Cemetery Boys(23)

“I already texted her—said you needed some moral support after getting into a fight with your pops.”

Yadriel frowned. “Oh, thanks.”

“No problem,” she said, smiling at his sarcasm. “Besides, you suck at this sneaking-and-lying thing. If anyone is going to get Casper into your room without getting caught—”

“I’m standing right here!” Julian chimed in.

“—it’s me.”

“How are we supposed to get him inside without Lita seeing?” Yadriel asked, anxiety lighting his already frayed nerves on fire.

Maritza wiggled her fingers. “Sneakily.” When Yadriel glared at her, she dropped her hands to her sides. “It’s late, your Lita is probably passed out in front of the TV watching Telemundo,” Maritza pointed out.

Julian, apparently having gotten bored with the conversation, had wandered over to a headstone and was trying to pick up a marigold laid across it with no success.

Maritza had a point, but there were still other factors to consider. “Okay, yeah, they’re out looking for Miguel right now, but eventually they’re going to come home, and then what are we going to do?”

“Whoa, one step at a time, Yads!” Maritza told him. “Let’s just get him upstairs first. We’ll deal with tomorrow, tomorrow.”

Julian wandered back, looking equally doubtful. “So I’m staying with her?” he asked, hooking his thumb toward Yadriel.

“Him,” Yadriel and Maritza corrected in unison.

Julian’s brow furrowed. “Him?” He blinked at Yadriel, as if clearing his vision.

Yadriel’s skin grew hot under the scrutiny. He stood straighter, taller. His sweaty palms clenched into fists at his sides. The muscles in his body went taut as he lifted his chin in what he hoped was a look of stubborn determination.

Maritza crossed her arms over her chest, eyebrow arching. “Is that gonna be a problem?”

When Julian didn’t respond fast enough, Maritza snapped her fingers.

Julian’s attention swung back to her. “No,” he said, face screwed up in a way that suggested both confusion and offense.

“Perfect.” Maritza turned to Yadriel with a cheery smile. “Let’s go!” she said before heading for the house.

Yadriel scrubbed his hands over his face. How had he gotten himself into such a huge mess in such a short amount of time? Exhaustion plowed into him like a truck.

Next to him, Julian cleared his throat. “So, uh…” Julian rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, glancing around. “Where’s your house?”

Yadriel sighed and followed Maritza down the path flanked by squat mausoleums. “There,” he said, nodding to the church looming in the distance. “We live in the little house next to the church.” Smoke still billowed from the crooked chimney.

“Yo, you live in a graveyard?” Julian asked in bewilderment.

Yadriel shifted the weight of his backpack. He was used to the strange looks and laughs that came when people at school found out he was the weird kid who lived in a cemetery. Throw in being openly trans, and he was very used to stares and jokes. “Yeah,” he said, anticipating a similar reaction.

Instead, a wicked grin curled Julian’s lips. “Sick,” he said, nodding his approval.

A surprised laugh jumped in Yadriel’s chest. He gave Julian a curious look, studying his profile as he stared ahead at the church. He had a heavy brow and a sloping nose that ran in a straight line from his forehead. Classically handsome. He looked just like the stone statues that adorned the alcoves of the church. An Aztec warrior reincarnated.

When Julian caught him watching, Yadriel quickly looked away.

“Oh!” Julian said, as if suddenly remembering something. “You’ve got food, right?” he asked. “’Cause I wasn’t joking about being hungry.”

Yadriel huffed an irritated sigh. “Gotta get you past my abuelita first.” He gestured for Julian to follow. “But she’s been cooking all day.”

“Homemade food by your grandma?” Julian burst out, unable to contain himself.

“Sssh!”

“Oh—” He dropped his voice. “Sorry.”

He moved closer to Yadriel. A chill tickled the back of his neck.

“Wait, can ghosts eat food?” Julian asked in his ear, very concerned.

Santa Muerte, help me.





FIVE


Yadriel crept up the steps, Maritza and Julian following close behind. Blue light flickered against the lace drapes of the front window.

At least Yadriel knew his dad was still out, which was a relief, and not just because Yadriel was about to sneak a spirit into the house right under his nose. After their blowup earlier, Yadriel still wasn’t ready to face him. His stomach twisted thinking about his dad’s inevitable attempt at an awkward apology.

Julian was actually a welcome distraction, and an excuse to avoid his family altogether.

Said dead boy was currently wandering the front porch and getting way too close to the windows, apparently without a care in the world. Julian reached for the wind chime hanging from the awning, his fingers going right through the pieces of polished glass.

“Hey! Get over here!” Yadriel hissed, waving him back.

On her tiptoes, Maritza was able to see through the small window cut into the top of the front door. “She’s sleeping,” she said with a smug look. “Told you.”