Yadriel raced down the stairs as fast as his feet could carry him, combat boots clomping all the way. Julian stormed off ahead, with no sign of slowing down. The chain-link gate rattled as he blew through.
“Come on.” He waved at Maritza. “We gotta go.”
Maritza met Yadriel at the bottom of the stairs. “What the heck happened?” she asked, her head snapping back and forth between him and Julian’s retreating back. Michelangelo whined anxiously. Meanwhile, Donatello merrily chewed on something that might’ve been a crumpled plastic bottle. “Sounds like it didn’t go well.”
“It didn’t,” Yadriel agreed as they rounded the building.
A few heads turned when Julian cut through the busy lot, a sharp gust of wind following him.
A woman gasped and punched the arm of the man standing next to her. “Did you see that?” she asked, pointing right where Julian had passed. Undoubtedly, she’d seen the shirt in his hands floating off on its own.
The man laughed. “Those Santa Ana winds are crazy,” he said, shaking his head.
Yadriel quickened his pace, filling in Maritza as they chased after Julian. His stomach twisted, sick with guilt as he remembered the looks on Luca’s and Rio’s faces. Yadriel wasn’t sure if Luca fully believed him about Julian’s being dead, let alone being a ghost. Either way, he’d definitely freaked Luca out.
He hadn’t meant to upset them, but he couldn’t help himself. The way Rio had been so dismissive and just so wrong about Julian, how was he supposed to just let him keep going? Especially when Julian was standing right there, listening to all of it and unable to defend himself. How could Rio think so little of Julian? Was that how he really felt? What he really thought? Or was he just acting out because he was hurt?
The Diaz brothers seemed to have trouble processing their emotions.
Julian stomped down the street.
“Julian!” Yadriel hissed, trying to keep up.
The shirt hung from Julian’s fist, whipping around wildly. Santa Ana winds were a flimsy cover, at best. If they weren’t careful, they were going to catch someone’s attention. That was the last thing they needed right now.
“Wait up!”
Julian turned, disappearing behind an old church.
Yadriel, Maritza, and the dogs ran to catch up. When they found him, Julian was pacing back and forth in front of the entrance to the church like a caged animal. Rusty grates of filigree and crosses sealed off the doors and windows. An angry, frigid wind kicked up dirt and debris around him. His expression was severe and frustrated, the muscles in his jaw tight and his nostrils flared.
Maritza hung back. Donatello whined and Michelangelo shook himself out nervously. She cut Yadriel a wary look.
Her words from earlier needled into Yadriel’s head.
He won’t be Julian anymore.
But this wasn’t Julian losing grip on himself and slipping toward turning maligno. Yadriel knew that.
“Julian—” Yadriel reached out for him, even though he knew he’d be nothing more than frost on his fingertips.
But Julian jerked away. “DON’T.”
So Yadriel didn’t.
Instead, he watched, cautiously. He didn’t try to move closer, but he didn’t retreat, either. Gently, he tried, “Hey, you—”
“I know, I know, I know!” Julian growled impatiently. “You’ll flush me down the toilet!”
Maritza gave Yadriel a startled look.
A blush swept up the back of his neck and across his face. “I’m not—”
“Just give me a second!” Julian dropped into a squat and pressed his shirt against his face. Framed under the arch of the gated doors, the fluorescent lights spilled yellow across the steps of the church, but it didn’t quite touch Julian. There was a saint painted on the cement wall above him. A faceless man in a black robe with a white rope tied around his waist. In his right hand, he held a skull. In the left, a crucifix. Colorful swirls of paint spiraled out around him.
Yadriel’s chest ached, but all he could do was stand back and give Julian space as he warred with himself.
Julian’s back rose as he gulped down air. Slowly, the wind settled.
He drew in a deep breath and exhaled it through pursed lips. When he stood up and faced Yadriel, his cheeks were splotchy, his edges watery. He dragged his fist across his eyes before finally letting his hands fall to his sides.
Yadriel wrapped his arms around himself. “Are you okay?”
Julian’s laugh was forced. “Jesus,” he sniffed, looking anywhere but at Yadriel. “Can we not talk about feelings right now?”
“I don’t think Rio meant all that,” Yadriel continued, joining Julian on the step. “He’s just hurt. I mean, you could see that, right?”
Staring at the ground, Julian didn’t look so sure. “I didn’t mean that shit I said to him,” he mumbled. His finger moved to his throat, searching for something that wasn’t there. He glanced over to where his necklace hung around Yadriel’s neck. “I just got so mad!” He shook his head, jaw clenched.
“He’ll understand, he’ll—”
Julian’s eyes snapped to his.
“He’ll what, Yads?” he demanded. “Forgive me? Talk it out? Welcome me back?” Julian clutched at his chest, balling up his T-shirt in his fist. “I’m dead.”
Yadriel snapped his mouth shut. A shiver rolled through him. “We can figure something out,” he offered, having no idea what. He didn’t want to see Julian like this, and he didn’t want Rio going the rest of his life thinking his brother had abandoned him.
Julian was already shaking his head.
“Maybe I could try talking to him again?” Yadriel offered, scratching at the prickle on the back of his neck.
“No,” Julian said. The anger in his voice was quickly weighing down with exhaustion. “It’s better that he just thinks I ran away,” he repeated for the umpteenth time. “It’s easier this way.”
Maybe it was easier, but it didn’t feel right. Yadriel wanted to argue, but this wasn’t his family. This wasn’t his choice. “I’ll do what you think is best,” Yadriel conceded.
Julian looked at him, eyes dark and calculating.
“Hate to interrupt…” Yadriel had nearly forgotten Maritza was still there until she stepped forward. Donatello and Michelangelo were two unmovable boulders at her sides, lying on the cement and looking thoroughly unperturbed. “But it’s getting late,” she said, still giving Julian a wide berth. “And my phone says it might start raining soon.”
They all tipped their heads back to stare up at the sky. Heavy, dark clouds were creeping in, chasing away the afternoon sun.
“The dogs aren’t really good at this whole tracking thing to begin with,” Maritza pointed out. Donatello and Michelangelo stared up at her, tongues happily lolling out of their mouths. “It’s already been a couple days, and if it rains…”
“Then there will be no way for them to pick up the scent,” Yadriel finished.
Maritza nodded, giving Julian a nervous glance.
After the mess he’d made, Yadriel didn’t expect Julian to want to continue with their plan. He didn’t want to tell his brother or his friends that he’d died, so what reason did he have to help them find his body?
“Take it.” Julian stepped forward and pushed his shirt into Yadriel’s hands.
The material was worn soft and there was a hole in the shoulder. He got a small whiff of musky cologne and the faint sting of gasoline.
Julian brushed past them and started walking down the sidewalk.
Yadriel’s heart dropped to his feet. He gripped the shirt tightly and turned to Maritza. A look of defeat crossed her face, and panic rose in Yadriel’s throat. He wanted to call out and tell Julian to stop, that—
Julian glanced back at them over his shoulder. He frowned. “Don’t we need to hurry?” he asked, sounding annoyed. “Come on.” He jerked his chin. “The park is this way.”
Yadriel stared at him.
Maritza let out a loud, relieved breath.
Julian looked between them, brow furrowed. “What?”
“I—I thought—” Yadriel stammered.
“Jesus, Yads,” he sighed in exasperation with a grand roll of his eyes. “We’ve still got your cousin to find, right?”
Yadriel could only bob his head in a nod.
An amused grin tugged at the corner of Julian’s lips. “So let’s go,” he said, waving them on. “Before the rain wipes out any chance Tweedledee and Tweedledum got.”
Maritza gasped. “Don’t you dare call them that!”
Julian chuckled.
“You’re the dumb one,” she said, starting after Julian, Donatello and Michelangelo obediently following along.
Gratitude flooded Yadriel with warmth. He wanted to stop Julian and thank him, truly and genuinely, but he could picture his reaction in his head.
Can we not talk about feelings right now?
Instead, he clutched the shirt tightly to his chest and chased after Maritza and Julian as they continued to bicker down the street.
Belvedere Park was made up of two parts. The north side was the community park, which had a public pool, a skate park, and sports fields. The south side had a man-made lake. The 60 freeway cut through the middle. There was a pedestrian bridge that you could take over the freeway that connected the north to the south. Julian took them to the south end, where the pedestrian bridge bottomed out at a small parking lot.