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?”
Julian tipped his head side to side. “Gay goth witch?”
Yadriel grabbed a stack of jack-o’-lantern napkins and threw them at Julian’s head. They went right through him and bounced off the rack harmlessly.