Cemetery Boys(90)

“Who are the pictures of?” Yadriel asked, rolling onto his side and leaning his cheek against his fist.

“Pictures?”

“Yeah.” Yadriel jerked his chin toward the pocket on the dashboard. “In the car.”

“Oh!” Julian slid off the hood and leaned in through the open window. There was some rustling and then he was back, scooting up next to Yadriel.

“Just old pictures of us and our dad.”

Yadriel sat up. They sat cross-legged, facing each other.

“That’s him,” Julian said, holding the picture for Yadriel to see. Yadriel had never heard him speak with such gentle warmth.

Julian’s dad stood in the center of the photo. He was tall and lean with a buzzed head and some sparse facial hair. His eyes squinted as he flashed his teeth at the camera, somewhere between a laugh and a growl. He held up Julian and Rio under each arm, flexing his strength in front of what Yadriel recognized as the mechanic shop.

“He looks nice,” Yadriel said, unable to keep from smiling.

“He was,” Julian agreed, beaming.

“What’s his name?”

“Ramon,” Julian told him, his tongue rolling through the r.

Julian couldn’t have been older than ten. He was doubled over, knees tucked and gripping his dad’s arm as he was held aloft, laughing hard. It was possible Ramon was tickling him, his large hand across Julian’s chest, his fingers pressed into that sensitive spot under the collarbone.

“Oh man.” Yadriel laughed. “Look at your hair!” Instead of being shaved down, younger Julian’s hair was a mass of unruly, tight curls.

“Photogenic as hell, right?” Julian grinned. “Rio’s always been a bit camera shy.”

Rio was held under his dad’s other arm. He was smiling, but his lips were pressed together. He clung to his dad’s shoulder, his face partially turned away from the camera and toward Ramon’s chest.

Yadriel took the stack of photos and thumbed through the rest. One was of Ramon and Rio leaning over the popped hood of an old Cadillac. Ramon was pointing at something, and Rio’s face was very serious, studious. Meanwhile, Julian was off to the side, scooting around on one of those wooden creepers mechanics used to get under cars.

There were some school pictures, too. Rio sat with a straight back, another tight-lipped smile, and a tie done neatly around his neck. In contrast, Julian’s eyes were squinted shut and he was smiling in a way that looked like he was trying to show all his teeth at once. His tie was loose and crooked, the left side of his collar sticking up.

In another photo, they sat in a line on the curb. Julian and Rio sat between Ramon and Carlos—the man Julian had said owned the shop with his father. Ramon sat next to Rio, grinning at the camera while Rio smiled up at him. Carlos was on the other side, a finger hooked over his chin as it jutted forward, mean-mugging the camera. He leaned onto Julian, who bent under the weight of his arm, laughing as he tried to push him off.

Yadriel stared at the boy sitting next to him. A boy with a bright smile and an easy laugh. Who liked skateboarding the streets of Los Angeles and stargazing on the roof of his dad’s car. Who would do anything to protect his friends. Reckless and brilliant.

The aching in Yadriel threatened to swallow him whole. Julian was still there, but Yadriel’s body was already mourning the loss.

But he knew this wasn’t sustainable. No one was meant to last as a spirit floating between two worlds, but especially not Julian. He was a boy made of fire who’d been turned to frost. He was meant to burn.

“This isn’t how I would’ve pictured someone wanting to spend their last day,” Yadriel said, fiddling with Julian’s medal around his neck. “But it’s very … you.”

Julian cast him a narrow-eyed look. “Uh, thanks?”

“I just mean, I feel like most people would want to spend it with their families and friends.” Yadriel thought about how, when someone got sick or grew old, when they neared the end of their lives, their community would come together. Friends and loved ones would stay close, keeping watch over the person. Brujas would offer them comfort and ease their pain. Everyone was there to give their support, to send them off to the afterlife surrounded by their loved ones.

“That sounds so depressing and boring.” Julian frowned. “Not to mention, none of them can see or hear me. I’m already dead.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Is that how you would want to spend your last day?” Julian asked. “With your dad and brother? Your Lita? Hell, the whole group of brujx?”

“God, no” was Yadriel’s immediate response, surprising even himself. That sounded like a nightmare. Yadriel hated being the center of attention, even under the best of circumstances. Even his birthday felt like an ordeal. “Maybe you’ve got the right idea.” He looked out over the cliff. Frothy waves broke up and down the beach, as far as he could see. A gust of ocean air pushed through his hair. Yadriel smiled and breathed it in. “Stealing a car and driving off into the sunset is way better.”

“I’m enjoying it.”

“Is there anything you regret?” Yadriel’s stomach twisted. A voice in his head told him to stop asking questions. That stuff like this would only upset him. He wasn’t used to death being such a finality.

But then Julian grinned. “Regret?” Giving a small shake of his head, he leaned closer. “Tch, no way,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, like he was telling Yadriel a secret.