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Something bumps against Eddie’s foot and he kicks it away on instinct.
“Hey! I’m rolling here,” a voice chides.
A suspiciously familiar voice.
“Buck?” Eddie looks around but he doesn’t see his six-foot-two-inches of best friend. He snorts at his own stupidity. Of course Eddie doesn’t see Buck; Buck’s back in LA.
But then …
“Down here,” Buck says, then whistles. It’s on the whistle Eddie that hears the distortion, like it’s coming through a speaker.
Eddie looks down at his feet and sees a tiny white robot with pixelated heart eyes.
“Eddie! I’m inside the robot.”
“What the fuck,” Eddie murmurs under his breath. He knew Buck was going stir crazy that Bobby had sidelined him for two weeks after tweaking his bad leg during a rescue but Eddie hadn’t realized it had become this dire.
Buck ignores the curse, or maybe he doesn’t hear it, too busy making the eyes on his robot change colors. “I bought this guy online a few days ago and had it shipped to you. Chris brought it in yesterday while you were Ubering but I guess it took all night to charge. I only just got the notice it finished after Chris went to school.” Buck makes the robot back up a few inches and give a tight spin. “Ta da!”
Eddie stares down at the robot for a few seconds, still vaguely asleep and very confused. He shuffles over to Chris’s room, which … Eddie had wondered why Chris left it cracked this morning after getting himself up and out to the bus.
Now the door’s wide open and Eddie can see a charger port plugged into the wall.
Okay. So he’s not going crazy. The robot is real life, with Buck inside.
Eddie turns around and Buck’s right on his heels, making jerky motions like he’s still getting used to the controls.
“Hold on.” Buck spins and then backs up. The robot face pans upward. “Ah. There you are! Apparently you have to press down to look up. Dumb. Say something, Eddie.”
Eddie rubs one hand down his face. “Buck, please tell me you didn’t spend more than fifty bucks on this thing.”
“Uh …”
“This is why your credit score is 490, you know.”
“Hey,” the robot’s eyes change from hearts to pinpricks with down-angled slashes above them; Buck’s pixelated angry eyes, “I thought I told you not to look that up.”
“Kind of a requirement for the sublease paperwork, bud.” Eddie squats down to get a closer look at the robot. He pokes it and the eyes turn back to hearts. Why is that endearing? The things humans empathize with are so weird. “Wanna tell me what possessed you to buy this thing?”
“Dunno. Thought it would be fun. Give me something to do while I’m resting.” Buck makes the robot bump into Eddie’s hand a few times. Eddie can’t resist giving it a gentle pat on its head.
The robot makes this weird vrrrr sound.
“Are you purring?”
“No, I think one of the gears is stuck on—ah,” the robot jerks forward and Eddie stops it from running between his legs with the heel of his palm, “there we go. What got me?”
Eddie turns the robot over and picks out a twist tie that apparently got stuck in one of the wheels.
“Geez. Buy a robot dinner first.”
“Hah, hah,” Eddie says, flipping the robot back on its wheels. He holds up the twist tie so Buck’s camera can spot it. “I’d say it’s a boy, but then I’d feel bad about ripping this out.”
“Don't make it weird, Eddie.”
“You started it.” Eddie slaps his knees and then stands with a groan, his knees cracking with the movement. “Okay. I’m going to get a cup of coffee because I’m way too under-caffeinated for this mess.” He steps over the robot and makes it a few strides toward the kitchen before looking back at where Buck hasn’t moved an inch. “Buck? You coming?”
The robot vrrrs happily after him.
“I see you found Buck-bot,” Chris says when he gets home from school.
Eddie looks up from the stir fry he’s been making. Buck’s on the counter next to him, giving feedback. “We are not calling him that.”
“Aw, come on, Eddie.” Buck makes the robot nudge over a salt shaker; Eddie has to catch it before the slightly uncoordinated push tips it over. “That’s a good name.”
“Yeah,” Chris leans over Eddie’s shoulder and steals a bell pepper from the pan to pop into his mouth, “what else are we going to call him?”
“Buck,” Eddie deadpans. “How’s the salt level?”
Chris hums and nods toward the shaker. Eddie gives it a few sprinkles, stirs, and then tries an onion. “Oh, yeah,” he says, “that’s perfect. Good call, Buck.”
Buck turns the eyes into stars.
“Cute,” Chris says. “I’m going to go study.” He snags a snap pea this time. “Call me when dinner is ready?”
“It won’t be long,” Eddie calls after Chris who’s already on his way toward his bedroom, “so don’t get too deep in the books. And if I hear one simulated gunshot, I—and he’s gone.” Eddie sighs, shaking his head.
“You’re the one who got him a PS5.”
“Don’t start with me.” Eddie moves to poke the robot but Buck has a better handle on the controls this time, dodging expertly.
And also right off the counter. “Shit,” Eddie curses, dropping the spatula into the wok and diving after Buck, who’s luckily landed on the rug Eddie keeps by his sink.
“I’m fine! I’m fine!” Buck assures him.
Eddie checks the robot over, just in case. “No dings or scratches.” Eddie thumbs over the black display, wiping off a carrot shaving Eddie must have dropped onto the floor earlier. “Good as new.”
“Thanks,” Buck says.
There’s a moment where Eddie stares into those pixelated hearts and he can almost imagine what it was like to check Buck over after one of his many near-misses on shift. What Eddie would give to fix his thumb at the join of Buck’s neck and shoulder rather than the glossy surface of a tiny robot.
In the distance, Eddie hears a gunshot.
He groans. “Chris!”
“One game!” Chris shouts back.
Eddie gives Buck a look like, can you believe this kid?
“Teenagers,” Buck says, and turns one of the eyes into a frowny face.
They argue over whether or not Buck is coming along on Eddie’s next shift.
“My rating’s already been tanked for yapping,” Eddie argues. “So why would I bring the World Champion of Yappers into my car with me?”
Eddie shoves a shirt over his head and frowns at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, leaning closer to fix his hair. How many years has he lived on this planet and he always forgets how shirt collars fuck up the gel? He gets the one strand that always likes to fall in his face back under control. There. “Buck?” he prompts after realizing Buck hasn’t answered his question.
When he looks over at Buck-bot, it’s tucked its digital face beneath the hanging hand towel next to Eddie’s sink.
“Oh my … are you pouting?” Eddie pushes the towel aside and turns the bot so it’s facing Eddie. He fixes the tape holding up the fake birthmark Chris made for it; it keeps struggling to stick on the smooth surface.
“No,” Buck pouts, clear even through the slight vocal distortion.
“You know I don’t mind the yapping.” In fact, Eddie loves it. Sure, he misses seeing Buck’s face via FaceTime but he has to admit the Buck-bot’s working much better. Hands-free Buck. No more awkwardly stretching his arm out, worrying absently about the double chin certain angles give him. Longer stretches of conversations since neither of them need to drop off to plug in their phones to finish various chores; Buck always makes sure Buck-bot charges while one of them is sleeping. And it increases the time they can talk, given that without a video component on his end Buck will now bring his phone with him into the alternating ice and hot baths he’s been taking to help his bad leg (Buck, for all his oversharing, is surprisingly modest).
But the one place Eddie has steadfastly avoided bringing Buck, besides his parents’ house, is the Prius.
His new workplace.
It’s not because he doesn’t want Buck there. Eddie, through Buck-bot, is learning all of the ways he kind of wants Buck everywhere all the time. Hell, he’s the one who brought Buck-bot into the bathroom while he showered. (Eddie laughed when Buck-bot shouted a shrill, “Eddie!” when Eddie started stripping, promptly wheeling itself into a corner and swearing not to turn around under Eddie promised he was behind the curtain.) (Eddie later found a dent in the drywall from how hard Buck-bot had slammed into it in his haste to protect his nowhere-near-virgin eyes.)
Still, even Eddie has to admit bringing Buck along to work pushes their codependency to a level he doesn’t think they should breach.
“What am I going to say when someone notices you, huh?” Eddie picks Buck-bot off the bathroom counter and sets him on the floor, opening the door so he can roll ahead of Eddie.
Eddie catches his reflection in the hallway mirror. He frowns. “Are these pants too tight?” He turns from one angle to the next.
“N-no?”
Eddie glances over at Buck-bot and sighs. “You’re not even looking.”
“I saw you earlier! I don’t need to look at you.”
Which, rude. “Are you sure? Can’t you check again for me?”
“Eddie, you’re fine. Great, even. Those jean’ll bump up your ratings for sure.”
Eddie’s cheeks heat. “Hah, hah. That’s not the point.” He tests a few squats. They’re stretchy at least. Maybe they’ll loosen with wear.
Eddie’s still getting used to his new washer and dryer. He shrunk a pair of Chris’s socks to the point where they look like doll clothes. Chris keeps leaving them around the house to mock Eddie which is … honestly, a giant relief.
Eddie straightens up after a final testing stretch. “Okay. I think they’re fine. Just needed to move around in them.”
“G-great.”
Eddie gives his reflection one last check and turns toward Buck. “About coming to work—”
“Actually, never mind,” Buck says, rolling off down the hallway, “the app’s telling me the robot’s low on charge.”
“What? Didn’t you charge it last night?”
“Must not have connected. Bye, Eddie!” Then, Buck-bot disappears into Chris’s bedroom.
Eddie stares after him for a second, confused and concerned. His phone buzzes, reminding him it’s time to work. Eddie sighs; he’ll have to worry about Buck later.
As soon as Eddie gets home, he knocks on Chris’s bedroom door. “Hey, can I come in?”
“Yeah!”
Chris is on his computer, playing Fortnite with his friends, headset on with one ear exposed like Eddie makes him, so he can hear Eddie calling. Buck’s on the desk beside Chris but immediately spins around at Eddie’s entrance.
“Eddie!” He starts wheeling toward the desk’s edge and Eddie catches him as soon as he rolls off it.
“You gotta stop doing that; you could hurt yourself.”
“Then stop catching me,” Buck teases.
Eddie holds Buck-bot up to his face, resisting his sudden, strange urge to rub his nose against the black display face. “Never.”
“Can you guys go be weird somewhere else? I’d prefer to limit my damage to the game.”
Eddie and Buck-bot exchange amused looks. Eddie places Buck on the floor so he can follow Eddie out; apparently walking while holding the bot makes Buck slightly motion sick.
“How’s your charge doing?” Eddie asks.
“Oh, uh,” Buck clips a chair leg, and says, “ow,” reflexively.
“Buck,” Eddie clicks his tongue, “what’s going on with you today?” He squats down to look Buck over. His jeans are looser from this morning but still tight enough that Eddie worries he’s giving Buck more of a show than intended, so he shifts forward into more of a kneel. “Speaking of taking damage.” Eddie thumbs over a small scratch Buck’s picked up just below where his birthmark’s been taped. “Is it your charge again?”
“N-no.”
“Well, you said it didn’t connect earlier. Maybe there’s a battery problem? Although, that wouldn’t throw off your balance …” Eddie frowns as he picks up Buck-bot and inspects all sides for other damage. “I don’t see any other dents, so it’s nothing external.”
“E-Eddie,” Buck whines.
Ah, shit. The motion. Eddie sets Buck back down on the ground. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. I, uh, I think whatever was wrong earlier reset itself with the second charge.”
“But then you ran into the chair.”
“Eddie, some things can be attributed to user error.”
“Oh.” He chuckles. “Right. It’s just,” Eddie can’t resist running a finger along Buck-bot’s smooth surface; Buck can’t really feel it, so Eddie’s allowed, “sometimes I forget the actual you is back in LA, working this little guy on a controller.”
“It’s an app on my phone,” Buck says, slightly breathless.
“Mmm. But I think you should come to work with me tomorrow.”
“Wait. Really?” Buck’s heart eyes cycle through the rainbow of colors. “But I thought you said—”
“Well, I was wrong. Besides,” Eddie smooths out the birthmark, once again trying to fall off, “I need to keep my eye on you.” He pushes the robot so it makes one of its strained vrrrs as the wheels move backward against the controls. “Make sure Buck-bot doesn’t glitch again. I wanna keep him as long as possible.”
“O-okay,” Buck agrees.
Eddie smiles.
“All strapped in?”
“Eddie, I don’t think the seatbelt is really going to help me in an accident. I’m literally smaller than your hand.”
“Are you really?” Eddie reaches over and places his palm on top of Buck-bot. Sure enough, Eddie can make his fingers touch at the base, his hands fully encompassing the robot. “Huh. I didn’t notice.”
“How?” Buck mutters, but just before Eddie’s about to ask what he means, the rear doors open with Eddie’s first ride.
“Heeyyyy, Edmundo?”
“It’s Eddie, but yeah, hop in.”
The guy, drunk by the smell of liquor radiating off him, slumps into the backseat.
Eddie really hopes he won’t have to clean vomit out of his car again. “So, partying early?” He tries to keep the judgement out of his voice (it’s not even nine) but, judging by Buck’s muffled cough, he doesn’t do a very good job. Eddie gives Buck a conspiratorial wink.
This is fun. He should have let Buck ride along sooner.
“More like I never stopped,” the passenger—Trey, if Eddie remembers correctly—slurs.
Eddie checks the GPS, looks like he’s taking Trey to a hotel. Good. The kid needs to sleep this off. “There’s a bottle of water back there, if you need it.”
“Thanks,” Trey says while Buck coughs, “Dad,” under his breath.
Eddie shakes his head and laughs. He checks in the rearview mirror to see if Trey’s caught either of their outbursts, but the man’s already slumped over, eyes closed with the water bottle nearly falling out of one hand, unopened thankfully.
“Fast asleep,” Eddie whispers for Buck’s benefit.
Buck whistles, the sound slightly warbled through the bot’s speaker. Mostly the sound quality is good, very close to Buck’s voice, but the speaker struggles with sounds other than speech. It’s a weird jolt to Eddie’s system, remembering that there’s a Buck, big and strong and relaxed back in LA, that he hasn’t actually possessed a small, sleek robot whose eyes can change shapes and colors.
“Think he’ll puke?”
“He’d better not,” Eddie says, “but, no, I don’t think it’s likely. Normally if they pass out they don’t vomit. Although, they do often forget to tip.”
“Sucks,” Buck says.
Eddie shrugs. “It’s not a long ride at least, and you’re here. That always makes things better.” He cuts his eyes to the side and wishes for a second that he could see Buck’s actual face, a birthmark that’s not curling away from white plastic, blue eyes where the hearts are less literal. He opens his mouth to say something, but he’s not sure what, and then it doesn’t matter because Trey shouts in his sleep, “DON’T honk the GEESE!” and Buck bursts into laughter.
Eddie‘s right behind him, he always is, and for a second he can almost see it, the rest of his life stretched out before him like a white line on the road. The screen shifts, morphs, rerouting, though Eddie’s not sure where. He can no longer see his end destination and he thinks none of that matters with Buck’s laughter in his ears.
They’re still laughing when they get home, Buck’s battery beeping.
“Sure you don’t wanna run a diagnostic?” Buck teases.
“Nah, I guess we did keep you working all day. Go charge. I can call if I need you.”
Buck vrrrs to Chris’s bedroom and Eddie puts some music on while he starts prepping dinner.
Two seconds later, the playlist stops due to an incoming call.
Gee, I wonder who that could be, Eddie thinks, shaking his head.
He smiles as he answers, “Hey, Buck. No, don’t worry about it,” he props the phone up on the counter, switches over to video, his smile widening at the sight of Buck’s face, his actual face, and says, “I missed you, too.”