downstairs to work out.
His body moved on autopilot. Push-ups. Sit-ups. Stretches.
But something felt... different.
Not heavier. Not lighter.
Just different.
He went back upstairs. He showered.
Rebecca was in the kitchen. Red eyes. A cup of coffee in her hands.
"Good morning."
"Good morning," Adrian said.
"How did you sleep?"
"Fine."
Rebecca looked at him. Searching for something in his face. "Adrian... it's okay not to be okay. Shadow was part of the family."
"I know."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"There's nothing to talk about. He was old. He died."
The words came out automatically. Logically.
But something in Adrian's chest felt...tight.
Rebecca looked at him for a long moment. "Okay," she said finally. Her voice sounded sad. Not because of Shadow. Because of Adrian.
Adrian ate cereal in silence.
Then he went to his room.
He sat on his bed.
He stared at the empty space.
And that tight feeling in his chest grew stronger.
He lay down. He closed his eyes.
He thought about Shadow. About his father. About eleven years of being...like this.
The tight feeling grew stronger.
Adrian tried to ignore it. He had ignored feelings for eleven years. He could ignore this one too.
But it didn't go away.
He lay there. An hour. Two.
The feeling growing.
Sunday afternoon.
Adrian couldn't take it anymore.
He got up. He left the apartment without telling Rebecca where he was going.
He walked. Without direction. He just walked.
Culver City was different from Portland. Warmer. Drier. More people.
He walked for an hour. Then another.
He ended up in a small park. Picnic tables. Playground equipment. Trees.
He sat on a bench.
He watched the children playing. The families. People living normal lives.
And that feeling in his chest—that tight feeling that had been growing all day—finally burst.
It wasn't gradual.
It was like glass shattering.
He felt something warm on his face.
He touched his cheek.
Wet.
He looked at his fingers. Confused.
Tears.
He was crying.
He didn't know when it had started. It was just... happening.
The tears fell. One. Another. Another.
Silent at first. No sobs. No sound.
Just tears. Adrian wiped his face with his sleeve. But they kept coming.
"Stop," he told himself.
They didn't stop.
He leaned forward. Elbows on his knees. Face in his hands.
And he wept.
Eleven years without crying. Eleven years without feeling anything.
And now he couldn't stop.
It wasn't just for Shadow.
It was for his father. Whom he never cried for. Whom he barely remembered.
It was for eleven years of not processing anything. Of being a machine. Of not connecting with anyone.
It was for the empty life he had lived.
It was for Rebecca crying alone in her room while Adrian felt nothing.
It was for Tyler trying to be his friend and Adrian being a wall.
It was for everything.
The tears kept falling.
His breathing became uneven. Gasping.
A sob escaped. Then another.
Adrian wept on that bench in a park he didn't know in a city that wasn't his home. He cried until he had no more tears left.
Until his throat ached.
Until only a different emptiness remained. Not the cold emptiness of before. But something... cleaner. More real.
He sat up straight. He wiped his face with his shirt.
He looked around the park.
The children were still playing. The families were still laughing.
The world had kept turning while Adrian broke down.
He took a deep breath. Trembling.
"How stupid," he said softly. His voice was hoarse. Used. "How stupid I've been."
Eleven years. Eleven years acting like a machine.
And for what?
To end up here. Alone. Crying in a park.
Shadow was dead. His father was dead.
And Adrian had wasted eleven years without truly living.
He thought of his mother. Who wasn't going to live forever.
He thought of Tyler. Who would probably give up eventually.
He thought of all those faces at school. Sarah. Carlos. Emma. Ashley. People who existed. People who could... matter.
If Adrian let them.
He sat there. Staring at his hands.
The insoles had given him skills. But they'd also made him cold.
And that coldness had almost cost him everything.
"No more," he said quietly.
He didn't know exactly what that meant. He wasn't going to change overnight. He wasn't going to suddenly become sociable.
But... something had to change.
He stood up from the bench. He started walking back to the apartment.
The sun was setting. The shadows were lengthening.
Adrian walked slowly. Thinking.
Shadow was gone. He couldn't change that.
But his mother was still here. Tyler was still here.
There was still... time.
To try.
To be more than a machine.
He arrived at the apartment as it got dark.
Rebecca was in the living room. She looked up when he came in. "Where were you? I was worried."
"Walking."
Rebecca looked at him more closely. "Are you okay? Your eyes are..."
Adrian touched his face. Probably still red. Swollen.
"I cried," he said. Simple. Honest.
Rebecca blinked. "What?"
"Because of Shadow. I cried."
Rebecca's face softened. She stood up. Walked over to him.
"Oh, honey."
She hugged him.
Adrian froze for a second. Then, slowly, he raised his arms.
He hugged his mother.
For the first time in years.
Rebecca wept against his shoulder. "It's okay. It's okay to cry."
"I know," Adrian said. His voice muffled.
They stayed like that for a minute. Two.
Finally, Rebecca pulled away. She wiped her eyes. "Did you eat dinner?"
"No."
"I'll make something. Pasta?"
"Okay."
Rebecca went to the kitchen. Adrian went to his room.
He sat on the bed. He stared at the empty space.
"Thanks, Shadow," he said softly. "For... for showing me this."
The room didn't answer. Of course it didn't.
But Adrian felt better for having said it.
He lay down. He closed his eyes.
For the first time in eleven years, he didn't fall asleep thinking about anything.
He fell asleep thinking about tomorrow.
About how he was going to try to be... different.
Not much. Just a little.
But something.