“Same reason I keep my hair short,” Julian said casually as he ran his palm over his dark, buzzed hair.
Yadriel stared at him. Was he being serious? He eyed that curved scar behind his ear again.
“They were supposed to be trained as search dogs, the kind we use to track down tethers,” Yadriel told him. “But they didn’t pass the test.”
“That doesn’t mean I love them any less,” Maritza cooed, planting a kiss on top of their large, square heads.
“We’re just one redhead in go-go boots short of our own Scooby gang,” Julian said, looking pleased with himself.
“Are you implying I’m a Velma?” Maritza demanded. “I’m a Fred!”
“Obviously, I’m Fred,” Julian went on, as if he hadn’t heard her.
Maritza scoffed, and they dove headfirst into bickering about who was more of a Fred.
Yadriel shook his head. “Hey!” He had to snap his fingers before they’d shut up long enough to look at him. “So where are we going? Where do your friends hang out?”
“Bunch of places.” Julian thought for a moment. “But if they’re trying to lay low…” He trailed off, as if he didn’t like the answer. He gave his head a small shake. “There’s an underpass by the train tracks we hang out at; let’s try that first.”
“Is it walkable?” Yadriel asked. “We can’t exactly get on the bus with these two.”
“Yeah, we don’t have fancy bus passes.”
“Fancy” was the last word Yadriel would use to describe the flimsy card his parents purchased with his student discount.
“We walk everywhere, or ride.” As if remembering, Julian added, “Man, I hope they found my skateboard.”
Maritza shot Yadriel a criticizing look. He only shrugged in response.
“Hey, is your birthday next month?” she asked Julian.
He blinked. “Yeah, the thirteenth—Wait, how did you—?”
Maritza’s face was a picture of smugness. “See?” she said to Yadriel. “Told you.” With that, she turned and began walking in the direction of the train tracks. Donatello and Michelangelo led the way as her barrel-chested bodyguards.
“But how did you—?” He turned to Yadriel. “How did she know that?”
“Call it witchy intuition!” Maritza said over her shoulder.
Yadriel couldn’t keep himself from laughing as he jogged to catch up. Julian chased after them, demanding answers.
TEN
The farther they got from home, the more unsure Yadriel was about this plan. Afternoon LA traffic kept the streets packed, and the air filled with the sounds of honking, sirens, and bumping subwoofers battling for dominance. But as they followed the train tracks, the main roads started to clear until the sounds of traffic were just a droning in the distance. Empty tracks stretched out before them.
The path was littered with broken brown bottles, fast-food wrappers, and cigarette butts. Donatello and Michelangelo enjoyed snuffling through the debris as Maritza tried, in vain, to stop them.
A man in a large black jacket with his hands stuffed deep into the pockets walked toward them. When he spotted Donatello and Michelangelo, he crossed to the other side of the street, staring intensely as they passed.
“If we get mugged or kidnapped, I’m going to be pissed,” Maritza told Yadriel.
He laughed, but it did little to ease the tension knotting his shoulders. “Noted.”
The warm afternoon seemed to pass right through Julian. The burning gold light that streaked across the sky and splashed against the walls of buildings didn’t touch him. Instead, he was washed in dull blue, the color of dusk.
Julian’s pace quickened until Maritza and Yadriel had to half jog to keep up with him. Donatello and Michelangelo trotted along, their massive paws shuffling over the pavement.
“Are we close?” Yadriel asked.
“It’s right up ahead!”
Yadriel tucked Julian’s necklace under his shirt. He didn’t want to have to come up with an explanation if Julian’s friends noticed it.
“Here, here, here!” Julian waved at them frantically as he raced toward a set of stairs that led down from the train tracks.
“Wait!” Yadriel called after him, panic finally getting the better of him as he chased after Julian.
Luckily, he stopped at the top of the stairs, but was poised to take off, one hand already on the railing. “What?” he demanded.
“What’s the plan here?” Yadriel asked, fidgeting with his hands.
“The plan?” Julian repeated, his face screwed up in confusion.
“Yeah, like, what are we going to say to them?”
Julian waved a hand dismissively. “Nothing, I just need to make sure they’re okay!”
“Uh.” Maritza came up to Yadriel’s side. “We can’t just walk into your friends’ hideout, be like, ‘Hey, just checking in,’ and then be on our merry way,” she told him.
Yadriel nodded enthusiastically in agreement. He was very glad to have another voice of reason.
Julian let out a groan, like coming up with a game plan was a very large inconvenience. “I’ll just tell you what to say in the moment!”
“What, like Cyrano de Bergerac?” Yadriel asked with a sarcastic laugh.
Julian blinked. “Uh … yeah.”
“Do you even know who that is?” Maritza said.
Julian scowled. “Yes!”
He was definitely lying.
“That didn’t exactly work out for him, so I really don’t think it’ll go well for us, either,” Yadriel tried to reason, but he’d already lost Julian’s attention again.
“Blah, blah, blah! It’ll be fine!” he insisted, turning back to the stairs, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Come on, they’re right over here!”
“Julian,” Yadriel hissed, but it was too late.
Julian was already halfway down the stairs when Yadriel got to them. He went as fast as he could, only tripping once when his heel caught on an uneven step. At the bottom of the stairs, Yadriel rounded the corner to find him in the concrete tunnel under the tracks. Grass grew between the crooked pavers, and small rivulets ran down wide pillars. Pavement sloped up on either side until it ran against the wall of the arch.
“Thank God,” Julian exhaled, a smile lighting up his face.
A small group of people sat among an assembly of items. A shabby tent that looked like it could barely fit two people was patched together with bits of duct tape. There were some half-filled jugs of water, what looked like a tarp, and a few other items.
The entire section of wall was covered in spray paint. It wasn’t a mural, and certainly nothing done by Banksy, but there were some colorful doodles and a slew of words, some in English, some in Spanish, and others complete gibberish. A large skull was spray-painted off to the side in shades of neon purple, pink, and blue. Most of its teeth were missing, but the ones that remained were crooked and gold. Below in lopsided black letters was HAY NIÑAS CON PENE, NIÑOS CON VULVA Y TRANSFÓBICOS SIN DIENTES. In the lower corner, it read, ST. J.
Yadriel recognized the handwriting. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.