Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

I knew a boy, once when I was small

A towhead blond with eyes of salt

He played the drums in the marching bed

His parents cared more about the bible

Than being good to their own child.

He wore long sleeves ‘cause of his dad

And somehow, we fell out of touch

Hope he took his bad deal and made a royal flush

Don’t know if I’ll see you again someday

But if you’re out there

I hope that you’re ok.

Hope ur ok- Olivia Rodrigo

___

Eddie Diaz’s 10th birthday fell on a scorching hot day in May, the kind of day where the sun painted golden patterns on the pavement, and the air smelled of fresh-cut grass and blooming flowers. The morning began in the most chaotic yet heartwarming way possible—he was jolted awake by the excited giggles and bouncing movements of his little sisters. Well, at least one of them was bouncing. Sophia, the energetic whirlwind of the family, was jumping up and down on his bed with boundless enthusiasm, her golden-brown curls bouncing with each leap. Meanwhile, Adriana, the more reserved of the two, simply stood beside his bed, her big, warm brown eyes watching him with pure adoration before she gave him a sweet, dimpled smile.

“Happy birthday, Eddie!” she said softly, her voice filled with genuine affection.

Eddie grinned, his still-sleepy eyes twinkling with delight. He reached over and ruffled Adriana’s dark locks affectionately. “Thanks, Bug,” he whispered in a conspiratorial tone, using the nickname he had given her when she was a toddler. He loved both of his sisters equally, no question about it, but there had always been a special bond between him and Adriana. Maybe it was because they were closer in age—she was going to be eight in just three months, which made her much nearer to his own world than Sophia, who had only recently turned four.

Deciding that he had let Sophia jump on his bed long enough, he playfully shoved her off, causing a burst of giggles to erupt from the tiny girl as she tumbled onto the floor. With a victorious chuckle, Eddie finally climbed out of bed, stretching his limbs dramatically, as if greeting the first day of his double-digit years with grandeur.

Today, he was ten.

That meant everything had to be just right, including his outfit. He rummaged through his closet, carefully selecting his attire for the day. His final choice? A pair of slightly worn-out denim shorts and a plaid button-up shirt that was way too big for him. But it had been a gift from his Abuelo, and that alone made it perfect. The oversized fabric might have drowned his frame, but to Eddie, it made him feel older—more grown-up, more like the kind of man his father always talked about him becoming.

As he made his way to the kitchen, the rich, buttery scent of pancakes filled the air. His mother stood by the stove, expertly flipping pancakes with the grace of someone who had done it a thousand times before.

“Hola, Edmundo, mi bebé. Happy birthday, my love.”

She turned to him, her dark eyes soft and affectionate as she leaned down to plant a warm kiss on his forehead. Eddie, despite himself, straightened up slightly, puffing out his chest. He wasn’t sure why, but now that he was ten, he wanted everyone in the house to see that he wasn’t a little kid anymore. He was in the double digits now, practically a grown man! Just like his father always said a real man should be.

And speaking of his father—

The back door creaked open, and in stepped his dad, dusted with traces of dirt from tending to the garden outside. Eddie expected the usual casual greeting, but instead, his father’s deep brown eyes settled on him with something rare—something Eddie only caught glimpses of from time to time. Pride.

“Edmundo,” his father said, his voice steady and strong, “my firstborn. Happy birthday.”

Eddie’s heart swelled, and he stood even taller. He wanted to be big. He wanted to be strong. He wanted his father to look at him like this all the time.

“Thank you,” Eddie replied politely, though a pleased grin tugged at his lips.

Breakfast was wonderful, filled with laughter and the occasional argument between his sisters over who got to sit closer to him. But the best part of the morning was when his parents handed him a small, elegantly wrapped box. Inside was a watch—sleek, silver, and undeniably expensive-looking.

He didn’t want to seem ungrateful, he really didn’t. But as he stared at the shiny timepiece, a small weight settled in his chest. This wasn’t the kind of thing he could wear while running through the dusty fields, climbing trees, or playing soccer with Liam. This was something delicate, something that belonged in an office or a fancy dinner. So, with careful hands, he placed the watch back in its box, thanked his parents earnestly, and later, when no one was watching, he hid it safely under the loose floorboard in his bedroom.

Because today wasn’t about expensive gifts.

Today was about fun.

By the time his mother dropped him and Adriana off at school, Eddie was practically buzzing with excitement. He couldn’t wait. Because the best part of birthdays, aside from the cake and the presents, was that for one whole day, everyone treated you like a king.

“I’ll pick you both up this afternoon,” his mom called from the car window as she drove off.

Adri looked up at him, smiling. “Have fun, Eddie!” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before darting off to her group of friends, leaving him standing at the school entrance with a grin still plastered on his face.

And then, just as he was about to head inside, Liam appeared.

Liam was his best friend, and like always, he was grinning through the gap where his front tooth used to be. In one hand, he held a cupcake, slightly squashed from the journey, and in the other, a small gift bag.

“Happy birthday, Eddie!” Liam beamed, his excitement barely contained.

Eddie’s eyes lit up. “Thanks, Liam!”

Liam held out the cupcake, and Eddie noticed the messy yet heartfelt attempt at frosting the words “Happy B-Day” on top. The letters were a little cracked, the icing slightly smudged, but to Eddie, it was perfect.

“I made it myself,” Liam announced proudly.

Eddie was genuinely impressed. “Whoa, really?” He took the cupcake reverently. “That’s awesome! Thanks, dude.”

But Liam wasn’t done yet. He thrust the gift bag into Eddie’s hands. Inside was a book—one about dinosaurs, their favorite topic of discussion during recess.

“This is for you too,” Liam said, rocking on his heels, clearly eager to see his reaction.

Eddie looked up at his best friend, his heart brimming with gratitude. “This is the best, Liam. Seriously.”

And as he flipped through the pages, already spotting his favorite species among the illustrations, he knew one thing for sure—this was going to be the best birthday ever.

__

Eddie’s birthday had been wonderful—at least at school. He and Liam had every class together that day, which made everything ten times better. Even math, despite the fact that the problems were getting more difficult, felt more fun when they struggled through them together. But the best part of the day was recess. The two of them sat in their favorite shady corner of the playground, flipping through the dinosaur book Liam had given him. Eddie adored Liam in the way that only a ten-year-old could—with the kind of absolute devotion reserved for best friends.

They hadn’t known each other for that long—only about two years, ever since Liam had moved to El Paso with his dad—but from the moment they met, they had been inseparable. Liam’s dad was nothing like Eddie’s. While Eddie’s father was strict and demanding, Liam’s dad, Bill, spent hours helping Liam with his homework if he didn’t understand it and read him bedtime stories at night. He never missed a single soccer game, always cheering just as loudly for Eddie as he did for Liam.

Eddie strongly suspected that Bill was the real mastermind behind the delicious cupcake Liam had given him that morning, but a gift is a gift, and he certainly wasn’t about to complain. The two boys split the treat evenly, savoring every bite.

After school, Eddie’s mom picked him and Adriana up. The walk home was filled with a heated debate over which kind of ice cream they should have with dinner that night. Adriana won, of course—she always had the better arguments. But Eddie didn’t mind. It was his birthday, and nothing could ruin his good mood.

That evening, the whole family gathered for his birthday dinner. His Tía Pepa and Tío came over, along with his beloved Abuelo and Abuela. The table was filled with laughter, stories, and delicious food. Eddie loved these moments, the warmth of family, the sound of everyone talking over each other, the feeling of belonging.

And then, like all good things, the evening began to wind down. The kitchen was filled with the sounds of clinking dishes as his mother and Tía Pepa washed up. In the girls room, Abuelo was reading to Adriana while Abuela tucked Sophia into bed. Tío had stepped outside for a cigarette, and at first, Eddie’s father had been with him—until he called Eddie into the now-empty living room.

“Edmundo, come here,” his father said, motioning him over.

Eddie hesitated for only a moment before walking over and sitting on the couch across from his father’s armchair.

“Now that you’re ten,” Ramon said, his voice low and serious, “it’s time for you to grow up. It’s time for you to become a man.”

Eddie sat up straighter. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? For his father to see him as an equal, as someone worthy of respect?

His father’s sharp eyes met his. “When I’m not here, it’s your job to be the man of the house. That means taking care of your sisters. Taking care of your mother. Do you understand?”

Eddie nodded quickly, though the words felt heavy in his chest. He didn’t quite understand, not really. But he wanted to. More than anything, he wanted his father to be proud of him.

“Use your words, boy.”

“Yes,” Eddie said firmly. “I understand.”

Ramon studied him for a long moment before nodding in approval. He reached out and clapped a firm hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “Good. Now go say goodnight to your mother and get to bed.”

Eddie obeyed, pressing a kiss to his mother’s cheek before retreating to his bedroom. Once inside, he stood in front of his mirror, staring at his reflection. He didn’t look any different than he had yesterday. Not older. Not like ten.

His hair was a little messy, curling slightly at the ends in a way he didn’t quite like. It didn’t look grown-up enough.

Determined to change that, he grabbed a pair of scissors from his desk and stood in front of the mirror again, ready to do something about it.

Just as he was about to make the first cut, his bedroom door creaked open, and Adriana slipped inside.

“What are you doing?” she asked immediately, her dark eyes narrowing as she saw the scissors in his hand.

“What are you doing?” he shot back. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

She crossed her arms, unimpressed. “I snuck out. Now answer me—what are you doing?”

“I’m cutting my hair.”

“Why?”

Eddie hesitated. “Because I look like a kid.”

Adriana frowned. “I like your hair.”

“Well, I don’t,” Eddie muttered.

Adriana sighed dramatically. “Fine. But if you do it, it’s gonna look awful. Let me do it.”

Eddie eyed her skeptically. “You know how to cut hair?”

She shrugged. “No. But I’ll still do a better job than you.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Eddie relented and sat down on the edge of his bed. Adriana got to work, her small hands surprisingly steady as she snipped away at his dark curls.

Five minutes later, she stepped back. “Done.”

Eddie stood and turned to the mirror. His hair was shorter now, neater. He looked different—maybe not exactly older, but not quite the same either.

He looked a little more like his father.

And he liked that.

Adriana grinned. “Looks good, hermano.”

Eddie returned the smile and reached out, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. “Thanks, Bug.”

She beamed at the nickname before turning toward the door. Just before she left, she paused and looked back at him, her face unusually serious.

“Happy birthday, Eddie,” she said softly. “But don’t grow up too fast, okay? Grown-ups are always so serious.”

Then, before he could respond, she slipped out of the room.

Eddie turned back to his reflection. He did look a little different. A little older. And a little more like his father.

And that, he decided, was exactly what he wanted.

Because he was ten now. And ten meant he was finally a man.

Liam got his first car on his 16th birthday, and if it had been anyone else, Eddie might have sunk into the ground with jealousy. But since it was Liam—his best friend in the entire world—he was actually thrilled. Besides, Eddie wouldn’t turn 16 for another six months, so having a best friend with a car was basically the next best thing to having one himself. It was a luxury he intended to enjoy to the fullest.

Eddie spent most of his afternoons at Liam’s house. He loved Bill, Liam’s dad, and honestly, he preferred being there rather than at home, where his mom and sisters were always busy with piano lessons, dance classes, and a million other things. The house was always loud, always filled with movement, and Eddie felt like he was just a shadow in the background. But no matter how much he enjoyed being at Liam’s, he always made sure to go home at night. His father had set a strict rule years ago—no sleepovers, not even at Liam’s—and Eddie knew better than to break it. Even if his father was gone on business trips more often than not, Eddie didn’t want to give him a reason to be even harder on him.

“See you tomorrow,” Eddie said as he stepped outside.

Liam leaned against the doorframe, flashing him that familiar cocky grin. Puberty had treated Liam well—he was taller now, muscular, his blond hair had darkened slightly with golden streaks from the Texas sun, and his green eyes burned like embers in the night. Girls were obsessed with him, and Eddie, standing beside him, often faded into the background. His Abuelo always said the Diaz boys took their time with puberty, but honestly, Eddie didn’t care. He didn’t want the attention of girls anyway. He had Liam. What more did he need?

“See you tomorrow,” Liam echoed, before shutting the door behind him.

Eddie sighed, pulling his jacket tighter around himself. December in Texas wasn’t as brutal as up north, but the nights could still be chilly. He couldn’t wait for summer to come back. He hopped on his bike, taking his time pedaling down the quiet streets. His house wasn’t far, but he wasn’t in a hurry to get there. His father was coming home tonight—from where, Eddie wasn’t even sure anymore. His business trips had blurred together, but what Eddie did know was that his presence always shattered the fragile peace in their home.

Eddie pulled up to the house, parking his bike by the porch. He rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them up, and glanced up at the sky. The stars twinkled above him, scattered across the vast darkness. Liam could name every constellation, but Eddie couldn’t. He wished he could. It seemed like a nice thing to know.

He opened the front door as quietly as he could, hoping maybe—just maybe—his father wouldn’t notice.

“EDMUNDO!”

Eddie froze. Well, it had been worth a shot.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the living room, where his father sat on his usual chair, a beer bottle in hand. His mother was nowhere to be seen, probably already hiding away in her room. His sisters were asleep. It was just them now.

“Hola, Papi,” Eddie said cautiously.

“¿Dónde estabas?” Where were you?

“With Liam.”

His father exhaled sharply through his nose, setting the bottle down with a loud clink. “Your mother tells me you’ve been spending a lot of time with that boy.”

Eddie tensed. “I’ve always spent a lot of time with Liam. He’s my best friend.”

“Don’t talk back to me,” his father snapped, his voice edged with something dangerous. “And don’t call him your best friend. You know who has best friends?”

Eddie stayed silent, staring at the floor. He knew where this was going.

“Fags have best friends.”

Eddie’s stomach twisted, his throat tightening. He clenched his fists, willing himself not to react, not to say anything that would make it worse.

“Are you a fag, Edmundo?”

Eddie shook his head quickly. “No, Papi.”

His father leaned forward, his dark eyes drilling into him. “Say it properly.”

“I’m not,” Eddie said quietly, forcing the words out. He wasn’t even sure what he was anymore, but he knew better than to argue. He had seen his father angry before—he knew how far it could go.

“You’re sixteen soon,” his father continued. “Almost a man. And you still don’t have a girlfriend? You should be bringing girls home, not running around with that little pretty-boy gringo all the time.”

Eddie swallowed hard. “I just… I just don’t like anyone like that, Papi.”

His father scoffed. “Bullshit. Every boy your age is thinking about girls. But you? No, you’d rather play house with Liam.”

Eddie’s breath hitched. “What—what do you mean?”

Ramon stood up, and even though he didn’t raise his hand, Eddie flinched. He hated that he did that—hated that his body instinctively prepared for the worst. His father noticed and let out a bitter laugh.

“You’re pathetic,” he muttered. “A disgrace.”

Eddie bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood.

“I want you to spend more time at home. With your mother. With your sisters. When I’m not here, you’re the man of the house. You hear me?”

Eddie nodded stiffly.

“Use your words, boy.”

“Yes, Papi.”

His father gave a sharp nod, picking up his beer again. “Go to your room. And do something useful for once. Stop embarrassing me.”

Eddie turned on his heel and left, his chest burning. He didn’t let the tears fall until he was safely behind his bedroom door.

Eddie wanted nothing more than to slam the door shut, to make it loud enough that the whole house shook, to scream out all the rage and frustration that had been building inside him for years. But he didn’t. He never did. Instead, he just stood there, staring at his own reflection in the dim light of his bedroom.

This was how it always went. His father came home, reeking of alcohol and disappointment, searched for a new reason why Eddie was a disgrace, and then demanded that he be better. Be stronger. Be a man. Be someone else entirely. Eddie hated it. He hated the way his father spoke to him, hated the way his words cut deeper than anything physical ever could.

And no—Eddie wasn’t gay. He didn’t like guys. He liked girls. At least, he thought he did. But it wasn’t even about that. It was about the way his father spoke about it, like loving someone the wrong way could make a person worthless. Like who someone cared about defined whether they deserved respect. Eddie didn’t know anyone who was openly gay, and he had never had anyone teach him to think differently, but something in him recoiled every time his father spat those words like they were curses. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.

He felt sick. The kind of sickness that wasn’t in his stomach but in his bones, in his chest, in his head. It weighed him down, made it hard to breathe, hard to think. He gripped the edge of his desk, his knuckles going white. His eyes flickered back to the mirror, and suddenly, he wasn’t sixteen anymore. He was ten. A little boy staring at his own reflection, trying to see what his father wanted him to see. Trying to see the man he was supposed to become.

His hands trembled. He reached into his drawer, fingers grazing against cool metal. A lighter. He didn’t even know why he had it. It wasn’t like he smoked. Maybe he had taken it from Liam as a joke once, or maybe it had just found its way into his things. But now, it was tehre, like it always was when Eddie needed it, a damn loyal little thing. His thumb flicked over the wheel, and a small flame sparked to life. He watched it dance, flicker, curl into itself like it was breathing.

Without thinking, he pressed it to the inside of his wrist. Just for a second. Just long enough to feel the heat, to let it sting, to let it distract him from everything else. The pain was sharp, sudden, real. It grounded him in a way nothing else did. His breath hitched, but he didn’t pull away. Not immediately. He let it linger, let the heat build, let the pain spread until his body forced him to drop the lighter onto the desk. His wrist throbbed, the skin reddening, the burn beginning to take shape.

Eddie stared at it. He should be ashamed. He should be scared. But all he felt was... relief. A sick kind of relief that made his stomach twist.

He wiped at his eyes quickly, as if erasing the evidence of whatever had just happened. He couldn’t let anyone see. Especially not Liam. Liam, who always looked at him like he was something good, something worth caring about. Liam, who didn’t know what it felt like to be told you were a failure before you even had the chance to try. Liam, who didn’t know what it was like to live in a house where love felt like a test you could never pass.

Eddie swallowed hard. He pulled his sleeve down over the burn, hiding it from sight. Tomorrow, he’d pretend it never happened. He’d walk into school with a smile, he’d joke around with Liam, he’d act like everything was fine. Because that’s what he always did. That’s what he had to do.

But for now, in the quiet of his room, he let himself feel it. The pain. The anger. The exhaustion. He let himself be weak—just for a moment—before he forced himself to be strong again.

A soft knock on the door broke the heavy silence of Eddie’s room. It was hesitant, almost like the person on the other side wasn’t sure they should be there at all.

“Come in,” Eddie said, quickly pulling the blanket over himself, as if it could shield him from everything—his thoughts, the burning sting on his wrist, and the weight of the night.

The door creaked open just a little, and then, through the dim light, he saw a small figure slip inside. Sophia.

She wasn’t supposed to be awake. It was late, and their father had been home tonight, which meant their mother had made sure everyone was in bed at a reasonable hour. But here she was, grinning in that mischievous way only a nine-year-old could, her curly brown hair still messy from sleep.

“Soph, you should be in bed,” Eddie pointed out, though his voice carried no real reprimand. Instead, he patted the empty space beside him on the bed.

Sophia took it as an invitation and scrambled up next to him, her excitement barely contained. “I have to tell you something, Eddie.”

He raised an eyebrow, forcing a smirk despite the hollow feeling in his chest. “Oh yeah? Must be important if it couldn’t wait until morning.”

“It is!” she said with so much certainty that Eddie almost believed it. “It’s about Vince.”

Eddie rolled his eyes playfully. Vince was a boy in Sophia’s class, and she had been talking about him nonstop for weeks now. “Soph, you’re nine. You don’t need to be making wedding plans.”

Sophia gasped dramatically, placing a hand on her chest. “But if I ever do get married, it has to be Vince!”

Eddie laughed, shaking his head. “What’s so special about Vince, huh?”

Sophia’s expression turned dreamy. “He let me have the last red crayon during art class, and red is my favorite color. And today, he said my hair looks like a princess’s.”

Eddie chuckled. “Sounds like a real gentleman.”

She nodded sagely, as if she were discussing something of great importance. “I told Papi about him.”

Eddie froze. Just for a second. His stomach twisted, but he kept his face neutral. “Oh yeah?” he asked, hoping his voice sounded casual.

Sophia nodded, oblivious to his sudden tension. “He told me that when I get married, he’ll dance with me at my wedding.” She beamed at the thought, then turned to him, eyes wide with expectation. “Will you dance with me too, Eddie?”

His throat felt tight, but he forced himself to smile. “Of course, hermana.”

“Good,” she said, satisfied. Then she rested her head against his arm, content.

Eddie ran a hand through her hair, messing it up just a little, earning a giggle from her. He was about to tell her to go back to bed when her gaze landed on his wrist.

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the raw, red skin just above where his sleeve had been pulled back.

Eddie’s stomach dropped.

He’d been careless. He hadn’t thought anyone would notice.

He forced a laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, that? It’s nothing. Liam and I were lighting candles, and I burned myself.”

Sophia frowned, tilting her head. She stared at him, really stared, and for a moment, he was afraid she’d see through the lie. But then, after what felt like an eternity, she just sighed and shook her head.

“You need to be more careful, Eddie.”

And then, before he could react, she leaned down and kissed the mark on his wrist.

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat.

For a second, the burning ache in his chest—the one he could never quite explain, the one that made his father’s words cut so deep—eased, just a little.

“I will,” he promised softly, though he wasn’t sure if he meant it.

Sophia yawned, rubbing her eyes. “Okay. I’m going back to bed now.” She hopped off the bed and started toward the door. But just before she slipped out, she turned back to him, her face serious in a way that was rare for a girl her age.

“I think it’s really nice that Dad is back,” she said with a sleepy smile. “Don’t you think so, Eddie?”

Eddie’s smile was forced. “Yeah, it’s great.”

Sophia grinned, then disappeared down the hall.

Eddie sat there for a long time after she left, staring at the mark on his wrist.

It hadn’t been an accident.

He’d taken his lighter and let the flame hover over his skin, just long enough to feel something else, something real. It hadn’t been the first time. And deep down, he knew it wouldn’t be the last.

He should have known better. His mother would notice eventually, and Sophia was already asking questions. But tonight, he didn’t have the energy to care.

He leaned back against his pillows, closing his eyes.

Somewhere in the house, he could hear his father’s voice, muffled by the walls. The same voice that had told him he needed to be better, needed to be stronger, needed to be a man.

Eddie clenched his fists.

He was trying. He really was.

But some nights, it just didn’t feel like enough.

___

Losing a soccer game wasn’t exactly unusual for their team, but taking a 3-0 defeat against the last-place team in the league? That was humiliating. Frustration hung thick in the air as the team dragged their feet off the field, muttering complaints and analyzing what went wrong.

Bill had offered to take the boys out for dinner—his way of softening the blow—but Liam had declined without hesitation. And, as always, Eddie followed him like a loyal puppy. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go eat with the team, but if Liam wasn’t going, then neither was he.

They drove through the streets in comfortable silence, the car filled with the sound of old cassette tapes crackling through the speakers. Bon Jovi’s "Livin’ on a Prayer" played, a song they both knew by heart. Usually, they would sing along, loudly and off-key, laughing at each other’s terrible impressions. But tonight, Liam wasn’t singing. He gripped the wheel tightly, his eyes locked on the road like he had a destination in mind.

Eddie noticed. “Where are we going?”

Liam didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached over and turned the volume down just enough to hear himself speak. “Anniee invited us to her party,” he said, his tone casual but firm. “Figured it’s about time I introduced you to society.”

Eddie stiffened. Anniee’s parties had a reputation—they were wild, filled with booze and people who got into trouble. He’d never been invited to one before. He doubted Anniee even knew his name. But Liam wanted to go, and if Liam wanted to go, Eddie wasn’t about to leave him alone.

“Okay,” Eddie said, though his voice lacked enthusiasm.

Liam didn’t seem to notice.

They pulled up to Anniee’s house, where music was already thumping so loudly that Eddie could feel the bass vibrating through the car seats. The driveway and front yard were packed with cars, and clusters of people stood outside, laughing and talking. A few girls glanced at Liam as he stepped out of the car, their gazes lingering in a way that made Eddie feel even more like a shadow in Liam’s presence.

Inside, the party was in full swing. The air smelled like sweat, beer, and cheap perfume. People crowded into the living room, shouting over the music, their faces glowing under dim, flickering lights. Eddie felt completely out of place.

But Liam? Liam looked like he belonged. He moved through the party with effortless ease, nodding at people, exchanging a few words here and there. Eddie trailed behind him, feeling awkward, like a little brother tagging along to a high school party he wasn’t supposed to be at.

Eddie lost sight of Liam for a moment, swallowed up by the crowd. His chest tightened. Maybe he should just leave—

Then, suddenly, Liam was in front of him again, grinning, holding out two bottles of beer.

“Here,” Liam said, pressing one into Eddie’s hand.

Eddie hesitated. He knew better than to drink. His dad would kill him if he found out. But Liam was looking at him expectantly, and the last thing Eddie wanted to do was seem like a kid in front of him.

So he took a sip. It was bitter, the carbonation burning the back of his throat, but it wasn’t as awful as he expected. Liam laughed at his expression.

“You’ll get used to it.”

They made their way to the back of the house, where a bonfire crackled, illuminating a group of people sprawled on lawn chairs, laughing too loudly at something that probably wasn’t that funny. Eddie sat on the grass, sipping slowly, trying to pace himself. Liam, on the other hand, drank quickly, finishing his first bottle before Eddie was even halfway done.

One beer turned into two. Two turned into three. Eddie wasn’t sure when he started feeling the buzz, but suddenly, everything felt a little lighter. The warmth of the alcohol spread through his limbs, loosening the tension in his chest. He laughed at something Liam said, though he wasn’t sure what was so funny.

At some point, someone handed them shots. Eddie knew he should say no, but Liam took one without hesitation, throwing it back with practiced ease. Eddie followed, wincing as the liquor burned down his throat.

The night blurred after that. The music, the laughter, the spinning sensation in his head—it all melted together. He felt untouchable, floating somewhere outside of himself.

Then, as he stumbled inside to find the bathroom, he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror. His face was flushed, his hair messier than usual, and his eyes—his eyes looked lost.

The moment of clarity hit him like a punch to the gut. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He wasn’t supposed to be drinking himself into oblivion just to forget about the things he couldn’t control. About his father. About the way things felt wrong even when they should feel right.

But it was too late to stop now.

So he took another drink.

The night air was cool against Eddie’s skin, but he barely noticed it. His stomach still twisted uncomfortably from all the alcohol he’d downed inside, and if Liam hadn’t taken him outside to sit on the porch, he probably would’ve thrown up all over Annie’s living room.

Instead, he sat hunched over, his elbows braced on his knees, his head spinning slightly as he tried to focus on the distant hum of crickets instead of the sick feeling in his gut. Liam sat beside him, his arm draped loosely across Eddie’s back, rubbing slow, soothing circles between his shoulder blades.

Eddie exhaled, feeling himself slowly settle. The world wasn’t tilting as much anymore.

After a while, Liam broke the silence.

“So,” he said, voice slow and a little slurred from the alcohol, “what do you think about Annie?”

Eddie blinked. His brain felt like it was lagging behind the conversation, trying to catch up.

“What?” he asked.

Liam smirked. “Annie. You know, the girl who invited us here? Do you think she’s hot?”

Eddie frowned, rubbing his face. “I dunno. She doesn’t even know my name.”

Liam laughed, his voice warm and easy. “Well, she knows mine.”

Eddie gave him a side-eye. “Yeah? So?”

“She asked me out,” Liam admitted.

“Oh,” Eddie said, and something in his chest twisted unexpectedly. He didn’t know why.

“That’s good, right?” Eddie forced himself to say.

“I guess.” Liam stretched out his legs and leaned back on his hands. “She’s hot and all, but… I dunno. What about you?”

Eddie frowned. “What about me?”

“You should find someone too,” Liam said, nudging him with his knee.

Eddie made a face. “That’s stupid. I’m fifteen, I don’t need to be in a relationship.”

Liam chuckled. “Shannon likes you.”

“Who?”

“The cute brunette from earlier.”

Eddie racked his foggy brain for any memory of a girl named Shannon but came up blank. He just shrugged.

Liam was quiet for a moment.

“You like girls, right?” he asked suddenly, his voice careful.

Eddie froze.

“What kind of question is that?” he asked, his voice coming out sharper than he intended.

Liam raised an eyebrow at him. “Relax, dude. I was just asking.”

Eddie’s heart was pounding now, and he wasn’t sure why.

“I like girls,” he said quickly. “One hundred percent.”

Liam held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Just saying, if you didn’t, it wouldn’t be a big deal.”

Eddie swallowed hard. “Why does everyone think that?”

Liam gave him a small, knowing look. “Your dad?”

Eddie’s stomach clenched.

He didn’t answer, which was answer enough.

Liam sighed and leaned back against the railing.

Liam's arm pointed to the sky and Eddie followed him with his eyes. “That's the little bear, you see.”

He didn’t see but as always he thought it was really cute that Liam could see it even though he was mad drunk.

Eddie pushed his hair back from his forehead, suddenly feeling too warm despite the cold air. He needed to change the subject.

But before he could, Liam reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“What’s this?”

Eddie’s breath caught as Liam traced a finger over the faded burn scar on his wrist. It wasn’t fresh anymore, but the skin was still raised, still there, still a reminder of something Eddie didn’t want to talk about.

“Nothing,” Eddie said quickly, yanking his hand back. “I just—burned myself. It was an accident.”

Liam didn’t look convinced. His green eyes were heavy-lidded, unfocused from the alcohol, but still sharp.

“Did you burn yourself on purpose, Eddie?” His voice was softer now, careful.

Eddie clenched his jaw.

“It was just once,” he muttered.

Liam exhaled sharply. “Jesus, Eddie.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Eddie insisted.

“I don’t care if it was once or a hundred times,” Liam said firmly. “Don’t do it again. Got it?”

Eddie swallowed, looking away.

“Got it?” Liam repeated.

Eddie nodded. “Okay.”

Liam was quiet for a long moment. Then, he said, “Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

Eddie’s head snapped up so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash.

“What?”

Liam smirked lazily. “If you had, I’d know.”

Eddie huffed. “Obviously not, then.”

Liam nodded, seemingly unsurprised. “Me neither.”

Eddie glanced at him. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Liam exhaled, looking up at the stars. “I always figured my first kiss should be special. You know, with someone I actually care about. Not just some random girl at a party during Truth or Dare.”

Eddie looked at him, feeling something unsteady shift in his chest.

Liam turned his head, meeting Eddie’s eyes. They were closer than Eddie realized, their knees almost touching, their faces just inches apart.

The air between them suddenly felt thick.

Eddie could smell the alcohol on Liam’s breath, could see the way his green eyes flickered down to Eddie’s lips, then back up.

Then, slowly—so, so slowly—Liam leaned in.

Eddie didn’t move.

Their lips met, warm and soft and barely there, but it sent something electric through Eddie’s whole body. His heart was pounding so hard he was sure Liam could hear it.

Then, just as slowly, Liam pulled back.

Eddie stared at him. His brain felt like it had short-circuited.

And then, like a switch flipping, panic slammed into him.

He shot up from the steps so fast he nearly tripped.

“Sorry,” he muttered, and then he turned and ran.

He didn’t look back.

Annie’s house was only a mile from his own.

And Eddie ran the whole way home.

__

Eddie hadn’t really thought this through.

By the time he made it home, he was still far from sober. His head was pounding, his limbs felt unsteady, and his stomach churned uneasily with every step. He was lucky—his parents didn’t seem to be home. No cars in the driveway, no lights on in their bedroom. Maybe his dad had gone back out, or maybe he wasn’t back yet. Maybe his mom was with him.

Good.

He didn’t want to see them.

But Adriana was home.

The moment Eddie stumbled through the front door, she was there, standing in the hallway, her arms crossed, her eyes sharp as they locked onto him.

“Eddie?”

Her voice was cautious, hesitant, like she already knew something was wrong.

Eddie blinked at her, confused for a second—until he realized there were hot tears running down his face.

Shit.

He quickly wiped at them, but it was too late. Adriana had already seen.

Her expression softened. “Are you okay?”

Eddie forced a laugh, but it came out all wrong—too sharp, too bitter, too broken. “I’m great,” he slurred.

Adriana’s eyes narrowed. “Are you drunk?”

“That’s none of your business,” he snapped.

It was too harsh. Too mean.

He never talked to his sisters like that.

Adriana flinched, but she didn’t back down. “Eddie,” she said, her voice quieter now, careful. “Did something happen? Did someone say something to you?”

Eddie ignored her, brushing past her toward the stairs.

“Was it Dad?”

His steps faltered.

She followed him. “Someone at school? Did something happen at the game? Is it because of Liam?”

That stopped him cold.

He turned, his vision swimming slightly, his head a mess of spinning thoughts and too many emotions tangled together.

“What did you just say?” His voice was sharp, his eyes dark.

Adriana swallowed. “Eddie, I didn’t mean—”

“I told you it’s none of your damn business, so keep your nose out of it.”

The look on her face almost made him regret saying it. Almost.

The next thing he knew, he was on his knees in the bathroom, throwing up into the toilet. His stomach clenched violently, emptying everything out, leaving him weak and shaking.

And Adriana—stupid, stubborn Adriana—was right there with him, rubbing slow circles on his back like she’d done when they were little kids and he had the flu.

“Eddie,” she murmured. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

No.

No, he wasn’t.

Liam had kissed him. And worse—so much worse—he had liked it.

He wanted it to happen again.

God, he was so fucking disgusting.

He was useless. He was fag.

And he wanted to tell Adriana that, wanted to tell her that her brother was a stupid, worthless faggot who couldn’t even get his own thoughts straight.

But if he told her that, he’d have to tell her everything.

And he couldn’t.

“Go away, Bug,” he muttered, voice rough and hoarse. “I’m fine.”

Adriana wasn’t leaving.

Eddie hated that about her—the way she always stuck around, even when he didn’t want her to. Even when he was being an asshole.

“Do you want me to call Liam?” she asked again, her voice hesitant, careful. “Maybe he can—”

Eddie’s head snapped up. His entire body burned with frustration, with something ugly and overwhelming that he couldn’t name.

“I said NO!” he yelled, and his voice was raw, too loud in the small bathroom.

Adriana flinched but held her ground. “Eddie, what is going on?”

“Nothing is going on!” His hands clenched into fists, fingernails digging into his palms. “Just leave me the hell alone!”

Adriana shook her head, determination flashing in her eyes. “You’re drunk, you’re crying, and you came home looking like someone just ripped your heart out. Don’t tell me nothing is wrong!”

Eddie laughed bitterly, wiping at his face with the sleeve of his hoodie. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then help me understand!” she snapped.

“I CAN’T!”

His breath was uneven, his heart hammering against his ribs.

Adriana stared at him, waiting, expecting something from him.

And that pissed him off more than anything.

He was done with this conversation.

Eddie pushed himself up, gripping the edge of the sink to keep from falling over. His legs felt unsteady, his body exhausted. Without another word, he stormed out of the bathroom, nearly tripping over his own feet.

Adriana followed him down the hall. “You’re shutting me out again,” she accused. “You always do this, Eddie. You act like you don’t need anyone, but I know that’s bullshit. You think I don’t see how much time you spend at Liam’s house? How much you hate being here?”

Eddie whipped around so fast that Adriana almost crashed into him.

“Of course I hate being here!” he snapped, his voice sharp like a blade. “Wouldn’t you? Living in this house with him?”

Adriana’s face twisted with something—hurt, maybe, or guilt. “I know Dad can be—”

“Oh, shut up, Adriana,” Eddie scoffed. “You don’t know shit.”

Adriana blinked. “Excuse me?”

Eddie’s breathing was heavy, his whole body tense, shaking.

“You don’t have to deal with him the way I do,” he continued, his voice dripping with resentment. “You’re his perfect little daughter, his princess. You don’t get called a failure every time you walk into a room. You don’t have to sit there and listen to him tell you what a disappointment you are. You don’t have to prove yourself to a man who’s already decided you’re worthless.”

Adriana’s face paled, but Eddie wasn’t done.

“You know what? Maybe he’s right,” he said, his voice dropping to something quieter, something almost broken. “Maybe I am a fucking disappointment.”

Adriana took a step forward. “Eddie, don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s the truth.” His lips curled into a bitter smile. “I mean, let’s be real—what am I, huh? I’m not good enough for Dad. I’m not smart enough for Mom. I’m not—” His breath hitched. “I’m not normal enough.”

Adriana frowned. “What do you mean, normal enough?”

Eddie froze.

Shit.

He’d said too much.

“I don’t—” He took a shaky breath, panic rising in his throat. “I don’t mean anything, okay? Just—just leave it.”

Adriana didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push.

Instead, she reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “Eddie, whatever’s going on, you can tell me. You should tell me.”

But Eddie yanked his arm away like her touch burned.

“God, why can’t you just stop?” he snapped. “You’re so fucking annoying, Adriana. You always stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. Just mind your own damn business for once in your life!”

The second the words left his mouth, he regretted them.

Adriana took a small step back, her expression tightening.

“Fine,” she said, her voice quiet. “If that’s what you want.”

And then she turned and walked away.

Eddie stood there, frozen, his chest heaving.

Fuck.

He shouldn’t have said that.

But it was too late now.

He stormed into his room, slamming the door behind him. The silence was suffocating. He kicked off his shoes, ripped off his hoodie, and threw himself onto his bed.

His hands were shaking. His heart was pounding. His head felt too heavy for his body.

Liam had kissed him.

Liam had kissed him, and it had felt good, and Eddie had wanted more.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the thoughts away, but they only grew louder.

You’re disgusting.

You’re worthless.

You’re nothing.

Eddie rolled onto his side, curling into himself.

His fingers itched. His wrist ached with the memory of the lighter, of the burn, of the pain that made everything else go quiet.

For a brief moment, he thought about reaching for it again.

But he was too exhausted.

So instead, he let himself fall into the only escape he had left.

Sleep.

__

Eddie’s head pounded like a drum, each beat of pain hammering into his skull with relentless force. His limbs were heavy, like he was made of lead, and every movement felt like wading through thick mud. His stomach churned, his mouth was dry, and his entire body ached with exhaustion.

He sat at the breakfast table, eyes downcast, barely able to keep his head up. The smell of coffee and eggs turned his stomach, but he forced himself to sit there, to act like everything was fine.

His parents barely spared him a glance. His father was too absorbed in the morning news, his mother too preoccupied with getting Sophia ready to care. If they noticed anything off about him, they didn’t say a word. That was good. That was normal.

Adriana, though—she noticed.

She sat across from him, silent, barely touching her food. Normally, she would have cracked a joke, teased him about how miserable he looked. But she didn’t. She didn’t even look at him.

The weight of her silence crushed him.

Eddie wanted to say something—to apologize for last night, for the cruel words, for pushing her away when all she wanted to do was help.

But his throat was dry, and his pride was a thick, ugly thing that wouldn’t let the words leave his mouth.

So he said nothing.

And Adriana pretended he didn’t exist.

Sophia, the ever-observant little sister, darted glances between them, her brows furrowing. She wasn’t stupid. She knew something was wrong.

But Eddie also knew where her loyalties lay.

Sophia loved him—Eddie had no doubt about that—but she worshiped Adriana. If she had to pick sides, he didn’t stand a chance.

The silence stretched between them, tense and suffocating.

Eddie pushed his food around his plate, his stomach twisting.

He couldn’t stay here.

Usually, Liam picked him up for school, blasting old Bon Jovi songs from his beat-up car, teasing Eddie about his terrible mood in the mornings.

But today, Eddie didn’t wait for him.

He just grabbed his backpack and slid into the passenger seat of his mom’s car when she offered to drive Adriana.

Helen glanced at him but, to her credit, didn’t ask any questions.

He was grateful for that.

By the time he saw Liam, it was fourth period—math, their mutual least-favorite class.

Eddie was already seated when Liam walked in.

Their eyes met.

For the briefest moment, something flickered in Liam’s expression—something sad, something unreadable.

Then, without a word, Liam dropped his gaze and moved to the other side of the room.

Eddie’s stomach clenched.

Liam always sat next to him. Always.

But now?

Now Liam sat in the front row, as far away from Eddie as he could possibly get.

Eddie swallowed, his throat tight, his pulse pounding in his ears.

It shouldn’t have hurt this much.

But it did.

It felt like a punch to the gut, like Liam had reached inside his chest and ripped something vital out.

And Eddie hated that.

He hated how much power Liam had over him, how much it hurt that he was avoiding him.

What had he expected?

That Liam would pretend nothing happened? That they could go back to how things were?

Eddie clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.

I should have pulled away.

He should have shoved Liam off, laughed it off, done anything but kiss him back.

He should have been normal.

He should have been better.

But he wasn’t.

And now Liam wanted nothing to do with him.

The entire class, Eddie couldn’t focus. The numbers blurred together, the teacher’s voice became white noise.

All he could think about was Liam.

And how much he wanted to crawl out of his own skin.

By the time lunch rolled around, Eddie’s chest was tight, his breathing shallow.

The cafeteria was too loud, too bright, too much.

Liam sat with their usual group, laughing at something, acting like nothing was wrong.

Acting like Eddie wasn’t even there.

Eddie couldn’t take it.

He turned on his heel and walked out, pushing through the doors and into the empty hallway.

His hands were shaking.

He needed—he needed something.

A distraction. A release. Anything.

Before he even realized what he was doing, he found himself in the bathroom, locking himself in a stall.

His breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps.

His fingers trembled as he reached into his backpack, digging past his books, past his notebooks, until he found it—his lighter.

The small, metal thing was warm from being in his pocket.

He flicked it open, the flame bursting to life.

He watched it dance, watched the way it licked at the air, so small, so insignificant.

And then, without hesitating, he pressed it to his skin.

The pain was sharp, searing, spreading across his wrist like wildfire.

He sucked in a breath, biting down on his lip to keep from making a sound.

But it wasn’t enough.

The pain wasn’t enough.

He did it again.

And again.

And again.

His vision blurred, his head spinning.

But at least this—this was real.

This, he could control.

This, he deserved.

He was disgusting.

A failure.

A mistake.

Liam wanted nothing to do with him.

His father would never accept him.

Adriana was done with him.

And what was the point of it all, really?

Why keep going when everything inside him felt like it was rotting?

The thought hit him hard and fast.

What if I just didn’t wake up tomorrow?

What if he could make it stop?

What if—

A sudden knock on the stall door made him jolt.

“Eddie?”

His heart stopped.

It was Liam.

Eddie’s fingers trembled around the lighter.

“Go away,” he rasped, his voice hoarse.

Liam didn’t listen. “Eddie, open the door.”

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut.

He couldn’t do this.

He couldn’t face him.

“Just go away, Liam,” he said, louder this time.

A pause.

Then, softly—

“Please.”

Liam’s voice wasn’t angry. It wasn’t cold.

It was worried.

That made it worse.

Eddie didn’t deserve his worry.

Didn’t deserve anything.

He pressed his forehead against the stall door, his entire body shaking.

He didn’t open it.

And eventually, Liam left.

Eddie stayed in that stall until the bell rang, until his wrist ached and his heart felt like it was caving in.

Eddie didn’t expect to see him there.

He thought Liam had left. Thought he’d stormed out after math class, maybe driven around like he always did when he was pissed off. But no. He was still there, leaning against the bathroom wall, arms crossed, jaw tight, like he’d been waiting for him.

Eddie hesitated for half a second. Then he turned toward the sink, pretending he hadn’t noticed.

“Eddie.”

Liam’s voice was sharp.

Eddie ignored him, twisting the faucet on, splashing cold water onto his face. His hands were still trembling from earlier. His ribs still ached from where he’d dug his fingers in too hard, trying to hold himself together.

Liam wasn’t having it.

“You did it again, didn’t you?”

Eddie stiffened.

He barely had time to react before Liam grabbed his wrist.

“Let go,” Eddie snapped, trying to jerk away.

Liam yanked his sleeve up.

And there it was.

The burn. Raw, angry, skin ruined. The newest addition to a collection of scars Liam wasn’t supposed to see.

Liam went still.

Then his grip tightened. “Jesus Christ, Eddie.”

Eddie ripped his arm away. “It’s none of your business.”

Liam laughed, but it wasn’t amused. “None of my business? Are you fucking serious right now?” His voice was rising, sharp and furious. “You promised me.”

Eddie scoffed. “Oh, right. Because that’s how it works, huh? I say ‘I won’t do it again,’ and boom, I’m magically fine? Newsflash, Liam—nothing fixes this.”

Liam stepped closer, eyes blazing. “So what, you’re just gonna keep doing this to yourself?”

“Maybe.”

Liam flinched.

Eddie knew he should stop. But he couldn’t. He wanted to hurt him.

Because Liam was standing there, looking at him like that—like he cared—and Eddie hated it.

He hated him.

And he hated himself even more.

So he laughed, bitter and empty. “You know what’s funny?” He tilted his head, stepping into Liam’s space, reckless and shaking. “You keep acting like you actually give a shit. But guess what? You don’t. You never have.”

Liam’s fists clenched.

Eddie pushed harder. “Is that why you kissed me?” His voice cracked. “Was it out of pity?”

Liam’s expression darkened. “You think I fucking pity you?”

Eddie shrugged, hating how his chest ached. “I don’t think, Liam. I know.”

Liam scoffed. “Jesus, you really are fucking clueless, huh?”

Eddie’s hands curled into fists. “Oh, I’m clueless? At least I know what I want.” He sneered. “Can you say the same?”

Liam’s jaw clenched. “It was a mistake, Eddie.”

Something inside Eddie cracked.

A mistake.

Of course.

“Right,” Eddie whispered, voice hollow. “A fucking mistake.”

Liam exhaled harshly, dragging a hand through his hair. “I—I didn’t mean—”

“No, I get it.” Eddie nodded, his throat burning. “You didn’t mean to kiss me. Because it wasn’t normal, right?” He laughed, voice shaking. “Don’t worry, Liam. I’ll make sure it never happens again.”

Liam stiffened.

And Eddie knew, in that moment, that he wasn’t the only one struggling with it.

With what it meant.

With what it made them.

With what their fathers would think if they found out.

Liam swallowed hard. Then he shook his head. “I don’t—I don’t know what the fuck that was, okay? But I do know that I’m not—”

He stopped himself.

Didn’t say it.

Didn’t have to.

Eddie heard it anyway.

I’m not like you.

The words weren’t spoken, but they crashed into Eddie all the same, knocking the air from his lungs, making him feel sick.

Liam must’ve seen something in his face, because his expression flickered.

Eddie didn’t let him take it back.

Instead, he shoved him. Hard.

Liam stumbled back, eyes widening. “What the fuck?”

“You know what?” Eddie’s voice was shaking. “Fuck you, Liam.”

Liam’s eyes flashed. “Oh, fuck me? No, Eddie, fuck you.” He stepped closer, shoving Eddie back. “You act like you’re the only one who’s fucking struggling, like you’re the only one who has problems—”

“Oh, I’m sorry, is me wanting to fucking die inconvenient for you?” Eddie snapped, shoving him again.

Liam grabbed his hoodie, yanking him forward. “You think you’re the only one who’s fucked up?” His voice was venomous. “You think you’re the only one who fucking hates himself?”

Eddie let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah? Well, at least you have a reason to.”

That was it.

That was the moment Liam snapped.

His fist connected with Eddie’s jaw, sharp and brutal. Eddie stumbled back, tasting blood.

For a second, everything was silent.

Then Eddie swung back.

His knuckles hit Liam’s cheek, and then they were on each other—punching, shoving, slamming into the walls like wild fucking animals.

It wasn’t a fight.

It was destruction.

Eddie wasn’t even trying to hurt Liam.

He just wanted to feel something else.

Liam tackled him to the ground, fists swinging, both of them too fucking angry to care.

And then, all at once, Liam stopped.

Eddie didn’t.

His fists hit Liam’s shoulders, useless and desperate.

Liam just let him.

Then he grabbed Eddie’s wrists.

“Eddie, stop.”

His voice was quiet now.

Almost pleading.

Eddie’s breath hitched. His whole body was shaking.

Liam was still holding onto him.

Still looking at him.

But this time, there was no anger.

Just fear.

Eddie yanked himself away.

He stumbled to his feet, chest heaving, and wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.

Then he turned and walked out.

Liam didn’t stop him.

Eddie wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse.

__

The bus ride home was silent.

Eddie sat in the very back, his forehead pressed against the cold window, eyes unfocused as the world blurred past. His face hurt. His hands hurt. His entire body ached, but none of it compared to the weight pressing down on his chest. It sat there like a cinder block, heavy and suffocating, making it impossible to breathe right.

Adriana was sitting a few rows ahead, quiet, staring out the window. She hadn’t said a word to him since they got on.

Maybe she didn’t know what happened.

Maybe she did and just didn’t care anymore.

And honestly? He wouldn’t blame her.

The bus came to a slow, jerking stop on their street.

Eddie didn’t wait for Adriana—just shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped off, feet hitting the pavement harder than necessary. He started toward the house, his head pounding with every step. His stomach twisted, hollow and aching. He hadn’t eaten all day, but the thought of food made him sick.

He fumbled with the lock before pushing the door open, stepping inside. The house was eerily quiet.

His parents weren’t home. Neither was Sophia. Just him and Adriana.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Eddie exhaled.

And then he looked down at his hands.

His knuckles were raw, swollen, the skin scraped and bruised. He flexed his fingers, wincing at the sting. He hadn’t even hit Liam that hard. Liam had gotten the worst of it—Eddie was sure of that. He’d landed more punches, taken more swings, left more damage.

Not that it mattered.

Because none of it changed the fact that Liam had called it a mistake.

None of it changed the fact that Eddie had spent years knowing he wasn’t normal, hiding it, hating it—and the one person he thought might understand had looked him in the eye and proven him right.

It was a mistake.

A stupid, drunken, meaningless mistake.

And Eddie had let it happen.

"Eddie."

He flinched at the sound of Adriana’s voice.

When he turned, she was standing there, watching him, a plastic bag in her hand.

He blinked at her.

Then at the bag.

She didn’t say anything. Just lifted it, stepping forward, pressing it gently against his cheek.

The cold stung.

Eddie jerked away, wincing. "Ow—fuck, Bug, what the hell?"

"Hold it there," she said, ignoring his flinch, guiding his hand up so he could take it himself. "You’re gonna look like a raccoon tomorrow."

Eddie sighed and took the bag.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

And then Adriana surprised the hell out of him by stepping forward and pulling him into a hug.

Eddie froze.

For a second, he didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

And then—

His throat closed up.

His shoulders sagged.

And before he could stop himself, he let out a sharp, broken breath and just—collapsed into her.

Adriana held on tighter.

"Shh," she whispered, one hand on the back of his head, the other gripping his shirt. "It’s okay, Eddie. It’s okay."

No.

It wasn’t.

Nothing was okay.

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his face into her shoulder. His hands clutched at the fabric of her sweater like she was the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.

"You don’t have to tell me what happened," she murmured. "But you can if you want to."

Eddie shook his head.

Because he couldn’t.

He couldn’t say it out loud. Couldn’t make it real.

Adriana sighed, resting her chin against his head. "You fought with Liam, didn’t you?"

Eddie stiffened.

She pulled back just enough to look at him. Her eyes were dark, unreadable. "You had a black eye last year when you got into that fight with Paul Martinez. You didn’t cry then."

Eddie swallowed. "Shut up, Bug."

She frowned. "I’m just saying, whatever happened with Liam—it wasn’t just a fight, was it?"

Eddie pulled away.

Took a step back.

The air between them turned tense, sharp.

Adriana studied him, something sad in her expression. "Did he—" She hesitated. "Did he say anything to you?"

Eddie let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah. He said a lot of things."

She waited.

Eddie turned away, raking a hand through his hair. "He—" His throat tightened. "He kissed me, okay?"

Silence.

Eddie could hear the clock ticking in the kitchen. The faint hum of the fridge. The distant sound of a car driving by outside.

Then:

"...Oh."

Eddie’s jaw clenched. "Yeah. Oh."

Adriana was quiet for a long time.

Then she took a slow step forward. "Is that why you fought?"

Eddie swallowed.

Shook his head.

And then, hoarsely: "He said it was a mistake."

Adriana inhaled sharply.

Eddie let out a breathless, humorless chuckle. "Can you believe that?" He looked at her, eyes burning. "He kissed me, and then he looked me in the eye and said it was a fucking mistake—"

His voice cracked.

He stopped.

Pressed his lips together, fists shaking at his sides.

Adriana was staring at him, wide-eyed, lips parted like she wanted to say something but didn’t know what.

Eddie exhaled shakily.

And then, in a voice so quiet he barely heard it himself:

"Maybe he’s right."

Adriana’s expression shattered.

"No." She grabbed his wrist. "No, Eddie, don’t—"

Eddie ripped his hand away.

"Don’t what?" His voice rose, raw and unsteady. "Don’t think? Don’t feel? Don’t be—"

He broke off, chest rising and falling too fast.

Adriana looked like she wanted to cry.

Eddie let out a shuddering breath.

Then another.

And then his knees gave out.

He sank to the floor, hands gripping his hair, shoulders shaking. "I don’t know what’s wrong with me," he whispered, voice wrecked.

Adriana dropped down in front of him, grabbing his hands, prying them away from his head. "Nothing is wrong with you."

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut.

His throat ached. His ribs ached. His heart ached.

Adriana squeezed his hands.

"You’re my brother," she said, voice shaking. "And I love you. No matter what."

Eddie let out a sharp, gasping sob.

And then, before he could stop himself—

He fell forward.

Adriana caught him.

Held him.

And Eddie swore himself, that that would never ever happened again.