Cemetery Boys(40)

“Save them for me to zap in the microwave when I get home!” Maritza told her.

“I make you tamales from scratch and you’re just going to microwave them later?” Tía Sofia demanded, clutching her heart. “And last night you missed out on your papa’s diri ak djon djon! He even made it without shrimp!”

“We got stuff to do, we’re not staying for dinner,” Maritza explained.

Tía Sofia huffed before waving her hand dismissively at her daughter.

“Oh yeah, what kind of stuff?” Paola asked.

Yadriel could tell by the looks the sisters exchanged that this wasn’t going to go well.

“Just to go hang out, nosy! Mom, where’s my rain jacket?”

“Esta allí,” she said, waving toward the living room.

“That’s not helpful!”

“I don’t think you two should be going off on your own after school,” Tío Isaac said, his large form filling up the doorframe as he wiped off his hands on a rag.

“Your papá is right,” Tía Sofia agreed. “It’s too dangerous, especially after Miguel—” Unable to finish her sentence, she crossed herself.

Yadriel’s stomach twisted into knots. “We still haven’t found anything?” he asked.

Tío Isaac shook his head solemnly. “Not yet.”

Yadriel just didn’t get it. How was that possible?

“Not to mention”—Tía Sofia propped her fist on one hip and shook her spoon at her youngest daughter—“you still haven’t tried on the dress I got you for your aquelarre, and you said you’d take those colors out of your hair before Día de Muertos, too!”

Yadriel shot Maritza a hard stare. They needed to find Julian’s friends, get answers that would satisfy the stubborn spirit, and wrap this whole thing up before Día de Muertos.

Maritza nodded, reading his look loud and clear. “Ugh, you guys!” she whined. “I’ll try on the dress later, and I definitely never said I’d re-dye my hair—”

Tía Sofia opened her mouth to argue, but Maritza cut her off.

“I said I’d think about it, and I thought about it, and I decided not to.”

Yadriel pinched the bridge of his nose. Arguing with her mom about dresses and hair was definitely not going to put Maritza’s mom in a lenient mood. “Maritza,” he hissed.

Maritza looked at him like she’d completely forgotten that he was there and what the real matter at hand was. “And the sun’s still up until like six!” she argued, getting back on track. She paused for a second and then walked her fingers toward one of the blades on the kitchen table. “I guess if we had a couple of these to defend ourselves—”

“No!” her parents answered in unison.

“They could take the boys?” Tío Isaac suggested, looking to his wife.

Maritza’s eyes went wide. “Dad, no—”

Tía Sofia nodded in agreement. “Yes, mi amor!”

Yadriel always liked how a Puerto Rican accent turned soft r’s into l’s, so it sounded like mi amol.

“I like that idea!”

“Mom!”

Paola snorted a laugh.

Maritza growled and spun to Yadriel. “You go home and grab—uh—your stuff. I’ll meet you there.” With that, she turned back to her parents, fists firmly planted on her hips. “I’M NOT TAKING THEM WITH US! THEY ONLY GET IN THE WAY! AND THEY SMELL!”

Yadriel slipped out of the kitchen before it was too late.

Outside, Julian was right where he’d left him, leaning against the van and looking bored.

“Where’s Maritza?” he asked, glancing back toward the house where Yadriel could still hear arguing.

“Uh, she got a little tied up,” Yadriel told him. Julian looked amused. “Come on, she’ll meet us back at the house.”

Worry dug under Yadriel’s skin. If Maritza’s parents were any indicator, they were going to have a hell of a time sneaking out after school. As a whole, Yadriel’s dad didn’t like him out on the streets after the streetlights came on, but now? The adults were bound to instate a curfew after what had happened to Miguel, especially because they still didn’t know what happened. It seemed like just a matter of time.

Not to mention, it was the end of October, which meant the sun was setting earlier. They had only a handful of hours to work with.

He led the way around the corner and across the street to the cemetery. He checked to make sure the coast was clear before they slipped through the gate. There weren’t any brujx between the front gate and his house, though he could see a couple of figures off in the distance tending to the graves.

“Let’s go,” Yadriel said to Julian, keeping an eye on the brujx as he waved him forward and picked up the pace. “Before someone—”

“Wait, Yads!” Julian’s hand shot out, in an attempt to grab him, but, of course, it went right through his shoulder, hitting him with a shock of cold.

The next second, Yadriel ran into something. The crash sent him stumbling, and he landed on his back, knocking the wind out of him. Around him, things clattered. Yadriel groaned.

He looked up, and Julian was standing over him, his hand clamped over his mouth as he laughed.