Page 38 of Pretty ’n Peak

Mateo deserved far better than that. So, he said what he knew was right. “In that case, I’m sure it will be hot for you. No matter what you enjoy or don’t, Master Carlos will take good care of you. Even if that changes mid-scene, he’ll adapt to it.”

“I know, just… Could I ask you some more questions today? If it wouldn’t bother you. I feel like you’ve been my anchor since I got here.”

Austin felt a touch at the edge of hand where it rested on the table. Just the barest brush along his finger.

He flipped his hand over and finally did what he’d been wanting to do since he heard that deep voice. Mateo’s palm was rough, but he had the gentlest touch as they nestled together.

“Of course, you can. Ask anything you want.”

That was just being a good mentor, right?

Austin didn’t know how two more hours slipped by, because it seemed like hardly any time had passed at all. Mateo’s breakfast came—with some friendly teasing from Sebastian—and when he was done they wandered out to the wide back porch where Austin could breathe in the crisp, mountain air.

Now they were getting ready to go mountain climbing, which certainly wasn’t how Austin had expected the day to go.

He hadn’t planned to do either of the offered activities. A kayak tour of the local wildlife wasn’t much fun without a companion to share it with when you couldn’t see anything. And mountain climbing just sounded like a lot of work, when he hadn’t had much energy for almost anything in so long. His big plan had been lounging around the yard or maybe taking a nap.

Yet here was, listening to Jamie’s instructions as they gathered to hike down the canyon.

Mateo had disappeared for a few minutes to grab the gear that he brought—because he was apparently that much of a climbing enthusiast—but now he was back at Austin’s side, a duffel strapped over his shoulder.

They hung back as the rest of the group started down the trail.

“What’s the path like?” he asked Mateo.

“Paved and very even, it looks like. But there’s a long drop down to the next level if you get too far off it.”

“Would you mind if I took your arm as we walked?”

“Sure. Just let me know what to do.”

“Just walk a step ahead of me, and let me hold on to your elbow. If you could tell me when we’re about to turn, and which direction, that would help a lot.”

“Of course.”

Austin curled his hand around Mateo’s arm. To Austin’s secret delight, Mateo had changed into a t-shirt when he went up stairs, and now there was just smooth, warm skin.

He had an urge to stroke it, but he tamped it down.

Mateo had signed up to guide him, not be molested as they walked. Consent in one situation wasn’t a blanket ticket for the future.

Mateo started walking, and Austin fell into step beside him, cane still held in front of him.

“So, just how much can you see? If that’s OK to ask.”

“Yep, that’s fine. As for how much I can see, I have a pretty good sense of where the path is, since it’s so much lighter than the stuff on the sides. I think there are some pink bushes?” He continued when Mateo hummed assent. “I know there are people ahead of us, but they’re just blobs. I think… someone wearing a red shirt right there? And the one next to him is probably wearing white or pink.”

“Yellow, actually.”

Austin rolled his eyes. “Yellow, of course. I lost most of my blue-yellow color vision, so everything is pretty much shades of red or teal. I can see better when it’s really close, but anything further out than those people is just a hazy blur.”

“What happened?”

It was a well-worn story. “Pituitary tumor when I was fourteen. One day, I was playing soccer with my friends, the next day my whole world went blurry. My parents thought that maybe I had a concussion so I guess they scheduled some tests, but I was so scared that I started crying in the middle of first period algebra the next day. It was obviously mortifying. But it got me to a hospital and they operated that afternoon. The damage had been done, though. Optic nerve atrophy.”

“There’s no surgery to fix it or anything?”

“Just removing the tumor. But the nerves were already dead. They don’t come back. I just have to make the best use of the vision I have.”