They headed for the beach, but that meant cutting through Los Angeles first. The traffic did little to calm Yadriel’s nerves. He kept checking the mirrors, convinced that any second blue-and-red lights would flash in their reflection.
Julian wasn’t helping. He practically vibrated with barely contained excitement next to Yadriel, impatient and constantly shifting. He reached forward and turned the music back on, filling the car with thumping bass.
Yadriel cringed and tugged the mask back down around his neck. “Does it have to be that loud?”
“Yes, it does!” Julian shouted over the noise as he spun the dial, cycling through station after station.
Yadriel rolled his eyes and cranked down the window to get some cool air in the stuffy cab. It whipped through his hair. The buffeting wind fought with the crackling of the speakers. The air cooled Yadriel down and made it easier for him to breathe.
Julian went so fast through the stations, Yadriel had no idea how he could even tell what was playing. Sometimes he’d pause and Yadriel thought he’d finally found one he liked, but then he always ended up searching for a new song before it was over.
In between the fuzz of dead channels, there was a flash of music so quick that Yadriel barely registered it until Julian shouted, “YES!”
“Urgh, really?” Yadriel yelled over the heavy bum ba-dum bum bum of blaring reggaeton.
“YES, REALLY!” Julian sucked in a deep breath and sang at the top of his lungs.
Yadriel burst into laughter. “OH MY GOD!”
“SHUT UP, THIS IS MY FAVORITE SONG!” Julian yelled back, laughter shaking his words.
Objectively, Julian was a terrible singer, but, damn, was he committed. Shoulders rolling, Julian danced in his seat and sang like his life depended on it. The way his voice cracked had Yadriel gripping the steering wheel for dear life as deep belly laughs shook him.
Unabashed and beaming—this was his favorite version of Julian. Bright, carefree, and overflowing with infectious energy.
Alive.
Julian snagged Yadriel’s eye as he looked over at him and sang-shouted, his eyebrows tipping to an earnest angle.
Yadriel ducked his head and sank down farther in his seat, his face burning bright red. This only made Julian break into more laughter, and then they were both a mess.
By the time they got through the city, the traffic had thinned out considerably. They left the skyscrapers behind, and the scenery opened up. The sky was streaked with dizzying orange and luminous pink, kissing the horizon where it met the ocean. The deep blue stretched out, sunlight sparking off the water. The lazy crash of waves joined the music. The crisp air mixed with the smell of salt water and exhaust.
Yadriel veered onto the Pacific Coast Highway where it ran along mansions and pale beaches.
“Faster!” Julian demanded, twisting in his seat to face Yadriel.
“I’m going fast enough!” Yadriel told him, the speedometer hovering at the speed limit.
“FASTER, YOU COWARD!” Julian gripped Yadriel’s knee.
A chill shot up his thigh. A breath caught in his lungs. He could feel it. The pressure of Julian’s fingers, the weight of his palm.
Yadriel glanced over, meeting Julian’s hungry stare. There was a recklessness in his smile. Sunset burned in his eyes. Heat pooled in Yadriel’s stomach. He huffed, but a grin was already pulling at the corners of his lips, betraying his crumbling resolve.
Gripping the steering wheel at precisely ten and two, Yadriel checked the mirrors. His knuckles flexed over the smooth leather, and, with a roar of the engine, Yadriel’s back pressed into the seat as the Stingray charged ahead.
Julian howled with delight. He gripped the door and leaned out the open window.
Yadriel’s hand shot out to grab him and felt ridiculous when his fingers went right through Julian’s shoulder.
Dimples pressed into his cheeks, Julian stretched his arms out. He shouted something, but it was swallowed up by the thundering wind.
Julian was unleashed, brilliantly burning.
It gave Yadriel a head rush as they sped past crashing waves, palm trees, and beaches painted pink by the sunset. The engine thrummed through his body. His heart hammered in time.
When they finally pulled into the parking lot along the beach, the sun was nothing more than a smudge of burning red against the horizon. The party was already in full swing. A huge crowd of people gathered around the bonfire, tucked between two abandoned lifeguard towers. Music blared from a set of speakers somewhere. The crackling flames sent crooked shadows dancing toward the lapping waves.
Yadriel pulled out his phone. He had several missed calls from his dad. He scrolled through the texts before quickly clearing them out. Yadriel didn’t have the stomach to read them, let alone listen to any of the voicemails, so he turned off the notifications.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Yadriel groaned, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.
“Yes!” Julian said, bounding to his side.
Yadriel glared up at him. “This is my worst nightmare, Jules.”
He was unbothered. “This is my last dying wish, Yads,” he said with mock sincerity, tugging the mask up over Yadriel’s nose.
“Come on, come on, come on!” Julian called, waving Yadriel on as he headed for the party.
Reluctantly, Yadriel followed.
For such a huge group of people, he felt surprisingly invisible, and that, for once, was a relief. When he spoke to Julian, his mouth was covered so no one could see him and think he was talking to himself. Not to mention, his voice didn’t travel very far in the cacophony of music and voices.
Everyone had showed up in costume, or at least a mask. There were mermaids, devils, and detailed disguises. Some people just threw on one of those colored paper masks and called it good.
He didn’t recognize anyone, and he kept reminding himself that no one recognized him, either, and no one cared. No one gave him a strange look, no one even noticed him when he accidentally bumped into them. He was just a boy in a sea of bodies.
Julian was in his element. He liked noisy places and noisy people. A stormy boy who seemed most comfortable in chaos. Everyone cheered and danced and drank. The air smelled of smoke, alcohol, and sea salt. He joined a group of people crowded around a guy in a horse mask, laughing as he gulped down a beer. Julian whooped and cheered. People moved through him, but no one seemed to notice. Either it was too cold for them to tell, or inebriation had dulled their senses. Probably a combination of both.
“Beer?” Julian asked, gesturing to large boxes of cheap beer that had been ripped open, spilling cans from their torn mouths.
“No,” Yadriel said, tense with even more discomfort, if that were possible. There were several reasons he hated going to parties, one of them being the pressure to drink.
Julian looked around at a Styrofoam cooler and several handles of liquor stuck in the sand. “They’ve probably got tequila or somethin’—”
“I don’t drink,” Yadriel all but growled. He half expected Julian to guffaw or try to goad him into it. He braced himself, ready to argue on his own behalf.
Instead, Julian just nodded. “My bad!”
And then he was off to the next thing that caught his attention, leaving Yadriel standing there.
He watched Julian as he wandered off toward a girl in a corn costume who had elote in stacks on catering trays she was selling for a dollar. Deflated, Yadriel wondered if he’d ever stop being surprised by Julian Diaz.
He wove between people, trying to keep up as Julian coaxed him deeper into the crowd. Yadriel wanted to reach out and catch hold of his arm, to drag him closer, but he couldn’t. He had to wedge himself between a pair with elaborate masks of rubber and fur, one a wolf, the other a jaguar. He nearly stumbled right through Julian.
“I keep losing you!” he shouted, and Julian had to lean down to hear him. The music blared in Yadriel’s ears, but Julian was entirely unaffected.
“This is my FAVORITE song!” Julian said, his cold breath tickling Yadriel’s cheek.
“I thought the one in the car was your favorite song?” Yadriel asked.
Julian only shrugged, grinning ear to ear, painfully charming.
The loud, pulsing music thumped in Yadriel’s chest like a second heartbeat. He could feel it in his bones. The music was devouring, making it impossible for Yadriel to doubt or second-guess himself as he swayed to the beat. The close press of bodies normally would’ve made Yadriel’s skin crawl. But, right now, the jostling was reassuring, like being nudged by ocean waves, lulled into an ebb and flow.
Julian’s hips rolled, his head bobbed. Eyes closed and smiling, the firelight danced over his skin. Yadriel was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. To his foolhardy charm and striking features. Julian was achingly beautiful, but in the way a thunderstorm was beautiful—wild, rough, electric.
And bound to leave devastation in his wake.
A dancing couple almost separated them again, but Yadriel and Julian surged toward each other at the same time. Julian pressed close, and Yadriel shivered. A thrill shot up his spine, robbing him of breath.
There was loud singing and bursts of laughter. Push and pull. Hot breath and shuddering chills. Biting ocean breeze on sweltering skin. Julian’s white teeth and dimples melted away to heavy-lidded eyes and parted lips.
Yadriel let his eyes fall shut, in a heady daze. Icy fingers fit against his hip. They ghosted over the pulse in his neck. He pressed closer still, hungry and aching. Heat rushed low in his stomach. He wanted to reach out and hold on tight.
Suddenly, bright lights flashed across Yadriel’s vision. When he opened his eyes, flashlight beams cut through the crowd. The music ended. Everyone stood there in a daze, the spell broken. A confused murmur rose in the group. “Cops!” a voice rang out, followed by others.
Voices crackled over loudspeakers, reciting that it was illegal to have glass containers or alcohol on the beach, and that a permit was required for parties over fifty people. They sounded bored. This was likely just one of many parties to be broken up along the beach that evening.
People scattered, and someone booed, but Julian just laughed, his face lit with excitement.
But Yadriel did not need to be stopped by the cops when there was a stolen car a hundred yards away. “Come on!” he shouted.
They ran, stumbling over mounds of sand, laughing hard and unable to stand upright. They sprinted for the car, shoes slipping on sand-covered concrete. Yadriel threw himself into the Stingray, and she roared back to life. They took off, flying down the PCH.
Julian whooped.
Yadriel yanked his mask down and hunched over the steering wheel, laughing so hard his cheeks hurt.
Julian directed Yadriel to a lookout point. It was just a gravel turnout on top of a seaside cliff. Yadriel pulled up to the short guardrail, beyond which the craggy cliff face cascaded down.
They got out and climbed onto the hood. The metal was still hot from the engine. It kept Yadriel warm as the crisp ocean breeze rushed in. It rustled the bowing palm trees. He could feel sand in his hair and clinging to his skin. The lights of fishing boats winked out in the sea of black. The moonlight bounced off the distant water. Waves threw themselves against the jagged rocks in lazy rhythm, crashing and rolling. The spray tickled Yadriel’s face. His lips tasted like salt. It was almost enough to lull him to sleep.
“My dad used to drive us up here,” Julian said quietly at Yadriel’s side.
Yadriel tilted his head. Julian sat with his feet planted on the hood of the car. His chin was propped on his folded arms, resting on his knees. His dark eyes stared up.
“Best view of the stars,” he said, squinting one eye shut as he held his palm up, lining up the sparse stars between his fingers. The orange haze of the city lights chased them off to the horizon, where the sky turned inky-black.
Yadriel watched him silently for a moment, quite liking the mental picture of Julian, his dad, and his brother up there, admiring the view. A trio of boys from East Los Angeles stargazing in Malibu.
“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.
“Anything you wish you’d done?”
The smile slipped. “A couple.”
This was a bad idea. Too much, too close, but when Julian leaned forward Yadriel didn’t want to pull away.
Yadriel’s lungs felt tight, like he was holding his breath too long underwater.
A voice in his head told him to stop. That he was getting in over his head. These were treacherous waters and wading into them would only end badly. But a much more powerful force dragged him down like an undertow.
Julian squinted, the angles of his face tight in concentration. Slowly, he brought his hand up to the side of Yadriel’s face, close, but not touching. His stormy eyes slid to Yadriel’s, holding a question. “¿Me dejas robarte un beso?” he said softly, in the most agonizingly beautiful Colombian accent Yadriel had ever heard. It was pure and melodic, like a song.
Yadriel closed his eyes. He nodded.
Cold pressed to his cheek, sending shivers down his neck. He sucked in a breath. Julian’s palm cupped his cheek. He felt each icy finger pressed to the skin below his ear, the soft sweep of Julian’s thumb just below his eyelashes.
When he opened his eyes, Julian was staring back. The smoldering intensity made his skin flush.
Julian tilted his head. Cold nipped at Yadriel’s nose. A soft caress ghosted over his lips, and Yadriel let himself drown in it. It was unexpectedly gentle and sweetly slow. His skin flushed, hot and wanting, and Julian’s cool touch sent shivers rolling through him. Yadriel’s soul ached. He leaned closer, his hands reaching out, fingers wanting to knot into Julian’s jacket and pull him closer.
But they grasped at air. There was nothing to hold on to.
Buzz buzz-buzz.
A jolt yanked up Yadriel’s spine and he jerked away. The shuddering of his phone’s alarm shook in his back pocket. He scrambled away, arching his back to grab it. With clumsy fingers, he turned it off. “Jesus.” He pressed his hand against his chest. His heart hammered. The sharp edge of Julian’s medal cut into his palm.
Julian looked startled, his hand still hovering in the empty air.
“It’s my alarm,” Yadriel told him, trying to catch his breath. He had several messages from Maritza, asking where they were and when he’d be back. He stared up at Julian. His portaje poked uncomfortably into his lower back. “We need to head back or we won’t get there before midnight.”
Julian’s hand fell to his lap. He looked out over the water again. The wind tugged at his jacket. He closed his eyes and grinned. Below, the waves crashed. The moonlight painted him in shades of blue. His edges blurred like watercolors spilling outside of their lines.
“All right, patrón.” With one last deep breath, Julian slid off the hood. “Let’s go.”
Reluctantly, Yadriel got in the car and started driving back toward the city. Too quickly, the ocean faded from the rearview mirror.
It was too soon. Even if Julian was ready, Yadriel wasn’t.
With the windows rolled up, the car was comfortably warm. They fell into an easy quiet. A slow song filtered through the speakers, tinny and slow. Julian hummed along, his fingers tapping the beat out on the armrest.
Yadriel stole glances. When the chorus started, Julian sang along, voice soft and mostly off-key. Yadriel felt himself smile. Julian’s singing was terrible but endearing. People who sang in front of other people with no sense of self-consciousness were a specific and rare breed that Yadriel was decidedly not.
The singer’s voice dipped low, and Julian couldn’t follow, forcing the words to drown in his throat.
He chuckled, and Julian’s eyes flickered to his. The corners of Julian’s eyes crinkled as he smiled back.
Yadriel wanted to chase down the sunset. To not let it rise.
How long after he was gone would Yadriel be dreaming about Julian and this drive? Yadriel thought it would be worth the sleepless nights ahead.