Cemetery Boys(41)

“Dude, are you okay?”

Yadriel glared up at him.

“I’d offer you a hand, but…” Julian let out another chuckle.

“Glad to see my pain puts you in such a good mood,” Yadriel griped as he pushed himself back onto his feet.

“Did you hurt anything?”

“Just my dignity.” He dusted off his pants and turned to see what he had tripped over. A stack of milk crates had been knocked over and large bunches of marigolds lay scattered across the ground. Tiny orange petals were everywhere.

“Uh-oh,” Julian said, stepping behind Yadriel.

“My cempasúchitl!” Tito fumed as he stomped over. The air around his translucent body rippled like heat waves. He looked down at his beloved flowers and got on his knees, gingerly gathering the bouquets into his arms.

“I’m so sorry, Tito!” Yadriel apologized. “Here, let me help!” He bent down to pick up one of the crates, but Tito shooed him away.

“No! Don’t touch!” His round, tanned face pinched into a glower, his eyes cutting back and forth between Yadriel and Julian. “Troublemakers!” he barked, wagging a finger at them.

“I’m sorry, Tito.” Yadriel cringed. He knew how hard Tito worked on his marigolds all year round to make sure they were perfect for Día de Muertos. “We were just, uh—”

Tito’s attention swung to Julian who shrank back a step, shoulders hunching up to his ears, a painfully guilty smile on his face.

“Uh, this is…” Yadriel trailed off, not knowing what to say. Certainly not the truth. What if Tito told Yadriel’s dad that he and a spirit boy had ruined some of his marigolds? He did not need his dad getting suspicious or asking questions. He could just lie and say Julian was a new spirit in the cemetery, right? That wouldn’t need much explanation, would it? “This is— He’s just,” Yadriel blabbered, trying to put a coherent sentence together. Tito’s eyes narrowed. “He’s—”

Tito held up his hand, cutting him off. “I don’t want to know! Take your trouble and go!” he snapped before going back to picking up his marigolds, murmuring words of comfort to them in Spanish.

Yadriel certainly wasn’t going to argue with him, so he raced to the house, Julian right on his heels.

“Do you think he’s gonna tell on us?” Julian asked as they got to the door.

“I hope not,” Yadriel said, jumping to get a peek through the window in the door. He didn’t hear anyone inside or see any movement behind the curtains. “Tito tends to mind his own business.”

“You did mess up his flowers, though,” Julian pointed out, giving Yadriel a disapproving shake of his head.

“It’s not like I did it on purpose!” he hissed back. He didn’t smell any food cooking, either, which was a good sign. Yadriel pushed the front door open and poked his head in.

“Hello?” he called. “Anyone home?” he strained his ears, listening for a response or a creak of floorboards, but the house was silent.

At least one thing was going right today.

Yadriel led the way up the stairs and to his room, shutting the door behind them. Immediately, he went to his bedside table. He yanked open the drawer, dug out the wadded-up T-shirt, and took out his portaje. It was still there, undiscovered and untouched. He sat heavily on the edge of the mattress and clutched the dagger to his chest and let out a sigh of relief.

His secret was still safe.

“How long we gotta wait for Maritza?” Julian asked, arms crossed, looking impatient.

“As soon as she’s done talking her parents into letting her out,” Yadriel told him as he slipped his portaje into the sheath at his hip. “Don’t worry, she can talk her way out of pretty much everything.”

Julian let out a frustrated grunt and flopped back onto the bed next to him.

For a moment, Yadriel considered Julian as he scowled up at the ceiling, expecting to see the ebb and flow of emotions that seemed to pass so fluidly across his face almost constantly, but, right now, he just seemed so … tired. There were shadows darkening the delicate brown skin under his eyes. Yadriel wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light, but he almost looked paler. No, “pale” wasn’t the right word, just less solid? Untouchable.

“I just want to find my friends,” Julian finally said.

Yadriel felt a little guilty. For the most part, Julian had done everything asked of him so far, but Yadriel still hadn’t held up his part of the bargain. Julian was upset, and Yadriel wanted to make him feel better, but in the moment, he didn’t know how.

Maybe a distraction was his best bet.

“Why don’t you show me what they look like,” Yadriel said, picking up his yearbook where it had been left on the floor.

Usually, his family couldn’t afford a yearbook. His sophomore year was the first time his dad had bought him one, even though they were hard up for cash without the income from his mom’s nursing job. On top of being the leader of the brujx, his dad also worked as an independent contractor to make ends meet. Most of his employees were other brujos, but projects were sometimes few and far between. It was the brujas, working as doctors, doulas, nurses, and psychologists, who were the financial heads of the households.

Even so, his dad had somehow scrounged up the fifty dollars it cost to buy a yearbook. Yadriel brushed his fingers over the glossy pages.