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Driving to Maddie and Chimney’s house, windows rolled down, music blasting, trying to drown out all the noise in his head, Eddie can’t help but still feel stuck.
It’s a constant feeling nowadays. It feels like he’s a bird in a cage, trapped, but the bars aren’t real. The only thing keeping him in here is his own mind. Still, he wouldn’t be able to get himself out if he tried, because he has absolutely zero idea what’s wrong in the first place. He wakes up and feels stuck. He looks at himself in the mirror and feels stuck and wrong and disgusting, which he’s always felt in some capacity but has just gotten stronger as he’s noticed the feeling. He puts his clothes on and feels trapped in them.
Maybe he feels like this because he still isn’t dating Buck. Honest to God, Eddie never believed in soulmates before he met him. He was perfectly fine with marrying a kind, loving woman who he felt nicely about. It didn’t have to be love. Not at first. He could make it love if he tried hard enough, and he did. He tried to make it work with Shannon (his best friend), and then Ana (God, Ana was perfect), and then Marisol (which obviously ended in a fiery explosion). After Ana, Eddie knew something was wrong. He worked hard to ignore it, though. To keep those thoughts at bay, because he wasn’t going to indulge. He didn’t—still doesn’t—get to indulge.
Now that he knows he’s gay, now that he’s out, things should be a million times better. He should have a post-coming out glow. He should be excited to wake up every morning and live authentically. He should be dating Buck. Fuck, why isn’t he dating Buck yet?
Instead, every time someone refers to him as gay, he flinches. As if he didn’t spend years building up to being okay with the concept. As if he hasn’t been working through his—his internalized homophobia in therapy for months. As if he isn’t literally gay.
Maybe he’s not gay, he thinks.
That thought lasts for approximately five seconds before he remembers he doesn’t like women and he does like men. What else would he be?
Why isn’t he dating Buck?
Whatever. Buck is his friend. They don’t have to be more, no matter how well they’d work. Eddie is okay with being friends. He’s okay with letting Buck work through whatever he has to work through before he’s ready. He’s okay with waiting. He’s waited this long already.
Besides, he doesn’t have time to think about that. He’s babysitting. Maddie and Chimney are going on a date night and Buck has a raging migraine, so the duty of babysitting Jee-Yun falls on him. Jee always makes him happy. He’ll forget all about this soon.
When he pulls up to the house, he takes a deep breath before plastering a smile on his face. He will not ruin this night for Jee. He so rarely gets to babysit her, and he knows she enjoys it. He will make this fun for her if it’s the last thing he does.
“Thanks for coming, Eddie,” Maddie says, squeezing him in a hug. “Robby’s already down for the night. Just check on him periodically. I told Jee she could stay up tonight, but no later than ten, okay?”
Eddie nods. “Understood, ma’am.”
“Also, I have a princess dress sitting on my bed. It’ll probably be a little too small on you, but Jee likes accuracy, so—”
“Wait, what?” Eddie interrupts. “Princess dress?”
“Oh, honey,” she laughs. “Did you think you were getting out of playing princess? It’s Jee’s new thing.”
“I—” he starts, dumbfounded. “Well, okay then. Princess it is.”
Chim walks up, patting him on the back. “And I’m sure you’ll be the belle of the ball,” he says. “We gotta head out now. Jee is on the couch watching—” He dips down to a whisper. “She’s watching Frozen. Don’t disturb the beast. Just sit beside her and keep quiet.”
Eddie laughs, nodding. “Okay, heard.”
“Thank you again for doing this, Eddie,” Maddie says, clasping her hands together. “I’ll send you the money on Apple Pay?”
He scoffs. “You don’t have to pay me—”
“You’re babysitting. I do have to pay you,” she says firmly. “Anyway, see you later?”
He smiles softly. “Yeah. See you later.”
Eddie sits beside Jee on the couch as she watches Frozen and eats blueberries, using all his strength to keep quiet and not disturb her. She’s currently at Do You Wanna Build a Snowman?, so there’s still plenty of movie to go, and she’ll likely be occupied with this for a while. She sings along to the songs quietly, as if she still hasn’t quite got the hang of the lyrics, even though Eddie knows she’s watched this movie a million times because she’s watched it every single time he’s babysat. He concludes that she isn’t singing loud because she’s trying to split her focus between the movie and the blueberries, like she can’t decide which one she likes more.
“Hey, Jee?” Eddie tries about thirty minutes later after sitting in silence the entire time.
Jee doesn’t look his way. “Hm?”
“How many times have you seen this movie?” he asks.
“Um…” Jee wrinkles her nose in thought. “I dunno.”
“Do you watch this every day?”
She nods. Eddie whistles. “Jesus, Jee. You really like it, huh?”
Jee nods again. “Yeah. My daddy said a hundred times.”
“One hundred?!” Eddie asks incredulously. “Is that true or was he exaggerating?”
She looks at him sideways. “What’s that?”
“‘Exaggerating’? It’s when—”
She shushes him as Let it Go starts playing, and that’s the end of that.
Eddie likes this movie. He doesn’t watch children’s movies often anymore; Chris thinks he’s too old now, and Buck’s attention span doesn’t go very far with movies. Still, whenever he does, he thinks about being thirteen and watching Disney movies with his little sisters. He thinks about his mother’s snide comments when she’d catch him watching The Little Mermaid with Sophia, and how she’d always tell him to turn that off before his father sees. He thinks about telling himself that princesses are only for girls, which he later learned was bullshit, but seriously believed for a very long time. He thinks about Chris being little and never being into princesses, and how he always felt a twinge of doubt at how different his son was from him. Princesses aren’t only for girls, of course, but he never felt like the type of boy who was allowed to be into them.
Jee has never had to doubt whether she’s allowed to like something, and she never will. That’s not who her parents are, and he’s grateful for that. She may be four, but she’s freer than he can ever remember being; freer than he is even now, now that he’s unlocked this huge part of himself.
He loved Shannon. Still does love Shannon. Wishes things could’ve been different, but never wishes they weren’t together. Sometimes wishes he were someone else so he could’ve loved Shannon properly. It’s not fair to say or even think, but sometimes he thinks that if he had loved her enough, she wouldn’t have died. He wouldn’t have stolen her youth from her if he were someone different. Not just straight, but someone else entirely. Sometimes he thinks she was in the same boat, though. Like she was pretending to be someone she wasn’t; he feels terrible for putting her in that spot.
When the movie ends, and Jee is satisfied with the amount of blueberries she ate, she finally turns to him. “Eddie?”
Jee used to call him ‘Uncle Eddie,’ but something about it made Eddie feel really weird, so he joked that it made him feel old, and just ‘Eddie’ was okay. He’s pretty sure Jee still thinks he’s her uncle, even though he’s technically not, but that’s okay. It’s complicated. Buck isn’t Eddie’s husband, but he is his partner.
“Yeah?” he responds.
“Where’s Uncle Buck?” she asks.
Of course she would mention Buck at the exact moment Eddie was thinking about him. Jee always had a way of making Eddie feel torn open. Chris, too; though as he gets older, and starts censoring himself, that’s lessened. “Um, he didn’t feel good. He had a bad headache. It’s, uh—It’s called a migraine. So he had to stay home,” he explains.
“Oh,” she responds, frowning. “I miss him.”
“Yeah. Me too,” he sighs. He misses Buck all the time. He misses Buck even when he’s right beside him, because it always feels like something is missing. Like they’re wasting their potential. “But hey, we’ll see him tomorrow, okay? If he feels better, I’ll bring him by.”
She sighs, kicking her feet against the couch. “Okay,” she says simply.
“I’m gonna put the rest of the blueberries up,” he says, grabbing the container. “Anything else you wanna do today? Wanna play a game?”
She doesn’t respond, instead standing up and running towards Maddie and Chim’s room. Eddie puts the blueberries away, then returns to see her struggling to carry a pink poofy princess dress.
“Oh,” he breathes, putting his hands on his hips. He stares down at the dress. “Already?”
She drops it on the couch, turning towards him. “Put it on.”
“Okay, bossy,” Eddie scoffs. “What about you, huh? Where’s your dress?”
“In my room,” she says, as if that was obvious. “Can you help me get it?”
He helps her get the dress that’s hanging up in her closet—a blue poofy princess dress with a matching tiara—and zips it on over her clothes. “Okay, Princess Jee,” he says, patting her on the shoulder. “Or are you Elsa?”
She scowls. “Elsa’s dress doesn’t look like this.”
He throws his hands in the air in surrender. “Okay, okay. Got it. You’re strict. You’re not Elsa.”
“Put yours on,” she demands.
“My—?” he asks, playing dumb. He knows exactly what she’s talking about, but the idea of it feels like such a task. Like something bigger than it is.
“The dress,” she replies, like he’s being silly and she has no time for it. “Put it on.”
Eddie swallows. It’s not a big deal. It’s just a dress. A dress that probably cost all of ten dollars. A dress that probably won’t even fit him. This is for Jee, and if he doesn’t put it on, Jee will probably throw a fit. Why does it feel like such a big deal? His parents aren’t here. They can’t see him, and he stopped caring about their opinion when he took Chris back to Los Angeles. “Okay,” he whispers. “I’ll put the dress on.”
He slips the dress on over his clothes in the living room, the dress completely covering them because he was wearing a t-shirt and shorts. He can’t see himself because there’s no mirror nearby, but when Jee sees him, she frowns again. “Wait,” she says, running back to her bedroom. She returns with another tiara. “Put this on.”
He chuckles, cheeks turning pink—embarrassment, maybe, but there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It's just a fake fucking dress and a plastic tiara. Jesus, Eddie, relax. “Okay, okay,” he says, putting on the tiara. “How do I look?”
She lights up immediately, jumping up and down and clapping. “Princess Eddie!”
And that—that has him tearing up inexplicably, smiling widely. He’s never been called that before. Never been allowed to be called that. Thinks if someone said that to him when he was sixteen, he would’ve started a fight. But it feels good. Really good, and he doesn’t know why. “Yeah? Do I look like a princess?”
“Go look,” she commands, pushing his legs in the direction of the bathroom. Eddie stands there frozen (pun not intended); he’s not sure why, because again—it’s just a dress. There’s no reason this should feel like a big deal. “Eddie,” she sighs.
“Alright. I’m going.” He takes a deep breath, willing himself to breathe, and walks to the bathroom, Jee trailing behind him. When he turns the bathroom light on, he nearly faints.
The tiara is too small for his head, clearly meant for Jee. The dress is cheap, that’s for sure. It’s also much too small for him, stretched across his chest and tight around his biceps. But—
But his eyelashes look really long like this, and his cheeks are red, and it almost looks like he has…
Well, it almost looks like he has blush on. And for some reason, out of everything, that’s what makes his stomach swoop. He tears up again, tears clumping up his eyelashes and falling down his cheeks, and he should really wipe them away or hide his face so he doesn’t scare Jee, but he can’t stop looking at himself. Eddie has never looked at himself and felt this—this overwhelming sense of belonging. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this in his life before.
Jee tugs on his shirt. “What’s wrong?”
“...Nothing,” Eddie says eventually, finally wiping his tears away. “Nothing. Don’t worry.”
“You look pretty,” she says, smiling softly. “Can we use Mommy’s makeup?”
Eddie almost loses it at the word pretty. She says it like she can’t imagine there being another word that describes him. Like it’s undeniably true. “Uh—no, sorry Jee,” he stammers, wiping his hands on a towel. “No makeup. You’re a little too little for that.”
“You’re not,” she argues.
“Yeah, but it’s not my makeup. So, uh—Maybe some other day?” he responds, reaching down to grab her hand and take her out of the bathroom.
She pulls him to her bedroom, pulling a storage container out of her closet. When she sets it on the coffee table, Eddie opens it to see plastic teacups inside. “Oh!” he exclaims, swallowing down whatever stupid emotion is trying to force its way to the surface right now. “Are we having a tea party?”
She looks at him like that was the dumbest question anyone could’ve possibly asked.
“Right,” he says, pulling out the cups. “Well, do you want to make tea?”
“We can?” she asks excitedly, already heading to the kitchen.
He walks to the kitchen, Jee trailing behind him. “I’ll just replace what we use. What’s the harm?”
“Yeah! No harm!” she mimics, causing Eddie to laugh.
“You ever drink tea?” he asks, digging in the pantry for it. She shakes her head. He pulls out a bag, carrying it to the stove. “I won’t put much sugar in it. It gets really sweet really fast. That’s how we like it in Texas, though. Real sweet.” He pulls out a pot, filling it with water and setting it on the stove. “It’s kinda like juice,” he explains.
“I like orange juice,” she says, trying and failing to get up on the counter.
Eddie picks her up, setting her on top of the counter. “Be careful. Don’t fall. You’ll hurt yourself,” he warns.
“I’m not,” she responds, kicking her feet against the side. “I’m big.”
He hums. “How old are you now?”
She holds up five fingers, thinks about it, then switches to four. Eddie chuckles. He remembers Chris deciding he was a big boy as soon as he turned ten. Like double digits meant he was an adult. Chris has come all the way around on that, though; he’s embraced being a teenager, wears it like a badge of honor. Eddie thinks he’s just afraid of all the responsibility that comes with being an adult now. Thinks maybe he’s seen too much; maybe he knows adult life comes with hardships and tragedy and self-discovery that completely rocks your world. Sometimes, Eddie thinks Chris looks at him and sees someone broken. It’s not an inaccurate conclusion, he thinks. Getting Chris back didn’t fix him. Realizing he was in love with Buck didn’t fix him. Coming out as gay didn’t fix him. Maybe he’s just too old for it now.
“Wow, you are big,” he agrees, setting the teabag in the water. “You’re almost as old as me,” he jokes.
“How old are you?” she asks.
He huffs out a laugh. “Thirty-three.” Suddenly, he looks down and is reminded of the princess dress he’s wearing, and his stomach twists again. He can’t tell if this is a good feeling or not; all he knows is that it’s so much. It feels so intense he feels sick with it, and now is really not the time for him to throw up. He sucks in a breath, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily. The plastic tiara digs into the side of his head.
Jee doesn’t seem to notice. “That’s not the same.”
He laughs again—or tries to, but it comes out all wrong. “You’re the one who said you were big.”
“You’re really big,” she says. “Old.”
He gasps in mock offense. “I’m old?!
“Mhm,” she responds.
“Jee, your parents are older than me,” Eddie argues. “Are they old?”
She actually seems to think about that. “No,” she answers. When he turns around, she’s wearing a wicked grin on her face, like she’s making a joke. “Only you.”
“Jee-Yun Buckley-Han, are you making fun of me?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Because I’ll have you know that Chris and your Uncle Buck make fun of me plenty.”
“I miss Chris,” she frowns. “And I miss Uncle Buck,” she repeats.
Eddie sighs. He misses Chris, too. Misses the way it used to be, before Chris grew up, before Eddie disappointed him beyond repair. That’s not fair, though; Chris gets to be his own person, even if that means being distant, and he’s forgiven him, but he’s still understandably wary. Still, when Chris gets home from school and goes immediately to his room, Eddie is reminded of staying out of the house as often as possible when he was a teenager, and he hopes that he’s never made Chris feel like he has to hide from him. It’s not just him he’s not talking to, though; it’s Buck, too, which eases something in Eddie’s mind. “So do I,” he says eventually. “I’ll bring them both by soon, okay? I promise.”
“Pinky promise?” she asks, sticking out her pinky.
He smiles softly, linking his pinky with hers. “Pinky promise.”
When the tea is done, he waits for it to cool down, briefly wonders if he’s even allowed to pour tea in those cups, decides he’ll just wash them, and pours lukewarm sweet tea in two pink plastic teacups. He sets them on the coffee table along with some cookies he found in the pantry, sitting criss-crossed on the floor across from Jee. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the game of pretend they’re about to play. “Princess Jee,” he says, pitching his voice up. The sound makes him shiver for some reason, that specific accent coming from his mouth making his heart quicken in his chest. He clears his throat, willing himself to calm down. “Did you want some cookies?”
“Yes, please,” she responds, reaching to take a bite out of her chocolate chip cookie without giving it a second thought. “Mommy says I’m not allowed to have this much sugar. But I can if I’m Princess Jee,” she explains.
“Queen Maddie is gonna kill me,” he sighs. “Blueberries, tea, and cookies?”
Jee kicks her leg into his underneath the table. “Use your princess voice,” she whispers.
Eddie chuckles nervously, swallowing down whatever reservations he’s having about this. He doesn’t get to be weird about this. This is for Jee, and he will be the best babysitter she’s ever had—Buck be damned. “Okay, Ms. Jee,” he says, putting the voice back on. “You’re sure Queen Maddie won’t banish me?”
“Queen Maddie is nice,” she responds, grabbing her teacup with both hands to take a sip. She makes a face. “This isn’t like juice.”
“Sorry, Miss, it’s just black tea. Would you like blueberry or strawberry next time?” he asks.
She nods. “Yes, please.” She sets her cup down, picking her cookie back up. “I don’t like it.”
“Well, you don’t have to,” he says, standing up. “I’ll get you some orange juice.”
She frowns. “But it’s a tea party.”
He shrugs. “You can have juice at a tea party,” he argues, though he’s not sure if that’s true at all. He coughs when he realizes he’s not putting on the voice anymore. His cheeks burn. He doesn’t know how to do this. Even when he played pretend with Sophia and Adriana as a kid, he was always a prince or a knight. This feels—ill-fitting. Just like the dress. But he wants to be good at it so badly. He wants to hear himself speak and feel like a princess, just like he looked in the mirror and saw a princess. “I mean—You can have juice at a tea party.”
Jee simply shrugs. “Okay. I want orange juice, please.”
Eddie pours her a cup of orange juice—not in the teacups, as he doesn’t want to dirty another one of her toy dishes—and brings it back to her. “Here you go, Your Majesty,” he says. “Should I try the cookie?”
She nods. He takes a bite out of his cookie, smiling exaggeratedly. “Very good, Princess Jee. Fresh out the oven.”
She wrinkles her nose. “That came from the store.”
That forces a laugh out of him, and he doubles over, putting his face in his hands. He feels silly. He’s not good at this. “Okay, not fresh out the oven,” he relents. “But fresh out the pantry.”
Jee hums. “I like it.”
“It pleases Your Highness?” he asks.
“Yep,” she responds. She takes a big sip of her orange juice. “Do you want juice, Princess Eddie?”
Juice. Father Brian had told him he was denying himself of joy, and he had related it to the juice Eddie had forgoed in favor of water. He makes it a point to buy apple juice during his grocery runs now, almost like he’s making a point. I am choosing joy, he imagines it says. I am not a broken man. I am choosing joy. I am happy to be gay, and I am happy with the life I’ve made for myself.
This time, though, he says no. “No juice for me, Princess Jee,” he replies, taking a sip of his tea. “Only Princess Jees can drink juice at a tea party.”
She doesn’t question his poor logic, but she does go, “Um, okay,” as if she doesn’t really believe him.
They go back and forth for a while, and Eddie feels like—like he’s filled with butterflies. Violent, angry butterflies, but butterflies all the same. Maybe this is shame. Maybe he’s not used to allowing himself to do something so—genuinely fun. Something no one would look at him and expect him to do. Something he undeniably enjoys, even though he feels clumsy at it.
“I have no more orange juice,” Jee says, showing him her empty cup. “Or cookies.”
“Did you want more, Your Highness?” he asks, already preparing to stand up.
She shakes her head. “I don’t want to play princesses anymore,” she says.
Eddie feels his stomach churn. Why does that bother him? He should be happy. He’s terrible at this game. He’s always been bad at playing pretend. He’s never roleplayed with a partner. He’s never been good at pretending he was getting rid of the monsters under Chris’s bed. Yes, he had to play the part of the loving husband with Shannon, but he was undeniably terrible at that, too. He’s always hated going on dates because he hated performing heterosexuality. It’s never been fun for him.
So why, he wonders, does the idea of going back to Normal Eddie feel like such a task?
He swallows. “What if I want to keep being Princess Eddie?” he whispers.
He regrets it as soon as it’s out of his mouth. It’s just a game. It’s a game with plastic teacups and a too-small dress and a cheap tiara. They’re sitting on the floor, for Christ’s sake. He’s being silly. Why is he being silly? Why does this matter at all?
She doesn’t seem to care, though. “You can,” she says simply, shrugging. “Do you want more cookies?”
He breathes out a laugh, relief filling him. Of course Jee wouldn’t judge him. She’s four, first of all, but she’s also incapable of seeing him as anything but her cool Uncle Eddie who lets her eat lots of sugar and watch Frozen on repeat. “No, no more cookies for me, thank you,” he says, pitching his voice back up.
She sighs heavily, putting her chin in her hands. “I’m bored.”
“Wanna watch another movie?” Eddie asks, standing up and grabbing the remote.
“What movie?” she responds, jumping onto the couch.
He thinks. He should say something like The SpongeBob Movie or Cars. He should shut this down. He shouldn’t entertain whatever this—this feeling is. It’s not real. It’s just pretend. Eddie doesn’t pretend anymore. Instead, he says, “The Little Mermaid? It’s, uh—my sister’s favorite movie.”
“You have a sister?”
“Mhm,” he answers, sitting beside her. “Two sisters. Little sisters.”
She goes quiet, kicking her feet against the couch once more. Finally, she asks, “You’re a big sister like me?”
Eddie’s heart squeezes painfully in his chest. The butterflies attack his insides. It’s funny, in a way. Jee doesn’t know. She doesn’t know the difference between brother and sister. All she knows is that she and Eddie both have younger siblings, and she wants to relate to her favorite babysitter. Once again, Eddie finds himself getting frustrated at his insistence on making a big deal out of everything. He isn’t being made fun of. Jee genuinely just doesn’t know the word for sibling yet. “Uh, no,” he forces out, clenching his jaw. “I’m a big brother ‘cause I’m a boy. You’re a big sister because you’re a girl,” he explains.
She frowns, eyebrows pinching together in confusion. “But,” she starts, thinking hard, “you’re Princess Eddie.”
He takes a deep breath, trying to will the nausea away, but it’s not working. He doesn’t like this. He doesn’t like whatever is happening. “No, I’m not actually a princess, Jee. I was just playing pretend.”
Jee twists her lips in thought. “Do you want to be a prince instead?” she asks.
And for some reason, more than anything, that makes his chest ache. It feels like something is trying to tear him open, like—like—like he’s trapped inside of himself and can’t get himself out. “No,” he says quietly. “No, I just want to be Eddie for now. I don’t want to play princess anymore.”
She hums. “Okay!” she exclaims, reaching over and pressing play on the remote.
During The Little Mermaid, Eddie tries his hardest to wipe his mind clean. He does not think about how much Ariel longs to be human. He does not think about how she had to give a part of herself up to achieve it. He does not think about how she gets her voice back and gets to continue being a human at the end. He especially does not think about how free she seems, or how beautiful she is.
After the movie is over, Jee yawns into her hand. “I’m sleepy,” she says.
“You wanna go to bed now? You can stay up a couple more hours if you want. It’s not ten yet.”
“I want to,” she answers, standing up and walking to her bedroom. Eddie trails behind her, standing behind the closed door as she changes into her pajamas. When she opens it again, he tucks her into bed, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.
“Goodnight, Jee,” he whispers, smiling softly despite the stabbing pain in his chest. “I’ll be gone by the time you wake up, but I’ll be back tomorrow. With Chris and Uncle Buck.”
She beams. “Okay.” She closes her eyes, turning on her side, and Eddie gets halfway out the door before he hears, “Is Uncle Buck your prince?”
He freezes where he stands, taking a deep breath. Jee is just a kid. She doesn’t understand why—why these things would upset him, and he shouldn’t let it. It’s not a big fucking deal, Eddie. “No,” he answers. “He’s just my friend. My knight.”
Jee hums. “Okay,” she murmurs, closing her eyes again. Eddie watches her for a moment, then slips out of the room, shutting the door softly behind her.
After checking on Robby, washing the teacups, and turning off the television, he stands in the bathroom, staring at himself wearing the dress. He feels stupid. Silly. Overdramatic. He reaches to pull it off, and immediately tears up, placing his face in his hands and taking a shuddering breath. “Stop being fucking stupid, Eddie. Get a hold of yourself,” he says to himself, an exact recreation of his father, so much so that it scares him a little. “This is not how a Diaz behaves,” he whispers, looking up into his eyes so he internalizes the words. This is not how a Diaz behaves. This is not how a Diaz behaves. This is not how a Diaz behaves.
They don’t wear princess dresses and cry looking at themselves in the mirror and watch The Little Mermaid. Their hands don’t shake when they reach to undo the Velcro on the dress. They don’t think back to a four year old girl calling them pretty and think about crawling in a hole forever so they don’t have to process why that meant so much to them. They don’t play pretend. This isn’t how a Diaz behaves, and it’s not how a Diaz allows themself to feel.
Eddie takes the dress off. He takes the tiara off. He throws both back on Maddie’s bed, then exits the room and doesn’t look at it again. When Maddie and Chimney return, he tells them Jee went to sleep a few hours ago. When Maddie asks about the dress, all he says is, “You were right. It was too small.”
He drives home in silence. He doesn’t want to listen to music. He doesn’t want to feel the breeze. He just wants to go to bed.
Buck is awake when he gets back, laid up in bed, scrolling on his phone, seemingly feeling better. He looks up when Eddie enters. “How’d it go? You look…”
Eddie chuckles nervously. “Look what?”
He twists his lips together. “Like shit,” he responds. “Did she throw a tantrum or something?”
“I have a fourteen-year-old. I can handle tantrums,” Eddie says, sitting on the bed beside him. “You not sleeping on the couch tonight?”
“Well, I was trying to lay in the dark, and then I just didn’t want to get up,” Buck explains. “Why? You kicking me out?”
“Never,” Eddie answers earnestly. “Was just wondering.”
“So why do you look like shit?” Buck asks, raising an eyebrow. “That’s your nauseous look.”
Eddie snorts. “My nauseous look?”
“Yeah. You get really upset about something and get nauseous, and then there’s this look on your face. So what is it?”
Buck’s never been good at being subtle. He used to try, back when they had just become friends, but now he doesn’t attempt to censor himself in the slightest. It’s nice sometimes. It’s not now. “Nothing’s wrong, Buck. I think you’re imagining things.”
He looks entirely unconvinced. “Eddie.”
“Good to know I look like shit when I’m tired, man. Real classy,” Eddie says, crossing his arms over his chest. He knows he’s being unfair. Buck isn’t wrong. But Buck always has a way of seeing him more than Eddie is comfortable with, and he just doesn’t want to deal with that right now.
Buck sticks his hands in the air. “Not what I meant,” he says. “Just—You sure you’re okay? Nothing happened?”
“Nope,” he answers. “We watched Frozen, then played princesses, then watched The Little Mermaid, then Jee went to bed.”
He snorts. “I’m sensing a theme. Did you wear a dress?”
Eddie feels his heart sink. Fuck why did he bring this up? “No,” he lies, looking away. “The dress was too small.”
“Damn, that’s too bad. I’d love to see that.”
Eddie has to try very hard to not think about what that means. “I think you’d be disappointed,” he mumbles.
Buck waves a hand. “Nah.” He sets his phone down on the dresser, lifting the covers. “Sleep with me?”
“You sure?”
“Of course,” Buck responds. “Right now, preferably. I’m beat. And obviously so are you.”
Eddie huffs a laugh, cheeks warming up. “Buck, I haven’t showered.”
“You can shower in the morning,” Buck offers. He pouts exaggeratedly. “Please?”
Eddie swallows. This isn’t really something they do—the whole sharing a bed. They have before, of course, because they’ve known each other for almost a decade, but it’s not normally something they choose to do. Buck always says he takes up too much space on the bed to share, and Eddie lets him get away with that excuse. “Okay, okay,” he whispers, pulling off his jeans before getting underneath the covers.
Buck wraps his arms around him after a couple minutes, his face pressed to the back of Eddie’s neck. Like this, he can almost pretend they’re together; he can pretend that they’re happy. But something feels wrong. Something feels off. He feels like throwing up. Buck presses a kiss to the back of his neck. “Goodnight, Eddie,” he whispers. “I’m sorry you had a bad day.”
Eddie’s stomach drops. Of course Buck would know anyway. Buck loves him. Buck knows him. But he wouldn’t understand this.
Eddie forces his tense body to relax, then squeezes his eyes shut.
-
Eddie wakes up to Buck still pressed into the back of his neck, scrolling on his phone. He turns around, facing him, their faces inches from each other. Buck smiles softly, setting his phone down. “Hi,” he whispers.
Eddie matches his smile. “Hi.”
“How do you feel?”
“I, uh…I slept well,” Eddie tries.
Buck hums noncommittally. “You okay?” he asks.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Eddie retorts.
He shrugs. “Just wondering. I’m gonna make some breakfast, okay? How does blueberry pancakes sound?”
He snorts. “You’re doing that for Chris, not for me.”
“Hey, you love it, too,” Buck teases. “...Right?” he asks timidly. “You do love my pancakes, right?”
“Of course I do,” Eddie chuckles. “I’m just fucking with you. I’d take your stupid sugary breakfast any day.”
“Uh, I’m sorry, does Your Highness want Raisin Bran instead?” he snorts. “Sorry, some of us like flavor.”
Eddie tries very hard to ignore Your Highness. “You know I love sweets,” Eddie says earnestly. “I just worry we’re feeding Chris too much sugar.”
“We balance it out,” Buck shrugs. “Besides, you can always say no. You’re not going to, though, are you?”
Eddie gives Buck an unimpressed look. “You know I’m not,” he responds.
“Then coming right up, Your Majesty,” Buck says, standing up and walking towards the kitchen.
When the pancakes and sausage are done, they sit down at the kitchen table, Chris picking at his pancakes with his fork.
“What is it?” Buck asks. “Do you not like them?”
Chris scoffs. “I haven’t even taken a bite yet.”
Buck throws his hands in the air. “My bad.”
“I just…” He shrugs. “I’m tired of pancakes.”
Eddie shoots a glance Buck’s way. He looks stricken. Eddie sighs, busying himself with his own pancakes so he won’t have to look at them. “Oh,” Buck mumbles. “Sorry, buddy. What did you want instead?”
“‘Dunno. Something else. French toast, maybe.”
He sees Buck nod rapidly in his peripheral vision. “Yeah, we can do french toast tomorrow. That sounds great, man. Sorry if we’ve had pancakes too often.”
“Well, I know you like eating the same thing, so it’s okay,” he says. “I’m still gonna eat it.”
“No, I should’ve asked you what you wanted. I’m—I’m sorry, Chris.” Eddie sees him smile softly, and he busies himself with another big bite.
After a couple moments of silence, Eddie clears his throat, looking up. “Jee wanted to see you two today.”
“Well, that’s surprising,” Buck jokes. “She only wants to see her Uncle Eddie nowadays.”
Eddie can’t pinpoint why exactly Uncle Eddie makes him so uncomfortable, but it does. He shifts in his seat. “Don’t call me that,” he says lightly. “It makes me feel old.”
“You are old,” Chris says.
Eddie rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Hey, thanks, bud,” he says sarcastically. “You’re just a ball of sunshine today, aren’t you?”
Chris completely ignores this. “Can we go to Chim and Maddie’s house today?”
Eddie looks at Buck for a long time. “Of course,” he answers. “After we eat.”
Chris sighs heavily, but he shoves a bite in his mouth.
After breakfast, they all get ready to head to Chimney and Maddie’s house, and Buck hums along to the radio from the driver’s seat of his truck as he drives.
“I threw a wish in the well, don’t ask me I’ll never tell, I looked to you as it fell, and now you’re in my way,” Buck sings.
Eddie snorts. “Are you singing Call Me Maybe at ten a.m.?”
“Uh, when’s the appropriate time to sing it?” Buck scoffs.
“More than an hour after I opened my eyes,” Eddie teases. Buck gasps softly, swatting him on the arm.
“I’ve been awake for hours, Sleeping Beauty. It’s not my fault you sleep like the dead,” Buck says.
Eddie feels his stomach twist at Sleeping Beauty and chooses to ignore it. He will not ruin his day again, not when Buck is clearly trying his hardest to make it good. “Did the beauty sleep work, at least?” he tries, aiming for levity.
“What are you, fishing? You don’t need sleep to be gorgeous, man,” Buck says quietly, so quiet it’s almost drowned out by the radio.
A smile splits Eddie’s face. “Sorry, I couldn’t quite hear that. Care to repeat it?”
Buck flushes, cheeks turning red. “Fuck you,” he whispers, shooting a glance to Chris in the backseat. “You know what I meant.”
When Maddie opens the door, Jee runs up behind her. “Uncle Buck!” she exclaims, throwing her arms around his legs. She turns toward Chris. “Hi, Chris!”
“Hi, Jee,” Chris says, pushing his way inside. Eddie and Buck follow suit, sitting on the couch.
Maddie sighs, sitting down. “Howie is at the grocery store picking up more blueberries because someone ate them all. You know anything about that, Eddie?”
Eddie chuckles nervously. “Uh, nope,” he lies. “Don’t know who that would’ve been.”
“Jee can’t stop talking about how much she wants you to come back to babysit. I think she likes you more than me,” she laughs.
“I’m surprised,” Eddie scoffs. “I made her tea, and she hated it.”
Maddie grins. “Only the best for Princess Jee.”
Jee kicks her feet against the couch. “Can we watch Frozen?”
Maddie sighs softly. “After they leave, honey.”
Jee lights up. “Or The Little Mermaid?”
Maddie gasps. “Eddie, don’t tell me you introduced her to another princess movie.”
Eddie freezes. “Uh…”
“Oh, yeah, you used to love that movie, right?” Buck asks, looking up from Chris’s phone. “You used to watch it all the time when you were little.”
Maddie looks shocked. Eddie swallows thickly, cheeks heating up out of embarrassment. “No, it was Sophia’s favorite movie. I just happened to be around.”
“Oh, and I’m sure you didn’t enjoy it at all?” she asks.
“I, uh…I wasn’t really allowed to watch it, actually,” Eddie admits, fidgeting with his fingers. “Would get in trouble if I tried.”
Maddie frowns. “That’s sad,” she says earnestly. The statement pierces through Eddie’s gut. That’s sad? “I didn’t know your parents were like that.”
Eddie looks over at Chris. Chris looks uncomfortable at the mention of his grandparents. “It’s not a big deal,” he says quickly. “I’m an adult now, so.”
“And you can watch however many princess movies you want,” Maddie smiles. “Just stop introducing my daughter to them,” she teases.
His heart drops against his will. It’s just a joke about Jee watching princess movies on repeat, but it feels like confirmation that Eddie shouldn’t be letting himself enjoy this. That his parents might’ve been right in a way. He clears his throat. “Will do.”
-
Eddie loves his turnouts. He loves the way everyone looks the same in them. He likes that there’s no difference between how he looks in them and how Hen looks in hers. He likes that he can’t really see his muscles in them, because he’s started to feel weird about the way they look.
He’s being so ridiculous lately. He needs to get a hold of himself. Surely all of this is not because of a game of pretend. What is he, five?
He can’t stop looking at himself in the mirror; unlike when he was wearing the dress, he can’t stop looking because he’s trying to figure out what’s missing. Why he feels so stuck. Why wearing Maddie’s fifteen dollar princess dress has stuck with him like this. If that’s actually what started this.
He isn’t sure. He isn’t sure if he felt like this before, but he doesn’t like it. He’s been in a constant state of nausea for weeks. He hasn’t gone back to babysit Jee. It feels like he’s avoiding something. Like he’s avoiding an obvious conclusion, but he doesn’t know what it would even be.
-
One night, Buck takes him for a drive.
Buck sits there, fingers tapping against the steering wheel as he drives. Eddie has no idea where they’re going, and he honestly can’t find it in himself to care. Can’t find it in himself to think about much of anything except for how much he wants to throw up. He knows Buck can tell. Can feel him watching him. Buck knows something is wrong, and the restraint he’s shown in not bringing it up is admirable. Still, Eddie can feel it coming. He can feel Buck thinking about what to say.
“We’re, uh,” Buck starts, clearing his throat. “We’re going to the beach.”
“Oh,” Eddie responds dumbly, words stuck in his throat. “Uh. Why?”
Buck takes a deep breath through his nose. “Because I think you need to get outside for a bit,” he answers.
“I’m fine, Buck.”
“Sure,” he says quickly. “You just can’t even look at yourself in the mirror. That’s perfectly fine.”
Eddie’s breath hitches. “What? What are you talking about?”
“I see you. In the morning, when you’re getting ready. You stare at yourself like you don’t recognize yourself in the mirror. You always look like you’re gonna vomit. I don’t know what happened, but I—You know you’re not ugly, right?”
He clenches his teeth together. “Yeah, man,” he forces out. “I know that.”
Buck pauses for a long moment. “So what is it?” he whispers. “Can I help?”
“I’ve just been feeling off lately. It's not a big deal. You don’t need to—to stage an intervention,” Eddie argues. Buck always has a way of making him feel torn open. Raw. Naked. “We don’t need to go to the beach, Buck.”
“Maybe not,” Buck responds. “But we’re going anyway.”
They sit on the beach, which is starting to get cold at night, crisp November air chilling them down to their bones. Eddie lets the wind blow over his cheeks; looks out at the ocean waves crashing against the shore. He wants to get far away from it. He also wants to walk in and never come out. “Should’ve told me to bring a jacket,” Eddie mumbles.
“Would you have done it?” Buck asks.
He turns towards Buck. “What? Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you’ve been doing this…” He waves a hand. “This bullshit self-punishing thing recently. No sweets allowed. No babysitting. No dating. No jackets. I would’ve told you to put on a jacket, and you would’ve said you didn’t need one.”
“Well, I don’t need one. I can deal with fifty fucking degrees,” Eddie says sharply.
“But why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you have to need it?” he asks. “Why can’t you just do it because you—because you fucking want it?”
Because he wants things that will hurt him. Because he wants things that’ll ruin his life. Because he wants things he doesn’t deserve to have. “Because bad things happen when I try to want things,” Eddie admits.
“Like what?” Buck probes.
“Like—I don’t fucking know, Buck. Like candy. My mom put me on a diet when I was eleven because I asked her for candy for Christmas.”
“Well, your mom is a fucking asshole,” he scoffs. “Why do you care what she thinks?”
“I don’t.”
“Then who are you so afraid of?”
“Me!” Eddie exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. “I care. I care if I’m being stupid. I care if I’m letting myself get caught up in—in—in a stupid fucking game of pretend. I care if I’m being impractical. I care if I’m guilty.”
Buck is looking at him with big, sad eyes. “Guilty of what?”
“Of being ungrateful,” Eddie whispers. “I’m an out gay man. I’m a father to the best kid anyone could ever ask for. I’m muscular. I have you. I’m a fucking firefighter.” He pauses, looking back at the ocean. “And you know what, Buck? I hate it. Absolutely nothing is wrong, and I still hate it.”
“Eddie…” Buck says quietly. “You don’t have to be a firefighter if it’s making you this miserable. I’ll understand. So will everyone else.”
“No, I love being a firefighter,” Eddie corrects.
“Then what do you hate? Being a dad?”
“I hate—I hate—” He’s so miserable. He’s so angry. He’s so sad. “I hate my life. I hate all of it.” It’s not anything he’d ever allowed himself to say. He’s been trying so hard for so many years. Trying to be grateful. Trying to better himself. But it’s never enough for him, is it?
Buck’s gaze has turned wide and concerned—and of course it has. Eddie hasn’t thought I hate my life since he was fifteen, but it’s true. He hates all of this. He hates not being able to look at himself in the mirror. He hates feeling nauseous. He hates feeling incomplete. He hates that something is clearly wrong with him. He hates that he hasn’t told Frank any of this because he’s too scared of what he’ll say. “Eddie, I’m—Do you—Do you need me to call someone?”
“No. I’m fine,” Eddie responds quickly. “I just need a…a cigarette or something.”
“D’you want a drink?”
Yes. “No. No, I just want to go to bed.”
Buck is quiet. No one else is on the beach. It’s just them and the waves and the wind. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t know how to make it better. But I do know you’re allowed to want things without being punished for it. And if you want to make your life better—whatever that looks like—I believe that you can. I hate seeing you like this.”
Eddie tries really hard to internalize those words. “Thanks, Buck.”
“You can want things, Eddie,” Buck repeats.
Eddie closes his eyes, tears springing to them. “Stop saying that,” he whispers.
“Why?” Buck whispers back.
He opens his eyes again, looking at Buck for a long moment. Buck is so beautiful. Buck loves him so much. Why can’t they be happy? Why can’t he be happy? “What if I want you?”
Buck’s mouth drops open, and his eyes get wet and shiny. “Eddie.”
“Please?”
“That’s not what’s bothering you,” Buck says, shaking his head. “I know you, baby. That’s not what this is.”
“But it would make things so much better,” Eddie forces out. He grabs Buck’s face in his hands. “Wouldn’t it? If we were happy? What are you waiting for?”
“Eddie,” he warns.
“Can—” Eddie takes a deep breath, working himself up to it. He needs to say this. Maybe this will fix him. Maybe this will fix everything. “Can I kiss you?”
Buck takes a shuddering breath. “Eddie, I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“Sorry?” Eddie repeats. “Why are you sorry?”
Tears slide down his cheeks. He looks heartbroken. Why does he look heartbroken? Isn’t this a good thing? “Maybe you should think about this, Eddie.”
Eddie freezes where he’s sitting, hands lifting off of Buck’s face.
Of course. This isn’t what Buck meant. This isn’t what he thought he would do. Eddie may want him, but Buck doesn’t.
Why would Buck love him if Eddie doesn’t even love himself?
“Sorry,” Eddie says, wrapping his arms around himself. He can’t keep doing this. Things need to change before he loses his mind. “Sorry, I thought—”
“It’s okay,” Buck responds quickly. “Should we, uh…go home? You look like you’re freezing.”
Eddie fidgets with his fingers. He was right. It’s not Buck’s fault, but God, he was right. Bad things happen when he tries to want things. He wants to stay on the beach. He wants to walk into the ocean. He doesn’t. “Okay, Buck,” he answers hollowly. “Let’s go home.”
-
Eddie can’t stop thinking about the stupid fucking princess dress.
It’s gnawing at him. It’s making him feel awful. A deep, angry sense of longing has settled over him. He can’t stop being mean to himself. He’s never felt ugly before, but all he thinks when he looks at himself is that he’s not pretty. Not like Jee said. Princess Eddie is pretty. Princess Eddie is soft. Princess Eddie is deserving of good things. He isn’t. And it’s so stupid. He can’t stop feeling like that. Like he’s being ridiculous.
Buck doesn’t sleep in the bed with him anymore. Eddie has irreparably fucked that up, and of course he did. He wasn’t trying to do a good thing. He wasn’t trying to kiss Buck because that was the right moment to do it. He was trying to kiss him because he thought it would fix him. And it wouldn’t have. He just would’ve had Buck and still been miserable and it would’ve been a million times worse.
He thinks about Buck looking at him and wanting to kiss him the way that he is and wants to tear his skin off. How can Buck not see it? How can’t Buck tell that something is seriously wrong with him? That he’s broken? That something is missing?
Everyone can tell now. Everyone can see how miserable he is, and he has no idea how to mask it. Frank asks him if he’s doing okay and all he can manage is a Not really with no elaboration.
He can’t look at Hen. He can’t look at Karen. He can’t look at Maddie. He can’t even look at Jee. It just feels like they all have something he doesn’t. And that, selfishly, makes him angry. What did he do to deserve being born like this? Why is he the only one that feels this way? What is wrong with him?
He sits on the couch, home alone, and presses play on The Little Mermaid. His hands tremble, and his teeth grind together, and he feels so ashamed. Ashamed he couldn’t get over this. Ashamed he’s letting himself indulge in the fantasy. Ashamed it’s been months, and he’s let himself spiral into depression over a fucking princess tea party.
When Part of Your World comes on, he bursts into a sob, drawing his knees to his chest, and that’s when he knows.
He wants. He wants to be a part of their world. He doesn’t want to be stuck in this world he’s found himself in. He can’t keep living like this. He thinks he wouldn’t even mind if Ursula came along and stole his voice in exchange for it. He wants—He wants—
He wants to be a princess. A woman.
“Wouldn’t you think I’m the girl…The girl who has everything?” Ariel sings.
Eddie has everything. He has everything he could ever need. He doesn’t need more.
But he wants more. And it’s destroying him.
It’s—
It’s destroying her.
The realization should feel liberating. She should feel excited at the prospect of being her authentic self. All she feels is anxiety. Hatred. Despair. She’ll never get to be that. She’s not—She’s not a fucking princess. She’s just Edmundo Diaz.
She grabs the remote and turns the TV off.
-
Now that Eddie knows, she doesn’t know what to do. The feeling has only gotten worse. She had confessed it to Frank one day through tears, looking down at the ground instead of at him.
“I just—” she had started, shaking her head rapidly. “I don’t know how to look at myself. I don’t know how to feel okay. And I don’t want a diagnosis, I just want to know what the fuck is wrong with me.”
Apparently, it’s called gender dysphoria, and it’s only really solved by social or physical transitioning. And sometimes it doesn’t fully go away at all. So she’s going to feel like this forever. That realization hits her square in the chest, so forcefully that she can’t breathe with it, and she has a panic attack right in Frank’s office.
She doesn’t tell Buck. She doesn’t tell anyone except Frank. She can’t handle the idea of Buck looking at her with disappointment. Of him wishing she wasn’t like this. She already wishes that enough.
She, truthfully, does a terrible job at hiding it. Buck already knew she was miserable, but now he’s starting to notice her puffy eyes from crying herself to sleep. He suggests one day, gingerly, that she start antidepressants.
Eddie had shaken her head. “Not depressed, Buck,” she answered, and that was that, because the sound of her voice made her stomach churn.
-
And of course, because nothing can go right for her, the first time she sees Maddie and Jee in over a month, Maddie brings it up.
“Jee cannot stop gushing over you in my dress,” Maddie giggles, taking a lick of her rocky road ice cream. Eddie freezes where she’s holding her spoon, heart dropping to her gut. “Says you looked just like a real princess.”
Eddie is frozen. She doesn’t know what to say, but she needs to say something because Maddie is waiting on it. Buck speaks first. “I thought it didn’t fit?” he asks.
“Oh, it probably didn’t,” Maddie says, waving a hand. “But Uncle Eddie still wore it for his Princess Jee.” She smiles, twirling Jee’s pigtail, who is sitting with her chin in her hands, already having finished her ice cream.
“I miss Princess Eddie,” Jee sighs. “Can she come back?”
“He,” Chimney corrects, chewing on his waffle cone. Eddie’s hands shake. She doesn’t know how to get out of this. “Some princesses are boys.”
It’s true. Of course it’s true. Eddie is a boy. She always will be, because she’s too much of a coward to change anything. But it still feels like a punch in the stomach. Buck is watching her, frowning slightly. “Huh,” he says quietly. “Well, Eddie will have to babysit again soon.”
“If he wants,” Maddie assures. He. Him. Uncle. Dad. Boy. Man. “But yes, my point is, Jee would love that.”
Eddie swallows. A knot forms in her throat, and she doesn’t say anything again for several seconds. Finally, she says, “Yeah. I’d love to do that. Just been busy.”
Maddie smiles, Jee cheers, Chimney takes another bite of his cone, and Buck keeps watching her in the corner of his eye.
Buck is silent on the drive home. When they get inside, Eddie pushes past him, attempting to hide herself in her bedroom, but Buck stops her.
“Eddie, what’s wrong?” Buck asks, setting a hand on her shoulder. “What is it?”
Eddie opens her mouth to speak, hands shaking, and feels bile rise up in her throat. Fuck. She can’t do this. She can’t make it real. Not when Buck is looking at her like that. She doesn’t want to disappoint him like she knows this will.
She pushes past him, sprints to the bathroom, and vomits all her ice cream into the toilet.
Buck watches her with a frown on her face, rubbing her back. When she’s finished, he helps her stand on shaky legs, but she shoves him away lightly, and brushes her teeth in silence. Buck watches her the entire time. “Eddie,” he breathes. “What’s wrong?”
She shrugs. “Must be sick.”
“No, you’re not,” he responds immediately. “You’re anxious. I can tell. You throw up when—when something is really bothering you, so what is it?”
“I’m anxious because I’m sick.”
“Eddie,” he says sharply. “I’m not gonna drop this. You might as well tell me. Did…” He twists his lips in thought. “Did Maddie telling me about the dress thing bother you? It doesn’t matter to me if you wear a dress.”
She shakes her head rapidly. “It should,” she declares.
“Why? Why would it matter?” Buck searches. Eddie doesn’t know how to tell him that she looks ridiculous without sounding like an asshole who thinks men shouldn’t wear dresses. But that’s not—that’s not what Eddie does. That’s not what Eddie should be doing. She hasn’t even tried to transition. She doesn’t get to claim this. Not when all she was doing was playing pretend. Not when other people have suffered. She’s in her thirties.
“I’m just being fucking stupid,” Eddie responds sharply. “And letting myself get—get caught up in fantasies.”
“About…” Buck purses his lips. “About…being a princess?” he asks hesitantly.
Eddie is silent, but the silence is answer enough. Buck looks—confused, which of course he would be. Why would he understand this? “Baby, you can be a princess if you want. If you want to dress up, that’s fine. You don’t have to be…‘manly’ or whatever. That’s not important to me. But you can still be you and dress up like a princess.”
“I don’t wanna be me!” Eddie exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air. “I—I played princesses with Jee, and I felt silly. I felt stupid. But then I saw myself in that dress, and…” She sucks in a breath. “I had to know for sure. Something was wrong. So I turned on The Little Mermaid. And…I knew,” she confesses shakily. “I wanted to be her so bad. Then I turned off the TV and shoved that want at the back of the closet.”
Buck is quiet. “Okay,” he whispers eventually. “I’m—I don’t think I get it, Eds. I’m sorry,” he admits. “You knew what?”
She squeezes her eyes shut. She can’t keep looking at him. She can’t look him in the eyes when she disappoints him like this. “I’m a fucking woman, Buck. Okay? Been calling myself she and all. But I don’t want to be. It’s too hard.”
“Oh,” Buck breathes. “Oh. That…That’s…That’s not bad. At all. That’s great, baby.” He taps the side of her cheek lightly. “Hey, hey, look at me.” Eddie opens her eyes. “Why’s it hard? ‘Cause of assholes?” he asks.
“No one’s gonna look at me and—and see a woman,” she says, jaw clenched. “There’s no point in even pretending.”
“Would you say that about someone else?” Buck asks earnestly. “Actually think about that.”
“Like, an—another tr—” She can’t even say it. She can’t get it out. Isn’t she supposed to feel liberated? “Of course not.”
“Then why would you say it about you? Why are you being mean to yourself?”
Eddie’s breath hitches, and she begins to tear up. “Because, Buck,” she answers, voice thick with emotion. “I’m not pretty. Actually look at me and be fucking serious.”
“What?” Buck responds, like he’s genuinely confused. “I am looking at you. I think you’re beautiful. And—And women don’t look a certain way, so I need you to stop this right now.”
The words should feel relieving. All they make Eddie feel is angry. “You’re a fucking liar,” she whispers.
Buck rears back in shock. “Wh—What?”
“If you thought I was beautiful, you’d want to be with me,” she says, sniffing. It’s not fair. It’s not fair at all, but Eddie can’t stop what she feels. “But you don’t, do you?”
“I—Who said I don’t want to be with you?” he asks.
“You did. With your actions. When you said Maybe you should think about this, Eddie. When I asked to kiss you, and you pushed me away.”
Buck takes a deep breath. “That’s not—That isn’t because I don’t want to be with you,” he says.
“Then what is it? I’ve been waiting for so long, Buck. I’m tired of waiting.”
“Eddie, couples…they break up. I don’t have the best track record, and if I lost you, I’d lose my fucking mind,” he explains. “Plus, that wasn’t what you needed. I could tell.”
“You won’t lose me. You couldn’t. I’m yours,” she says.
“Eddie. I’m trying so hard to be perfect here.”
“You are perfect.”
He moves closer to her, faces inches away from each other, and grabs her face in his hands. “I do think you’re beautiful. You are beautiful. And I love you. Can you say that?”
She sniffs again. “I love you?”
“No, say—say Buck loves me,” he commands.
Her eyes well up with tears again. “Buck loves me,” she repeats.
“And I’m beautiful.”
“And I’m beautiful.”
“I’m a beautiful woman.”
“I—” Eddie gasps in a breath. “I can’t say that, Buck.”
“Why?” he asks.
“Because it’s not true.”
He shakes his head softly. “Say it. Please. I want to hear it.”
She stares at him for a long time. The words don’t feel true. It feels like—like she’s playing pretend again. She feels childish and stupid. But Buck is looking at her like he’s waiting for something, like he needs her to say it. Tears spill over her cheeks, and she squeezes her eyes shut. “I’m—I’m a…beautiful woman,” she whispers.
“Say it again,” he murmurs. She inhales shakily. “Come on, Eddie.”
“I’m a beautiful woman,” she repeats.
“You are. Buck wants to be with me.”
“Buck wants to be with me,” Eddie says.
“Forever.”
“For—” She opens her eyes, gaze softening. “Forever?”
“Forever,” he repeats. “Can I kiss you?”
“Just do it.”
He shakes his head again. “I want to make sure the answer is yes.”
“It is.”
He grins. “Then say it.”
“Yes,” she breathes. “Please kiss me. Please.”
He caresses her cheeks with his fingertips, watching her, and then he leans in slowly, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
It’s slow and syrupy. It's exactly as tender as she imagined and nothing like she ever thought she’d get. Buck’s lips are so soft, and she’s so in love she could cry. She is crying, openly, in a way that she never allowed herself to.
When she pulls back, Buck makes a small hurt sound. Eddie giggles. “You’ve been holding out on me, Buckley.”
He groans. “Easy for you to say. I’ve been trying to figure out how to do this for years.”
“You didn’t need to do that,” she says. “I was ready. I’ve been ready.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t,” he whispers. “But I am now.”
“I don’t think I’m ready to tell anyone else,” Eddie says honestly. “I can’t even—can’t even say the word.”
“‘Trans’?” Buck questions.
Eddie nods.
“You don’t have to,” Buck assures. “You can say it whenever you want. But, uh…” He sucks in a breath, pausing. “I need you to know that I’ll have to keep calling you he around people if you’re not ready to come out. Is that okay?”
Fuck. The idea makes Eddie’s stomach churn. She may not be ready, but the idea of knowing they’re using the wrong words and not being able to correct them makes her sick. “No. Fuck. Just—I’ll tell them.”
Buck frowns. “You sure? If you’re not ready, I could…I could maybe use they instead when they’re around. Would that be better?”
Eddie shakes her head rapidly. “No, no. No, I’ll tell them. Fuck, just—I should at least tell Chris.” Her heart sinks at the idea. “God, he’s gonna be so disappointed.”
He tilts his head. “Why would he be disappointed?”
“Because he already had a mom,” Eddie answers. “And I’ve been his dad for so long. I—I wish I could say it doesn’t matter to me what he calls me, but…”
“It does,” Buck finishes. “And that’s okay. Most women wouldn’t want to be called dad. Nothing weird about that.”
“Is he gonna understand?” Eddie asks quietly. “Be honest. Tell it to me straight, don’t just be nice to me.”
“I think…” He sighs. “I think he might understand this better than I do. He’s young. I’m still figuring out how this works, but he likely already knows. But just like I’m always gonna be there for you, so will he. He’s a good kid. You know that. I promise no one is gonna judge you. Not Chris, not the 118, and not me. Okay?”
Eddie sniffs. “Okay,” she whispers.
Buck leans in, pressing another kiss to her lips. “I love you,” he murmurs.
She smiles softly. “I love you, too.”
“And I want you to be happy no matter what. So does everyone else. And I’m so—” His breath hitches. “You’re so beautiful. I’m so proud of you.”
“Buck. I don’t know how to feel right now,” she admits. “I can’t believe I came out in my bathroom.”
He chuckles softly. “That’s okay. You don’t have to know. I’m sorry if I…if I pushed you. I’m sorry if you weren’t ready.”
“No, I needed to tell someone. I—I need to tell everyone. I want everyone to know.”
Buck smiles lopsidedly. “You want to be you?”
She nods softly, collapsing onto him, her face in his neck. “Yeah. I want to be me.”
“You can look however you want to,” Buck murmurs. “But one day, you’re gonna look in the mirror and your outsides are gonna match your insides.”
It doesn’t sound real. It doesn’t feel like it could actually be true. But Buck is saying it so earnestly. Maybe it could be. Maybe she could be happy. Maybe she doesn’t have to feel like this. “I love you,” she repeats.
Buck rubs her back soothingly. “I love you, too, Princess Eddie.”
And Eddie—Eddie sobs into his neck in the dim light of her bathroom, taking heavy, shuddering breaths. For the first time in what feels like forever, it doesn’t feel like dread. It feels like hope. Hope for what could be. Hope for what will be.
Eddie pulls back, hands on the sides of his neck, and kisses him again just because she can.