Chapter 9

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Jameson could tell something was bothering Liam the moment he sat beside him. Tense, somber, it made Jameson uneasy. It was always carefree with him, even when they were talking about their past.

"I'm moving," Liam told him, words that sent a shiver down Jameson's spine. "I didn't want to tell you, but you deserve to know. I can't stay here, this little town, I mean."

"Why not? When—"

"It's easier for blind people in bigger cities. More people, more accessibility."

Jameson shook his head. "But this is your home. These streets are like second nature to you. Wouldn't it be easier for you here? You said you knew the bus routes, knew exactly how many steps in what direction to take to get to the bus stops."

"Yes." Liam trailed his hand in the sand, tracing the drawn mountain range he made earlier. "I do, but the infrastructure here isn't made for blind people. Braille, crosswalk sounds, all those little things can't be found here. That, and to have a guide dog, it's better I move to the city for training."

"But you're terrified of dogs."

"I'll have to learn to depend on one. I can't depend on my mother and siblings all the time; it's unfair on them." Liam let out a shaky breath. "They've already done so much. With a dog, I'll be more independent, a little more, but it'll be worth it."

"So that's it? Moving to the city on your own?"

Liam couldn't help but sense hurt in his words. "Well, my family would move closer most likely, until I'm settled in and probably through the service dog training."

"Isn't that terrifying? Adjusting there all while your sight is fading?"

Liam bit his bottom lip, his tracing fingers pausing at one of the peaks of the mountain. "I'm utterly terrified of it. Change is scary, and just losing my sight is scary alone. It'll be stressful and nerve-wracking, but it'll be for the best."

But where does that leave this? Us? Me? Jameson wanted to ask, wanted to understand, but knew that Liam had a point. This place was ill-suited for him; he had seen it with the sketchy walkways, the cracking crosswalks, even with the outdated building codes that haven't been updated. It wasn't a safe place for Liam, but it still hurt, knowing that these days of just relaxing near the lake wouldn't be their ritual anymore.

An addiction, Jameson had realized that he never wanted to quit. Suddenly disintegrating right in front of him.

"So that's it then?" Jameson tried to remain level-headed, not sound even an ounce offended or hurt by Liam's declaration.

"I'm sorry," Liam had whispered, not voicing how much he did want to stay. These last weeks had been eye-opening and enlightening in a way. It had empowered both men, challenging and embracing the things they perceived.

The air was as stifling as it had been that summer they spent here, but Liam sighed, speaking first. "Shall we throw some stones in honor of our time here? Draw things in the sand like old times."

Despite the uneasy feeling that rocked their friendship, Jameson let out a smile, a brief puff of air before turning to Liam. "I'd like that."

They stopped to smile at each other, taking each other's face in before hunting for skipping stones. The earlier tension faded, seemingly eradicated with each stone they skipped. Of course, Jameson still struggled with his throws, Liam helping out and giving pointers. For hours, the two skipped stones, occasionally tracing patterns or their names in the sand.

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