“We need to put the finishing touches on the ofrenda for your mamá, so don’t be late,” his dad said, combing his fingers through his mustache. He smoothed down his shirt and stood up tall, sucking in his gut.
Yadriel just nodded. While he was getting used to sneaking around, he still didn’t have it in himself to lie so blatantly to his dad’s face. He would not be home right after school, probably wouldn’t be back until very late, after—
His stomach clenched. No, he didn’t want to think about that. Right now, he was only looking to make Julian happy. He wouldn’t let himself think past midnight.
Luckily, his dad didn’t seem at all suspicious. Enrique let out a breath, and his stomach pushed against his shirt, spilling a little over the edge of his belt.
Yadriel used his dad’s distraction to his benefit. “Okay, see you tonight!” he called, giving his dad a wave as he ran out the gate and down to where Julian was waiting at the corner.
“So, where to first, patrón?” he asked, walking backward in front of Yadriel.
“The store,” he said.
“For what?”
“Your favorite food. Whatever you want.”
Julian’s eyes lit up. “Whatever I want? But—wait.” He frowned. “For me? But I thought I couldn’t eat normal food?”
“You can’t,” Yadriel agreed, looking both ways before he crossed the street. “It’s for later.”
“What’s later?” Julian asked, jogging after him.
“It’s a secret,” Yadriel told him. He expected Julian to put up a fight, or at least whine and demand answers.
Instead, Julian bit his bottom lip, a wide smile splitting his face. The tips of his ears tinged red, and satisfaction thrummed in Yadriel’s chest.
They went to the local Mexican market. It was a large cement building painted yellow. As they strolled down the aisles, Yadriel dumped anything Julian pointed out into a red hand basket. Quickly, it filled up with packages of Gansitos, two glass bottles of Coke, pink coconut cookies, and some potato chips.
“TAKIS, TAKIS, TAKIS!” Julian crowed, running up to the display rack.
“Limón or fuego?” Yadriel asked, holding up the two bags.
Julian’s face contorted, like he’d just tasted something bitter. “Tch, fuego, obviously.” He shuddered. “I don’t like stuff with too much lime.”
Yadriel laughed and tossed the bag in. “You’re a disgrace to your people.” He bought the snacks with the cash he’d been saving over the past few weeks. When they stepped outside, there was an older man with a cart. Bags of fried dough in the shapes of pinwheels were tied around it.
“OOO, DUROS, YADRIEL!” Julian shouted so suddenly it made Yadriel jump.
“Okay, Jesus,” he whispered under his breath. He went up to the man and asked for a bag. The vendor opened one of the bags and dumped in chamoy, a pickled fruit and chili sauce that reeked of vinegar.
“No lime, no lime, no lime!” Julian panicked when the man reached for a small green bottle.
“Sin limón, por favor,” Yadriel told him. When they got a safe distance, he stopped to shove the contraband into his already stuffed backpack. “Ugh, my bag is never going to smell the same again,” Yadriel said, crinkling his nose.
Julian, on the other hand, inhaled deeply, sending his eyelids fluttering. “Mmm, I’m literally drooling right now,” he moaned.
“Have you decided where we’re going?” Yadriel asked.
Julian tapped his fingers against his chin. “Hmmm. I’ve got a couple ideas, but nothing Last Day on Earth worthy.” He frowned.
Yadriel’s phone vibrated in his back pocket. He pulled it out and checked the screen. He was paranoid someone from the school would report him as absent to his dad and he’d be in deep trouble. He was trying to put off any impending panic until later in the afternoon, when he didn’t come home from school. He felt terrible about it, but it was for a good reason. It was for Julian.
“Who’s that?” Julian asked, hovering over his shoulder.
“Just a group text from Letti,” he said, scrolling through the message. There was a location and lots of exclamation points. “Looks like they decided where the Halloween bonfire is going to be.” Yadriel shrugged.
When he looked up, Julian was staring at him, mouth open in an excited smile. Yadriel’s shoulders sank.
“Julian, no—”
“Yes, Yads!”
It was Yadriel’s turn to complain. “Come on, there’s got to be something else you want to do!”
Julian happily shook his head. “Nope, I wanna do this!”
“Jules—!”
“Hey! I’m the one dying!” he said, tapping a finger to his chest. He paused. Frowned. “Er, dying again—getting deader?” Julian shook his head, waving off his own confusion. “I get to choose!”
“But—!”
“Them’s the rules!”
Yadriel groaned loudly and crossed his arms over his chest. “I really don’t want to go party with a bunch of people from school.” He didn’t even want to be around his classmates during school. The idea of hanging out with a bunch of them at a party where most of them would be drunk and belligerent sounded torturous at best and dangerous at worst. Yadriel was antisocial out of self-preservation. “I’m going to stick out like an awkward, sore thumb,” he added.
“Then it’s a good thing it’s Halloween, ain’t it? We’ll get you a disguise!” Julian told him, taking off down the street.
It was the day of Halloween, which meant the party-supply store was nearly cleared out. There were empty racks everywhere, and feathers and glitter littered the floor.
“How about this?” Julian said, toying with a mask made of peacock feathers.
“Yeah, that’ll help me blend in.” Yadriel glared.
Julian chuckled. “Okay, okay, okay.” He flicked the corner of a sugar skull face-painting kit. “This?”
Yadriel scoffed. “No. I’m not supporting the mass appropriation of calaveras in Western culture—”
“Okay, then.” Julian laughed, moving onto the next rack.
Yadriel made sure there was no one else down the aisle before quietly continuing his rant. “Sugar skulls are a sacred part of Día de Muertos, they’re not a Halloween costume for—”
But Julian was already onto the next option. “What about this?”
“This” was a black face shield one wore pulled up over their nose. It had the lower half of a skeleton’s face on it.
Yadriel hummed, uncertain. “Isn’t this what bikers wear?” he asked, picking up the mask and tracing his finger over the skull’s broken teeth.
Julian leaned his shoulder against the rack and gave Yadriel a look. “I don’t think anyone’s gonna mistake you for a Hells Angel.” He smirked.
Yadriel gave him a dubious look.
“Look, it’s basically a mask! It’ll cover half your face, no one’s gonna recognize you, and it matches your whole look,” he added, gesturing to Yadriel’s entire body.
He glanced down at his hoodie, torn black jeans, and combat boots. He squinted up at Julian. “And what’s my look?”