Yadriel’s stomach twisted. His mouth was dry, like his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. “And if you use too much, you can die,” he said, refusing to look at Julian when he said it. Yadriel could practically hear Julian’s brain buzzing with a slew of questions, so he cut him off at the pass.
“And some people aren’t born with much, or any,” he plowed on. “Like my uncle Catriz—”
“Tall guy with the big nose, gauged ears, and man bun?” Julian asked.
Yadriel scowled. “It’s not a man bun!” he snapped defensively. “Wearing your hair long and having stone plugs in your ears like that is very traditional.”
Julian smirked and Yadriel rolled his eyes.
“Anyways. Even though we’re from a powerful line of brujx—going back to even before the great Aztecs and Maya—his magic is so weak, he can only see and sense spirits,” Yadriel explained. “He can’t perform the other tasks of the brujos. They call it dilución de la magia, which means—”
“The dilution of magic, yeah, I know,” Julian interrupted. “I told you, I speak Spanish.”
“Well, my tío is an outcast like me,” Yadriel went on. “I mean, Maritza chooses to not be a bruja, but me and my uncle weren’t given that choice.” He shrugged.
“He gets me, and he has my back,” Yadriel said, remembering how Catriz had stood up for Yadriel earlier. How he’d tried talking sense to his dad. Even though it hadn’t worked, Yadriel was deeply thankful he’d even tried. He owed his tío big time for that.
“Well, at least your family is more accepting than Flaca’s,” Julian said, following his own train of thought. “She’s trans, but she’s a ‘throwaway.’”
“Throwaway?” Yadriel repeated, trying to regather his thoughts. He’d noticed—or assumed—Flaca was trans, but he didn’t know what “throwaway” meant.
“Yeah, her parents kicked her out when she told them.” He glowered up at the ceiling. “Throwaway. It was rough at first; she didn’t have anywhere to go, so she stayed with us a lot. But now she’s got some distant relatives—a cousin, I think—that she’s crashing with. Most of the time, anyways.”
“What about Rocky and Omar?” Yadriel asked. “If they’re hiding out at the underpass because they’re scared, aren’t their parents worried?”
“Rocky’s in a group home,” Julian said, as if that explained everything.
“Not all foster homes are bad,” Yadriel felt compelled to argue. One of his cousins and her husband were foster parents who had taken in a little girl. “Kids get adopted to nice families all the time—”
“Being in a group home is not the same as being with a foster family,” Julian told him. “It’s just a big house run by the state. Rocky hates it there. Too many kids, not enough beds, and some of them are real assholes.” Julian heaved a deep sigh. “Whenever she needed a break, Rio let her crash at our place. Same goes for Flaca, and Luca, like I said. Doesn’t even ask questions, just drags another blanket out of the closet.” His expression softened. “It’s a doggy-dog world out there,” Julian sighed.
The corner of Yadriel’s mouth twitched. “Dog-eat-dog.”
“Whatever.”
“What about Omar?”
“Omar’s the best of us.” He laughed. “Definitely the smartest one in the group. Good grades. Usually the one keeping the rest of us from getting into too much trouble. He’s the only one who’s got parents that actually like him,” Julian said. “But they got deported.”
Yadriel cringed. He thought of the brujx who had been taken away. It left a hole in their community, a pain that ached through multiple families and generations. Yadriel hated himself a little for judging Omar so quickly.
“But Omar was born here, so he didn’t have to go with them. He wanted to, but they wouldn’t let him,” Julian explained. “They sacrificed everything to get to the US and make sure Omar had a better life than them, you know? It’s messed up, man.” He shook his head slowly. “Rio said Omar could live with us, even though we don’t have much space. His parents try to call as often as they can, but…” Julian shrugged. “He puts on a front, acts like shit doesn’t bother him, but I can tell it does. FaceTime isn’t the same as having your parents here with you.”
Yadriel knew that all too well. The way Julian said it made it clear he knew from personal experience, too.
“Do you mind if I ask what happened to your dad?” Yadriel asked.
“Got shot.” The muscles in Julian’s jaw clenched. “Stray bullet from a drive by. Wrong place, wrong time. He got me that necklace when I was younger.” He motioned to the St. Jude medal where it rested in the dip of Yadriel’s throat.
Yadriel traced his fingers over it.
“Y’know, lost cause, and all that.” He grinned like it was an inside joke.
“And your mom?” Yadriel asked, dragging his thumbnail across the engraved letters.
His question chased off Julian’s smile. “She and my dad met in Colombia and moved here before my brother was born. But after she had me, my mom ran off. Dad never heard from her again.” Julian shifted. “My life sounds pretty boring compared to all those rumors. I think I like the sicarios-on-the-run story way better.” He smirked.
“I’m sorry about your mom,” Yadriel said, but Julian didn’t seem too bothered about it.
Julian shrugged. “Can’t miss someone you never knew, right?”
Yadriel supposed he had a point.
“Sounds like Rio really takes care of you guys.”
Julian shrugged before simply saying, “We’re family.”
“He’s got to be worried sick about you,” Yadriel gently nudged.
“Yeah, well”—Julian tucked his hands under the back of his head—“we had a huge fight a few days ago, so I left. Told him I wasn’t coming back.” A deep crease pressed between his eyebrows. “And then I went and got myself killed, so. He’s put up with enough shit because of me,” he added with a shake of his head. “He was only twenty years old when my dad died. He stepped up to be my legal guardian, so I didn’t get tossed into the system, but what twenty-year-old guy wants to have to take care of his kid brother? And then to take in Omar, on top of it?” Julian snorted.
“He had to take a job at the mechanic business my dad and his friend owned. Carlos lets us stay in the little apartment above the shop, and Rio works for him to afford rent and groceries and stuff. He’ll probably be able to afford a real place without me dragging him down.” Julian nudged Purrcaso’s paw where it rested on the windowsill. She let out a noise of sleepy indignation.
Yadriel knew very little about Rio, but, from what he’d heard, something told him Julian was completely wrong. He doubted his brother was better off with him gone.
“What happened to your mom?” Julian ventured.
It was an obvious question. One that Yadriel was surprised Julian hadn’t asked already. He must’ve really been holding himself back. But that didn’t mean he was going to give him the details. “Car accident,” he said curtly.