Page 84 of Espíritu

Julian grinned back, his earlier worries easing just a little. “With you here? I’ve got a shot.”

After school, Julian and Yadriel walked side by side to the apartment. The Stingray was parked out front, but it wasn’t the car that caught Julian’s attention—it was the figure leaning against the hood.

Angel.

They looked restless, one boot scuffing the asphalt, arms folded too tightly to be casual. Their sharp golden eyes flicked up the moment they spotted Julian and Yadriel.

“Finally,” Angel called, smirking—but the edge was too sharp, like it had been honed over anxiety. They exhaled a nervous laugh. “I was starting to think you ghosted me.”

Julian winced. He hadn’t responded to their last few texts and after the spirit release—after that scream—he hadn’t even checked in. Not because he didn’t want to. Because he didn’t know how.

The image of Angel’s obsidian blade still lived somewhere behind his eyes. That green light. That sound.

And the girl.

Julian forced a smile, the kind that felt too tight in the corners. “Nah. Nothing like that!” he said, trying to keep his tone light. “I like hanging out with you.”

Even if lately, it scared the hell out of him.

Before the moment could spiral, Yadriel stepped in with a quick, reassuring smile. “Julian doesn’t ghost people. He just forgets to text back.”

Angel’s smirk faltered into something almost relieved, then shuttered. Julian couldn’t read them. He wasn’t sure he wanted to try right now.

“Come on,” Yadriel said, leading the way to the stairs. “It’s warmer inside, and Rio probably already burned the spaghetti.”

Angel hummed, falling into step with Yadriel.

Julian followed, guilt needling the back of his throat. He’d asked Angel for help, then vanished the moment things got dicey. And now? He wasn’t even sure what he felt. Angel unsettled him. Angel had helped him. Angel scared him.

And yet, here they were—walking into the warmth of his home like everything was fine.

As they reached the apartment door, Julian paused for a beat.

This wasn’t just about placating Rio or hanging out. It was about showing his friends he hadn’t forgotten them. He’d been messing up, disappearing. But not this night. This night, he was showing up.

He turned to Yadriel, squaring his shoulders a little. “Time to prove I’m not the worst friend in the world,” he said, forcing a grin.

The apartment was chaos, as usual.

Omar lounged in the recliner with an ancient car magazine from the shop, Rocky and Flaca argued over the playlist coming from her phone, and Luca sat cross-legged on the floor, scribbling in his notebook.

The smell of burnt tomato sauce wafted from the kitchen, where Rio stood over the stove. A bag of frozen meatballs lay ripped open on the counter, evidence of Rio’s idea of “homemade.”

“Hey, y’all, I brought guests!” Julian said, plastering on a smile as he kicked off his shoes and gestured for Yadriel and Angel to follow him in.

“Look who decided to grace us with his presence,” Omar said without looking up from his magazine as he angrily flipped a page.

“Miracle, right?” Julian joked.

Rocky glanced up, eyebrows lifting at the sight of Yadriel. “Hey, Yadriel.”

“Hi,” he said politely, offering a small wave before nudging Julian with his elbow. “Looks like a full house.”

“It’s always a full house,” Julian replied, though a genuine warmth crept into his voice. That was just the way he liked it.

Angel lingered near the door, arms still crossed, eyes flicking around as if they were mapping exits. Julian caught it, and so did Yadriel. They exchanged a quick glance.

Now Julian felt like a total asshole for thinking harshly of Angel. Not only were they trying to help Julian, they were on their own and clearly wanted to fit in with this group. If they kept coming back, that meant they cared, right?