Page 32 of Cemetery Boys

“We don’t know,” Yadriel confessed, lifting his shoulders in a shrug.

“Wait,” Julian shook his head. “Then how do you know he’s even dead?”

“It’s a brujx thing. If one of us dies, we can all feel it.”

Julian still looked confused. “But you don’t know what happened?”

Yadriel shook his head. “Only that it was … bad.” He remembered the sharp pain he’d felt. How it’d ripped through his chest. Goose bumps skittered down his arms at the thought. Yadriel frowned at himself. He felt helpless and frustrated. He was supposed to be helping the brujx find Miguel. “Hopefully they find him. We need to find him,” he corrected himself. “He could be anywhere, for all we know. If we’re wrong and his spirit didn’t get tethered, and he managed to cross over to the afterlife, at least his spirit will return during Día de Muertos, so he’ll be able to just tell us himself,” Yadriel said. “But still, the sooner we find him, the better. It’s not good for a spirit to be wandering around alone.”

Julian sat up straighter. “Why not?”

“Spirits can go maligno—turn dark and evil—if they stay in the land of the living for too long.” The thought of that happening to Miguel made him feel queasy all over again.

“How long?” Julian asked with an edge to his voice.

“It varies,” he said, knowing it wasn’t very helpful. He’d never seen it happen up close. The brujos kept on top of it, and it wasn’t like Yadriel was allowed to perform the releasing ritual, anyway. “Sometimes it happens quick—the spirit loses themselves and they turn violent,” he said with a shrug.

Julian had a strange look on his face, and, at first, Yadriel couldn’t place it. His jaw was flexed and his body rigid; his mouth in a hard line, nostrils flared as he stared at Yadriel.

Then it hit him—Julian was scared.

“But that won’t happen to you!” he said quickly, trying to backpedal. “I mean, sometimes it takes years and years for that to happen!”

Julian didn’t look reassured.

“That’s why we’ve got to find your friends tomorrow,” Yadriel rushed. “The sooner we do, the sooner I can release your spirit before anything goes sideways.”

Julian’s expression was doubtful. “Yeah, well, you be sure to use that knife of yours on me before I go full Exorcist,” he said gruffly, cocking an eyebrow. “Deal?”

Yadriel exhaled a laugh, but he agreed. “Deal.”

Julian’s shoulders relaxed a little. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything and Yadriel felt like a real asshole for being so insensitive.

Yadriel cleared his throat. “Nothing more we can do tonight, though. Everyone else is out looking for Miguel.” Hell, maybe they’ve even already found him and by morning the mystery would be all cleared up. “I’ll get you something to sleep on.” Yadriel went to his closet and dug around for his old sleeping bag.

“Why aren’t you out looking with them? With the other brujos?” Julian asked. He was back in the chair, knees bouncing.

“Well, they won’t let me,” Yadriel said, pushing a box of old clothes out of his way.

Julian spun himself in a circle. “Why?”

“Because they don’t think I’m a real brujo.”

He spun himself faster. “Why?”

Yadriel was glad Julian couldn’t see his face. His cheeks burned hot.

“Because I’m trans.”

Julian planted his feet and came to an abrupt stop, swaying slightly in the chair. “Oh.” He paused. Blinked. “Ohhh.”

Yadriel’s hand finally closed around the slick material of his sleeping bag and he yanked it out. He hugged it to his chest and faced Julian, waiting for some kind of judgment. Maybe laughter.

Instead, Julian frowned at Yadriel, his lip curled in an annoyed sort of way. “That sucks, dude.”

The words were matter-of-fact. Straight to the point. Holding no pretense.

Yadriel hadn’t expected it. He exhaled, shoulders slumping. “It does,” he agreed. “It sucks a lot.” He spent so much time holding his tongue and only having Maritza to vent to, it felt nice to just say it out loud to someone else. “Since they don’t think I’m a real boy, they wouldn’t give me my own portaje or let me have the brujo’s quinces—”