Empathy - 1. Empathy

The last traces of evening light reflected off the river’s surface, gentle ripples lapping at the bank. Fourteen-year-old Adrian stood focused on the water, arms jammed into the pockets of his Country Day hoodie, rocking back and forth to shake off the December chill. His mother’s voice would soon cut through the twilight, calling him to get ready for her New Year’s Eve party, but for now, he savored the quiet.

School was looming, just days away, and Adrian’s thoughts were not as calm as the river. December had been a blur—a model UN conference, an orchestra performance, and a Christmas pageant, capped with semester exams. The frenetic pace left little time for reflection, and Adrian had welcomed the distraction. But in the slow days between Christmas and New Year’s, he'd considered his decision from all angles, and he knew that it was time to move forward. He’d known at some level he was headed to this place for most of his life, but he'd been certain for a couple of months now.

It was during the Savannah Riverside Oktoberfest, where Adrian and his older cousin had wandered among stalls, drawn to a booth set up by the local animal shelter. An attendant was trying to leash a rambunctious puppy, who lunged at a tiny Manx kitten. A flurry of white fur erupted when the kitten escaped, leading Adrian on a merry chase. He wove through various displays until he spotted her. She had rounded a corner and slipped into another booth and was now perched serenely in a cardboard box, licking her paw.

Adrian leaned over the table to coax her out, overbalanced, and went down, taking the table—and its neatly stacked pamphlets—with him.

“Son of a—” a gruff voice cut through the noise, followed by, “Are you just going to lie there?” Adrian gasped, still catching his breath. He pointed toward the kitten, who seemed utterly unbothered by the chaos she’d caused.

The voice’s owner extended a hand—a strong, tanned arm dusted with light golden hair. Mortified, Adrian gripped the warm and steady offering and scrambled to his feet, sliding on stray pamphlets as he found his footing. His cheeks burned as he mumbled, “Sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to wreck your booth.”

The guy, not too many years older than Adrian, smirked, brushing off the apology. “Don’t worry about it. I hope nothing is broken.”

Adrian met the stranger’s gaze and froze. Warm blue eyes held his own with a kindness and curiosity that made Adrian feel as if he was being seen for the first time. A strange mix of exhilaration and vulnerability washed over him.

“You good?” the guy asked, breaking the moment. Adrian blinked, nodding quickly as he bent to gather the scattered pamphlets: Chatham County Democrats, Register to Vote in Georgia, Upcoming Elections.

“Thanks,” the guy said, his smile easy. “By the way, would you or your kitten like to register to vote today?”

Adrian laughed despite himself. “I’m only a sophomore so it’ll be a few years.”

One of the volunteers from the animal shelter rounded the corner, her expression a mix of concern and relief as she spotted the kitten now curled up in the box, serenely napping.

“Here you are!” the volunteer said, scooping up the kitten with practiced ease. “This little troublemaker always finds a way to keep us on our toes.”

The guy behind the booth chuckled. “She’s got great taste in hiding spots. No harm done.”

Adrian smiled sheepishly, brushing off his jeans. “I’m really sorry again… uh, what was your name?”

“Dylan,” the guy said, extending a hand. “And you?”

“Adrian,” he replied, his voice steadier now. He shook Dylan’s hand, briefly reliving the warmth and strength he’d felt earlier.

“Well, Adrian, if you ever decide to get into politics—perhaps animal catcher?—you’ve got my vote.” Dylan’s grin was playful, and Adrian couldn’t help but laugh.

With the kitten safely returned and the booth mostly restored, Adrian and his cousin wandered off, but his thoughts lingered on the exchange.

He knew that the moment had been pivotal—Dylan’s kindness, the strange clarity he’d felt when their eyes met, the way his pulse had quickened.

The sound of his mother’s voice broke through his reverie, pulling him back to the present. “Adrian! Time to get dressed!”

“Coming!” he called, turning away from the river.

Walking back to the house, his resolve solidified. He thought back to Dylan's easy confidence. He wanted to become a man who was unafraid to be himself. Adrian wasn’t sure what coming out would mean for him. He knew there would likely be fallout on a number of fronts—whispers in the hallways, strained friendships, maybe worse. In any case, he wanted to start the new year as himself. He thought it would be better to know than to wonder.

As he climbed the porch steps, the door opened, and his mom peeked out, a bright smile on her face. “Hurry up! Guests will be here soon!”

Adrian smiled back, stepping inside and letting the warmth of the house wrap around him. He wasn’t entirely sure what the future would hold, but the weight on his chest felt lighter for having made the decision.