“We will take care of it right now,” Zane blusters, clearly trying to smooth things over. Serena nods reluctantly.
Then she turns and leaves.
When the door clicks shut, I rush back to the bed and scoop the kitten into my arms. “Shh, it’s okay,” I whisper, my voice breaking just a little. “We’ll find you somewhere safe.”
Zane, trying to lighten the mood, sets the empty tuna bowl aside. “You know,” he says with a weak grin, “pretty sure this kitten’s already more emotionally available than half the frat row.”
I almost smile, but the lump in my throat won’t let me. Instead, I just shake my head. Zane gently pats my shoulder, and he means well—I know he’s proud of me for being nice to a stray—but all I can feel is numbness creeping in. I look at the kitten. He’s back on the bed now, curling up against a pillow, snoozing after his big meal, untroubled by any of this.
The shelter building is narrow and squat, painted a fading blue, with a small parking lot mostly empty. A single lamppost shines over the entrance where a neon sign flickers.Open Late.
I hold the kitten, who I have named Cosmo, like a football against my chest. He’s falling asleep again, eyes half-closed. When I glance at Zane, he smiles back at me. “He’s pretty cute.”
Inside, we’re greeted by a kind woman at the front desk—Linda, the shelter volunteer. Her eyes crinkle when she smiles at me. I kneel to look Cosmo in the face. He seems aware of the moment, trembling a bit, but still trusting in me.
“He’s beautiful,” Linda says softly.
“I’m glad to hear he’s a boy. His name is Cosmo.”
Already, I feel ridiculous, naming him when I knew I’d have to give him up.
She gently takes Cosmo from my arms, and he stretches his paws as if accepting this as his rightful place now. She coos, “Ready for a new home?”
Zane steps forward with a plate of leftover tuna packed in a to-go container. “He ate some already, but I brought a bit more just in case.”
Linda smiles at him. “That’s sweet. Feeding them tuna isn’t the best thing, usually, but I’m sure the little guy appreciated the meal. Thank you both so much for bringing him in.”
“Thank you for caring for the… animals here.”
“He’s safe now,” she assures me. “We have volunteers overnight, and we’ll make sure he’s checked and gets whatever he needs.”
I nod again. There’s nothing more to say.
Zane clears his throat. Finally, he rests a comforting hand on my shoulder and squeezes gently. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s head out.”
The night is silent outside the shelter, and Zane walks beside me in silence for a block. Under the streetlights, he checks his phone and presses a foot on the curb. “I want to say something, but I don’t know what to say.”
I glance at him from the corner of my eye, then turn my gaze forward. “Me either. Shit sucks.”
As we round the corner toward Cromwell Hall, I seehim.
Dredyn mother fucking Steele.
He looks carved from shadow. One boot braced against the post, hands shoved in his pants pockets.
What the fuck is he waiting for? Did he see me go into the goddamn shelter?
Zane is still talking, voice casual and half-laughing—something about founding a campus rescue-cat society with matching embroidered sweatshirts. But then he sees my face, following my gaze.
“Oh. Shit.”
Dredyn’s eyes lift slowly. First to Zane, then to me. They stay there—anchored.
“Why are you crying?”
Son of a bitch. Zane shifts immediately, stepping half a pace in front of me, ready to physically body-block me. “That’s your opener? Jesus, you’re a real charmer.”
I scrub a shaking hand beneath my eye. “It’s none of your business.”
