“That’s Rocky,” Julian said.
Rocky, or, rather, Raquel Ramos, was a pretty girl with a high, sleek ponytail and striking features. She had a septum piercing and a bored expression. He vaguely recognized her but couldn’t say for certain, which wasn’t a rarity when you went to a high school with thousands of students.
Julian’s mouth quirked into a lopsided grin.
Yadriel glanced between him and the photo. “She’s pretty,” he said, without really knowing why. He shifted. “She your girlfriend or something?” he asked in his best casual tone.
Julian snorted. “No.” He leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows. “I don’t do girlfriends.”
Yadriel rolled his eyes and scoffed. “What? Because you’re some kind of mujeriego, or something? Too many ladies to pick just one?” he asked with a flare of annoyance.
“No.” Julian’s tone was cross, eyes still on the page. “Because I’m gay, asshole.”
Yadriel blinked. He … hadn’t expected that. He stared at Julian. “Oh.” His mind raced to place this new information with the boy sitting next to him.
Julian glanced up. “That a problem?” he asked with a hard stare and a cocked eyebrow.
“Uh—no, no, that’s not a problem.” Heat bloomed in Yadriel’s cheeks.
“And so is Rocky,” Julian went on nonchalantly. “So we cancel each other out.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “Queer folks are like wolves,” Julian told him. “We travel in packs.”
“I—I am, too. I mean—” Yadriel cleared his throat. “I’m into guys.” His chest tightened as he waited for Julian’s response.
But Julian only blinked slowly at him, as if waiting for Yadriel to reveal something more interesting. “Cool,” he said, after Yadriel didn’t offer anything else.
Julian nodded to the yearbook. “Luca Garcia.”
Yadriel wasn’t sure if he was relieved or annoyed by Julian’s nonchalance.
He cleared his throat again and flipped through the pages, trying to ignore the fluttering in his chest. He stole a couple of glances over at Julian. He’d said it so … “casually” wasn’t the right word, but maybe “easily” was. Whenever Yadriel came out to anyone, it was always an ordeal that he overthought and dragged out. It was nerve-racking, waiting to see someone’s reaction, whether they would reject him, or even understand what it meant when a trans boy said he was gay.
But not for Julian. He’d said it as almost a challenge. In a way that said he didn’t care what you thought.
It was both intimidating and impressive.
Yadriel found Luca Garcia, but instead of a photograph, it was just a black box with the words “NO PHOTO AVAILABLE” across in white.
“Oh.” Julian frowned at the blank picture. “He wasn’t there that day, I forgot. He was, uh, home sick.” He said it quickly and avoided making eye contact.
Yadriel raised an eyebrow at him, and red tinged Julian’s cheeks. He was clearly lying, but Yadriel didn’t get why. Seemed like an insignificant thing to lie about.
“Go to Omar’s,” Julian said, waving his hand at Yadriel to turn the page. “He was there. Omar Deye.”
Yadriel was tempted to push him for answers, but instead he shook his head and turned to the beginning of the D’s.
“He seems…” Yadriel trailed off.
“Like a jerk?” Julian chuckled. “Yeah, I know,” he said, with a tone of fondness and a smile back on his face.
Omar Deye sat rigid in his photo, back straight and chin jutted, looking down at the camera with contempt. He had dark skin, a tight fade, and a brooding expression. The muscles in his jaw were flexed, like he was clenching his teeth.
“He’s all bite and no bark,” Julian added, shaking his head.
“You mean ‘all bark and no bite,’” Yadriel corrected. A familiar face caught his attention. “And there you are,” he said, pressing his finger to the words “Julian Diaz.”
Julian wore the same old leather bomber jacket with the hood. There was a huge smile on his face, cutting dimples into his cheeks and crinkling his nose and the corner of his eyes. He was looking past the camera and, judging by his blurry edges, mid-laugh.
It was the kind of face you couldn’t help but smile back at.
“Hey, you makin’ fun of me?” Julian accused, but he was grinning, too.
“No!” Laughter bucked in Yadriel’s chest. “You just look—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah! Let’s look and see if yours is any better!” Julian demanded, gesturing for him to turn the page.
The laughter died in Yadriel’s throat immediately. He snapped the yearbook shut. “Let’s not.” He crossed the room and shoved the book back into its place on the shelf.
Julian remained where he sat, his brow pinched and his laughter uneasy, confused by Yadriel’s abrupt departure.
The truth was Yadriel didn’t want to show Julian his yearbook picture because it did not read Yadriel Vélez Flores. Without legally changing his name—which took time and money—the school refused to use his real name, forever embossing his deadname under his painfully awkward photograph.
As if on cue, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
We’re outside.
Julian perked up. “Now?”
“Yup.” Yadriel grinned. “Come on, let’s—” When he opened the door, voices and the smell of food cooking wafted from downstairs. “Dammit,” he hissed. “Lita’s back.” He could hear her voice loudest among the rest, as usual.
Julian made a disgruntled groan.
“Just hold on a second,” Yadriel told him before slipping out the door. Carefully, he crept down the first few steps to get a view of what was going on downstairs. Lita was bossing around three other brujas as they carried boxes of supplies into the kitchen.
Annoyed, Yadriel pulled out his phone and texted Maritza, asking her to come help sneak Julian out.
Can’t. The boys aren’t allowed inside, remember?
“Dammit.” He was going to have to figure it out himself, then. Create a distraction so Julian could sneak out the front door unnoticed. Yadriel slipped back into his room. “Okay, we’re going to—”
Julian jumped. The yearbook was in his lap and he shut it quickly with a snap.
“What are you doing?” Yadriel demanded.
Julian blinked. “What?”
“What are you—?”
“Nothing!” The wide-eyed look on his face, accompanied by rosy cheeks, was so guilty that it was almost comical. “Look!” Julian said, jumping to change the subject as he haphazardly opened and closed the cover.
Yadriel’s face screwed up in confusion.
“I can pick it up and move it!” Julian told him, flashing a smile.
“Oookay.” Yadriel stepped closer. “Why are you—?”
Julian quickly stood up from the bed, tossing the yearbook to the side. A Sharpie fell through his lap. “Maritza’s waiting for us, right? Come on,” he said, making for the door. “Time to sneak out and go find my friends,” Julian told him as he walked out into the hall.
Yadriel shook his head and picked up the yearbook. Before putting it away, he flipped it open to his picture. His own face looked up at him, smiling in a way that made him look like he was in physical pain. He wore the same black hoodie, his hair carefully styled.
He was about to snap it shut when he noticed.
Beneath his photo, his deadname had been scribbled out with black marker. Under, written in lopsided letters, it read, YADRIEL.
NINE
“I can just jump out the window,” Julian suggested as they stood at the top of the stairs, trying to come up with a plan.
Yadriel spun to face him. “What?” he said, giving Julian a bewildered look as he toyed with the St. Jude pendant.
Julian stared at it, his fingers brushing the same spot on himself.
“You’re not serious,” Yadriel said.
Julian rolled his eyes before locking them onto Yadriel’s. “What’s it gonna do, kill me?”
“I think a bigger problem would be people seeing a body falling out the window.”
“Then you come up with something!”
“Shh!” Yadriel paused to listen, but the chatter continued downstairs, undisturbed. “As tempting as it is to throw you out the window—”
Julian’s mouth flew open, but Yadriel cut him off. “I think the best option is to just walk out the front door.”
“You just said we can’t let anyone see me—”
“Right, so we’ve got to be sneaky about it.” Yadriel huffed a breath in an attempt to steady his nerves. “I’ll go into the kitchen and distract them, and you sneak out the door, okay?”
Julian looked doubtful, but he bobbed his head in a nod.
“Stay close,” he said as they slowly moved down the stairs. A shiver rolled through Yadriel, like icy fingers trailing up his spine.
Julian’s voice said in his ear, a cool breeze ghosting against his neck, “You got it, patrón.”
Maybe that was too close.
They went down the stairs, and Julian pressed himself against the wall next to the entryway to the kitchen. Yadriel cut him a glance before walking into the kitchen.