Chapter Four. Julian #3
Marisol hovered in her oversize gray hoodie, the sleeves dangling past her translucent hands.
Wisps of dark hair slipped from under her hood, catching faint golden light as she flickered.
For the first time, Julian noticed the enamel pin stuck to her backpack strap—a tiny stack of manga volumes, the colors glowing faintly with her.
Julian’s face lit up. “No way! You’re into Haikyu!!?”
Marisol’s outline brightened, her jittery form smoothing for a moment. She pressed her hand against the pin like she was showing it off, her sneakers flickering against the gravel. She lifted her hood just enough for him to catch the edges of a shy smile.
“That’s one of Yads’s favorites!” Julian said, grinning. “He’s made me watch the anime, like, a bajillion times! Good taste, dude.” He nodded in approval. “I’ll try to track down the next volume for you!”
If Yadriel didn’t have it, Julian could probably snag it from the school library, if it wasn’t already checked out.
Marisol actually looked excited, then touched the pin again. She shimmered once, like a candle flame guttering in a draft, before drifting back among the stones.
Julian ran to catch up with Yadriel and Maritza. The brief interactions with ghosts did more to lift his spirits than the entire school day had.
The cemetery didn’t feel like just the brujx’s anymore. It felt like his.
Yadriel’s combat boots crunched on the gravel path alongside Julian’s scuffed Chucks as they followed Maritza down the path.
Usually, Julian could feel the fluttering energy of his attention span like fireflies in his chest, but there, among the dead, it was oddly soothing.
The familiarity of the cemetery—of the spirits, of the brujx magic thrumming faintly through the soil—made the tension in his shoulders start to ease.
But then the shadows crept back in his mind.
The dark, endless vision. The glowing water. The way the world had disappeared from under him. It weighed him down and slowed his stroll.
“I saw something at school today,” Julian said, interrupting whatever Yadriel and Maritza had been discussing.
They both turned to look at him, confused, before exchanging glances with each other.
“What do you mean?” Yadriel asked.
Julian hesitated, then blurted it out. “In the hallway. I think it was like … a vision of a cave or something? It smelled weird, and there was water and all these glowy lights,” he listed off in an anxious tumble of words. “Just for a second, but it was like the walls faded away, and there it was.”
Maritza’s brows shot up. “A cave? Are you sure?”
Julian rubbed his scar, trying to quell the unease. “Yeah, pretty sure. It was dark, all swirling shadows. I don’t know, it felt … wrong. Bad.”
Yadriel frowned, gaze dropping to Julian’s chest. “Do you think it has something to do with the dark spot?”
Julian shrugged, lips pressing together in frustration. “I don’t know what it means, but it’s starting to ache more,” he said, absently rubbing his scar again. “It just doesn’t feel right—I don’t feel right,” he clarified. “But maybe we could look it up? Is there like a brujx Google or something?”
Maritza shook her head. “Most brujx don’t write that kind of stuff down, Jules. Too risky if a non-brujx reads it,” she explained. “It’s all oral, passed along face-to-face.” Her arms crossed. “Which means we need to find someone who knows more than us.”
“Not Lita. Definitely not my dad,” Yadriel added quickly. “They’d shut this down or worse—” He cut himself off.
Julian wondered what would be worse, but it was clear Yadriel wouldn’t say more. “So we need someone who won’t totally freak out,” he said.
Maritza tapped her chin. “Exactly. Someone who’ll actually tell us what this could mean without grounding us or ratting us out.”
“We’ll figure out someone.” Yadriel squeezed Julian’s shoulder, steady. “You’re not alone in this.”
Julian leaned against his boyfriend. For the first time all day, the panicked buzz in his chest quieted. He managed a small, crooked smile. “Thanks.”
Maritza sighed, a sympathetic but exasperated look on her face. “I just wish we could do something to make you feel better.” She tilted her head.
Just like that, Julian’s mood brightened. “You know what would make me feel better?” he said. “Tacos!”
Yadriel laughed.
“I shouldn’t have asked,” Maritza grumbled.
“How about some Jack in the Box?” Julian flashed a grin, hoping to coax a smile from Maritza and Yadriel.
Yadriel rolled his eyes, but Julian saw the corner of his mouth twitch. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Goofy,” Maritza muttered.
Julian blinked. “What’s he got to do with it?”
“Jack in the Box tacos are the worst!” Maritza clarified, shaking with laughter.
“I know what good tacos are—I’m a taco concierge!” Julian argued back.
“You mean connoisseur,” Maritza deadpanned.
He nodded. “Yeah, that too!”
Maritza made a face. “Do you know they deep-fry those things? And they use American cheese! Plasticky, gross American cheese!”
“You’re making my stomach growl!” Julian whined.
“Fine, we’ll get your tacos,” Yadriel conceded, shaking his head fondly.
“Three tacos!” Julian confirmed, emphasizing each word with a waggle of his eyebrows, getting a rush of joy at the small victory.
“Three tacos,” Yadriel echoed, and this time, he did smile—a small, genuine thing that made Julian’s heart skip a beat.
“If we’re getting three tacos, we might as well get four,” Julian reasoned as he led the way.
“Julian—”
“It’s two for like a buck fifty!”
The scents of greasy fries and sizzling burgers mingled with the laughter echoing off the walls of the bustling Jack in the Box where Yadriel, Maritza, and Julian were tucked into a corner booth.
Crumpled napkins littered the table amid half-empty salsa packets and the remnants of their quick meal—or well, Yadriel and Julian’s meal.
They’d learned that the only vegan option at Jack in the Box was a chicken teriyaki bowl without the chicken, so Maritza opted out.
It was one of those rare moments when the supernatural world didn’t seem to press so urgently against the veil of normal life.
Julian leaned back on the pleather bench with an easy grin. “So there I was, right here, midnight munchies hitting hard.” He pointed at the floor for emphasis, his lanky frame stretched out as he launched into his story.
“Then me, Omar, Rocky, Flaca, and Luca go outside, about to head back,” Julian went on.
“When, suddenly, I hear this rustling and scraping by the dumpsters. And it’s, like, serious horror-movie vibes, y’know?
All we needed was a guy screaming ‘Did you hear that?!’ Thought for sure it was La Llorona coming to drag me away after I escaped her down by the LA River—”
Yadriel’s head tipped to the side. “Wait, what?”
“Don’t interrupt, Yads!” Maritza shushed, her pink-and-purple curls bouncing with suppressed laughter.
“I went to go check it out and threw open the lid of the dumpster. Turns out”—Julian paused for effect, his smile wide—“it was just a chubby raccoon trying to score some leftover tacos. Swear to God, his eyes were all lit up like tiny demon flashlights, and then—”
Julian slapped his palm on the table. Maritza and Yadriel jumped, dissolving into a new fit of laughter.
“It jumps out at me like a bat out of hell!” Julian told them. “It latched on to my sleeve with its teeth, and I didn’t know what to do, so I just spun in a circle, shouting and swinging this raccoon around—”
“Oh my gods.” Maritza cackled. “This is what happens when I’m not around to supervise?!”
“I’m gonna barf!” Yadriel groaned, doubled over with laughter. “You weaponized a raccoon?!”
Julian threw up his hands. “I blacked out halfway through, but I think I earned its respect!”
As Yadriel and Maritza’s laughter tumbled, cold suddenly prickled at the back of Julian’s neck.
A flicker of movement yanked his attention.
Past the windows streaked with fingerprints, shadows were moving just beyond the glow of neon signs.
But only at the edge of his vision. Every time he tried to look at them directly, they dissolved.
A sharp tug pulled at Julian’s ribs, as if someone had hooked him and was trying to reel him in. His scar throbbed in time with it, a pulse that wasn’t his own.
Julian froze. The booth, the neon glow, Yadriel and Maritza’s chatter—all of it blurred into a tunnel. The pull dragged his attention toward the back door, insistent, urgent.
He felt the urge—the need—to get up and check it out.
“Uh, give me a sec,” he muttered, already sliding out of the booth. His legs moved before his brain caught up, sneakers sticking to the syrupy floor as if resisting him.
“Where you going, Jules?” Yadriel called after him, still half laughing but his voice muffled.
Julian didn’t answer. He couldn’t. The hook kept tugging, dragging him closer to whatever was outside.
“Probably nothing,” he mumbled to himself, repeating the words in his head like a mantra. But Julian knew better than to ignore his gut, especially when it whispered warnings that clawed at his insides.
His feet carried him instinctively, the fluorescent lights of Jack in the Box casting long shadows that danced unnaturally across the linoleum. His heart thumped an erratic rhythm as he approached the door, the chilly night air sneaking through the crack and nipping at his skin.
“Hey, wait up!” Yadriel’s worried voice cut through Julian’s concentration like a knife.
He and Maritza caught up as Julian pushed open the heavy door, a bell clanging their departure overhead.
The parking lot outside was a stark contrast to the artificial warmth inside—dark and deserted except for a few scattered cars, the rattle of an old AC unit clinging to life above them and the steady hum of traffic like distant thunder.
“What’s going on?” Maritza asked sharply.
“Something’s not right,” Julian murmured, more to himself than to them. His eyes darted from shadow to shadow, trying to spot what they were hiding. “Can’t you feel it?”