Chapter Text
El Paso, Texas
1997
“Matthew 5:9?”
The tips of his dress shoes are squeezing his toes tightly. Mom says they’ll buy a new pair when the next paycheck comes in. Papi’s been working late so he can get a promotion and make it so they can buy new stuff any time.
“Edmundo,” her voice chastizes, catching his attention and making him look up from the drawing of the ark on the wall. The wall is covered in them. The colored-pencil ark has a distinct tiger and lion on the bow. Jonah, inside the belly of the whale, scribbled out in crayon. Thick marker tips had traced out the shaky corners of the cross with purple fabric flowing down.
The other kids in Sunday school are looking at him now. His mother looks exasperated. Chipped pale-pink nail polish is stark against the baby blue color of her Bible case. Eddie wonders if she’s got any peppermints in there this week or if Abuela will be the one to sneak the kids a bit of hard candy to keep them quiet during big church.
If Eddie were honest, he’d tell his mom that he hates being in her Sunday school class. It’s awkward and her being a Sunday school teacher sucks. No one wants to play with him because he might tattle to his mom that they did something wrong on the playground. It’d been easier before they’d moved. They’d watch church on TV or read the Bible together in the kitchen. Eddie wasn’t sure why they’d started doing that or why they had to stop.
Mom clears her throat. “Sorry,” Eddie mumbles as he wracks his brain for the answer. Eddie knows it has something to do with blessings. His mother always uses it when they’re being mean to each other. She makes them sit down on the couch, anger still flushing their cheeks, and she rattles off the verses to them. But he can’t remember the answer. Cindy Cherwell knows, though, and she raises her hand high. There’s a golden cross glinting around her neck, light coming in the old windows making it shine. Her blonde curls bounce as she chants, “Miss Diaz! Miss Diaz! I know it!” Sighing, Mom lets her say the verse before moving on with the lesson she’d been teaching.
Eddie remembers it just before Cindy says it, but he knows there's no point in joining in as she rattles it off.
Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.
Eddie isn’t listening after that. His feet hurt too much to listen.
El Paso, Texas
2007
“Who’s that guy?”
The words fall easily from Eddie’s lips. He’s leaning against a bleacher, Shannon texting someone furiously beside him. Her nails clack a bit against the sliding keyboard of her cellphone. If Eddie tilted his head to look at her properly, he’d see that she’d gone with neon green this week. It drove her mom crazy that she constantly changed the color, always opting for the most eye-catching one she could find in the drug store. Eddie was with her half of the time when she’d get them, doing some texting of his own or providing commentary on the more horrendous colors she picked up to show him.
He’s not going to tilt his head, though. He’s looking at the guy. It’s not a small school (it’s El Paso, after all), but people tend to flock to the same areas during lunch. Most of his baseball buddies slink down to the field to toss a ball around or shoot the shit while they eat their lunch in the dugout. Shannon’s friends on the cheer squad usually commandeer the coveted outdoor tables next to the cafeteria, the football team gladly taking the fruits of their bounty to sit with them as well. The football/soccer field, strangely, remains unclaimed. Shannon and Eddie will sometimes go with their respective groups, but they typically sit out on the bleachers, picking at the bag lunches their mothers had given them and basking in the sun until the warning bell sounds off.
The guy Eddie’s staring at is rambling on his cell phone, occasionally gesturing before running his hand through his hair. It’s a weird black color, almost as if he’d dyed it and the color was fading-
“-Eddie!” Neon green fingers smack his shoulder. He grimaces.
“Sorry, Shan.”
“You asked the damn question, don’t zone out when I answer you.” She’s chastising him, but she’s still grinning brightly. She’s used to it happening, Eddie getting wrapped up in his head. She’s his best friend. Shannon knows his head is a storm sometimes. She just grins through it.
“Anyways,” she begins, wagging her fingers in front of his face to ensure she has his attention before continuing. “Like I said. He’s new. Edward or Evan or something like that. I think he just moved here from Philly or somewhere else that’s pretty big? Kelsey was all over me to go and talk to him during homeroom because I’m from LA, and he’s from the city, so she thought we’d wanna bond or whatever.”
His brown eyes and her green ones roll at that. The amount of times she’s used free spirit to describe herself somewhat undersells the whole free-spirit title, but Eddie knows that she doesn’t want to date. Eddie had tried to kiss her once last summer when they’d snuck off from a baseball team bonfire to skip rocks at the lake. She’d gently pushed his face away, patting his cheek and declaring herself someone that couldn’t be tied down. As far as rejections go, it could’ve been worse.
“He’s a junior too?” Eddie questioned, his eyes flickering to Edward/Evan as the guy ended his call. It seems he hadn’t even noticed them before, but a set of nervous-looking eyes train on them once the newcomer glances around and spots them. Shannon pops the gum in her mouth and nods before doing something Eddie wouldn’t ever do: she waves at the guy. The dude looks like a deer in headlights. “Shan-”
“Shut up, Eds,” she tells him brightly, waving more despite the guy’s lack of reaction. “Hey!” Her voice is louder now. “You should come and sit with us!” She’s gesturing to all the space around them. The guy blinks, but Shannon’s smile is nauseatingly infectious (Eddie would know). He tentatively steps forward, and Eddie’s overactive imagination can’t shake the viewpoint of him as a deer. The deer is slowly moving towards the headlights of a stopped car. The clack of sneakers against the bleachers isn’t unlike the sound of hooves against asphalt road.
Shannon is bumping her shoulder into him to make sure he doesn’t go too far into his head again as the stranger finally comes to a stop. The stranger was standing awkwardly in front of them, and his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. He must be from up north if he’s wearing jeans in the September heat in Texas , Eddie thinks to himself, glad the guy at least had the sense to wear a short-sleeved shirt. “Hi, I’m Shannon Kelly.” God, she’s reaching out to shake his hand, which means Eddie is now rubbing his sweaty palm against his shorts so he can do the same.
“Evan Buckley,” the now-not stranger replies, shaking her hand after briefly blinking at the gesture. His accent isn’t strong, but there’s a hint of something there that makes Eddie think Shannon’s Philly answer for the guy’s hometown isn’t a terrible guess.
“Eddie Diaz,” Eddie offers, extending his hand as Shannon had done. The guy has a firm handshake that Eddie’s pretty sure his dad would nod at it. “You’re new, right?”
The guy, Evan, nods in response. He finally takes a seat on the bleacher row below them, turning to look at them. Something in his posture tells Eddie it wouldn’t take much for the guy to tuck tail and run. “Yeah. I’m from Pennsylvania. Hershey, actually, where the amusement park and stuff is? We just moved in over the weekend and it took them a few days to get all of my stuff sent from my old school, so I couldn’t start Monday - “ The guy seems to cut himself off. It seems like he thinks that he’s not allowed to ramble on. Shannon is all smiles and she nods, reaching out to pat Evan’s shoulder.
“I moved here from LA freshman year. Everyone’s pretty nice, save some of them,” she explains with a grin, playfully bumping into Eddie and pulling another eye roll out of him. “Eds was the poor soul who had to show me around the first day and he’s never been able to shake me since.” Evan seems enraptured, nodding and glancing away from Shannon to Eddie. They meet eyes and something in Eddie’s stomach clenches. He chalks it up to being uncomfortable when meeting new people. He’d almost thrown up when they’d made him dance with some random girl in Adriana’s class at her quinceañera.
“Are you from here?” Evan asks him, turning more squarely towards them. Less likely to run, like a stray cat approaching a plate of food.
“More or less. Born in Texas and never left.” A bit of the accent slips out this time. Eddie usually tries to keep it in check. He does it for two reasons: one, to avoid Shannon’s teasing, and two, to avoid his mother's looks. It was something so unique to his parents to get annoyed with him for picking up the accent of a place they’d raised him in. Y’all and ain’t sound ignorant, Edmundo. You are not ignorant. Evan doesn’t seem to mind it, though, only giving him a shy smile and nodding.
Shannon pipes up again. “Hey, Eds, you know what I just realized? We have to give him a nickname.” Eddie raises an eyebrow at her, a silent question of why? “One of the guys on the baseball is also named Evan - Evan Lockheart. He’s an asshole, honestly. He’s hit Eds with a ball in practice before, which was totally on purpose.” Lockheart is an asshole, but Eddie just shrugs like he always does. It happened. He’s moved on. He avoids that particular Evan and moves on with his life. The new Evan seems to be struggling to find a name to offer up, so Eddie gives the first one that comes to mind.
“Buck.” Shannon raises an eyebrow this time.
“Like a deer?”
“I mean, I guess?” The deer in headlights flashes in his mind again, and yeah, it’s why he said the nickname. Lucky for him, this is an easy save. “It’s his last name, mainly. Buckley. Shorten it. Buck.”
Evan seems to consider it before he tries it out. “Buck. Buck Buckley,” he sounds out, unable to stop himself from laughing. The absurdity of it makes Shannon laugh as well, and soon, all three of them are shaking with laughter at the idea of someone named Buck Buckley.
Buck wipes at his eyes when the laughs subside and he starts nodding. “I like it. Anything to detach me from an asshole,” he grins. This smile seems genuine. His teeth are nice. Is that a weird thought to have about someone? Eddie isn’t sure. But, still. They’re nice teeth.
The warning bell sounds off. “Alright, come on, boys. We need to pour over Buck’s schedule to tell him which teachers suck and which ones..suck less, but we can walk and talk.” They all rise. Their walking order forms once they’re on the field. Shannon on his right, Buck on his left, Eddie sandwiched in the middle as they walk up the path to the school doors.
That clench in Eddie’s stomach is back when Buck’s shoulder bumps his as they walk. His shoulder feels warm. A butterfly rests on the back of the deer.
Eddie wipes the image clean and thinks about trigonometry.