Page 113 of Cemetery Boys

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.