Cemetery Boys

by Aiden Thomas

  He felt Julian’s smile under his lips. Felt his arms wrap around him and squeeze him tight again.

  Someone let out a low whistle.

  “You know we can see both your asses in those hospital gowns, right?” Maritza called.

  Yadriel ignored her. He pulled back enough to look Julian in the eye. “If you ever scare me like that again,” he said breathlessly, “I’ll kill you myself, Julian Diaz.”

  Julian’s grin was sharp. Bright. Blinding. “Deal,” he murmured before crushing him into another kiss.

  Yadriel gladly let himself drown in it.

  EPILOGUE

  Yadriel raced through the cemetery, pulling Julian along after him. Julian’s hand was warm, his grip strong, his palm calloused. As they ran for the church, Julian easily kept up as they wove between headstones. Yadriel looked over at him. Julian flashed him a cheek-aching smile and squeezed his hand. Laughter bubbled past Yadriel’s lips as he squeezed it back. He was there—he was real—and Yadriel would take any chance to grab him that he could.

  The aquelarre was about to begin. It had taken a while to answer the police’s lingering questions and to get discharged from the hospital. Julian had refused to leave Yadriel. Proclaimed it with such ferocity that searing heat washed over Yadriel’s face.

  But Rio also didn’t want to let him go, which was reasonable, considering what happened last time he let his little brother out of his sight. When Rio started asking too many questions, and Julian refused to give any answers, Yadriel’s dad was the one to break up the argument. He explained there was an important ceremony at the church Julian was welcome to attend. Afterward, he promised to bring Julian home himself.

  Rio was suspicious—he didn’t understand why Julian would be so invested in any sort of religious event taking place at a church—but he eventually caved. Yadriel suspected it had a lot to do with Luca practically nodding off on his feet, and how Omar, Flaca, and Rocky kept complaining about being hungry. Even if they didn’t understand the secrecy, they were still ride-or-die for Julian.

  Yadriel and Julian ran through the open gate and up the marigold-lined path to the church. Yadriel pulled Julian to a stop outside the door. Voices and laughter thrummed inside.

  Poised halfway up the steps, Julian turned back to Yadriel.

  Yadriel’s heart fluttered in his chest. The adrenaline coursing through his veins gave him a head rush. He was nervous. He was excited. He wanted to burst through the doors of the church. His heart wanted to explode. Beyond those doors, his mom, his ancestors, and his people were waiting, waiting to welcome this year’s of-age brujx.

  To welcome him.

  “You ready?” Julian asked, a curious look on his devastatingly handsome face.

  “No,” Yadriel confessed, his voice tight.

  Julian grinned. “Do it anyways.”

  Laughter broke in Yadriel’s chest, easing the tension.

  He snatched the front of Julian’s shirt and dragged him into a kiss. When he pulled back, Julian chased after his lips with a dazed smile.

  “Later.” Yadriel chuckled, pushing his face away as he ran up the rest of the steps.

  “How much later?” Julian demanded, running after him. “Later later, or, like, drag-me-out-behind-the-church-in-five-minutes later?”

  Yadriel laughed as he pushed open the doors.

  “Whoa,” Julian breathed.

  The church was full of brujx and blinding light. Unlike regular spirits of the dead, the brujx spirits who returned for Día de Muertos glowed with a golden aura. And when brujx spirits were granted their return to the land of the living, they were able to touch their loved ones.

  As Yadriel wove between people, heading for the main altar, families stood together talking, laughing, and embracing. There were smiles, tears, and kisses. Parents who had lost their children, lovers separated by death, and friends long lost were brought back together in celebration.

  Yadriel did his best not to jostle anyone as they made their way through the crowd, but heads began to turn, followed by astonished stares and whispers.

  “It’s okay,” he said to Julian, pulling him along. “They just aren’t used to outsiders.”

  “Uh, they ain’t lookin’ at me, Yads,” Julian said, grining.

  Yadriel frowned. What did he mean by that? He looked around. No, they weren’t looking at Julian.

  They were looking at him. Yadriel shrunk back under the sudden attention, his steps faltering. Brujx were pointing and craning their necks to get a better look at him. “But why?”

  Julian rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated huff. “Aren’t you the one who told me no brujx has brought anyone back from the dead in, like, a gazillion years?”

  Yadriel blinked up at him.

  “I think bringing four people back from the dead makes you some kind of god,” Julian mused with a shrug. “Or at least a hero.”

  Yadriel froze. A hero? He looked around at all the smiling faces.

  “Now.” Julian stepped behind Yadriel and pushed him forward. “Let’s go make it official,” he said into his ear.

  Brujx nodded their approval and clapped him on the back as he walked by. Yadriel’s face burned red, but he found himself smiling. His feet and Julian’s guiding hands led him deeper into the church. He passed Miguel, who stood with his mom and dad under each arm. Miguel smiled at him and gave him a small nod.

  The crowd began to thin out. Yadriel caught a glimpse of his grandparents, their auras bright.

  “¡Es mi nieto!” Lito announced, elbowing anyone in reach, his chest puffed up with pride.

  The scent of apples tickled Yadriel’s nose, and then he saw her.

  His mom wore a long red dress that rustled over the ground as she stepped forward. A yellow sash was cinched around her waist. She wore her hair down, as she always did. The soft chestnut waves were adorned with marigolds. Dark lashes framed her large brown eyes. She glowed with golden light, radiating from her skin.

  Yadriel held his breath.

  “Mi amor.” She smiled.

  Yadriel stared at her, frozen where he stood. She looked exactly the same, just how he remembered her.

  A small breath hitched in her throat, her fingers splayed against her chest. “Yadriel,” she said, her voice like a song. She held her arms out for him.

  Yadriel lurched forward into her embrace. Warmth radiated from her, easing the tension from Yadriel’s shoulders as he held on tight. Her hair tickled his face. She smelled just the same, like cloves and cinnamon.

  She pushed her fingers through his hair. “Mijito,” she said softly, kissing the top of his head, and Yadriel melted into her. Relief and longing broke inside him. He loved her so fiercely and wanted to tell her so, over and over again, but he couldn’t find his voice.

  “Let me see you!” she said, taking a step back to look him up and down. “Aye, such a handsome boy, my son!” his mother declared, red lips curling.

  Her eyes traveled over Yadriel’s shoulder. “And this must be Julian?” she asked, lips quirking into a knowing smile.

  Yadriel stepped aside and tugged on Julian’s arm. He stumbled forward. “Hi, Mrs. Velez,” he said, all nervous energy and bashful smile.

  “Camila,” she corrected warmly. She crossed one arm over her chest, tucked under her elbow as she tapped thoughtfully at her chin. “I have heard much about you. A ghost boy who came back from the dead, thanks to my Yadriel.”

  She squeezed Yadriel’s arm, and he swelled with pride.

  “I owe him big-time,” Julian said with a grin.

  “And don’t forget it,” Camila agreed with a smile and a wink. “Now, we have much to catch up on, and much to discuss!” She gave Yadriel a pointed look. “So let’s make the most of our time together.”

  She raised a delicate eyebrow at Yadriel. “And tell me everything,” Camila added in a stage whisper, nodding in Julian’s direction.

  Julian preened.

  “Mom!” Yadriel hissed.

  “Bu
t first,” she went on, as if she hadn’t heard him, taking a step back and waving toward the front of the church.

  Yadriel’s dad and Lita stood on the raised altar, just below Lady Death’s alcove. Enrique and Lita were in full regalia. They wore the sacred royal headdresses that had been passed down through the brujx leaders for centuries.

  Before them stood the three brujx who had turned fifteen since the last Día de Muertos. Maritza was there in her dress. She looked back over her shoulder and waved at Yadriel frantically. Hurry up! She mouthed.

  This was it. Yadriel turned to Julian.

  “Get ’em, brujo,” he said, nudging him with his shoulder.

  Yadriel took a deep breath and shook out his tingling fingers. He stepped forward and fell into line next to Maritza, probably a bit closer than necessary.

  Maritza cleared her throat and nodded with her chin. Her rose-quartz rosary was pooled in her cupped hands. Down the line, the other brujx held out their portajes.

  Yadriel quickly reached back for his dagger. It slipped through his sweaty fingers. He nearly dropped it, but he scrambled to recover without losing a finger in the process. He laid it across his upturned palms, and Maritza nodded approvingly.

  His dad’s chuckles made Yadriel look up.

  When his dad stepped forward and held his hands aloft, the voices and laughter died down to a quiet hum. The press of the crowd behind Yadriel’s back was odd and uncomfortable. He could feel everyone’s focus directed his way.

  Unable to help himself, Yadriel snuck a glance back over his shoulder. His mom gave him an encouraging smile while Julian flashed him a double thumbs-up, grinning ear to ear.

  “It is an honor to have you all here on the last day of Día de Muertos as we welcome our children into their new positions within our community!” his dad said, looking out across the crowd. “Thank you for joining us and the incredible young adults who stand before you.” He stood tall, his voice booming through the cavernous church.

  Yadriel was used to seeing his dad in his checkered shirts with tousled hair and tired eyes, working in the cemetery or dozing off on the couch. But tonight, dressed in his regalia, standing tall as he smiled and spoke with authority, Enrique looked like the rightful leader of the brujx.

  “Let us also take a moment to thank Lady Death for allowing all of us to be here together to celebrate you tonight,” his dad said as a quiet murmur passed through the crowd. “We keep you in our thoughts, every day, until we can be together again on Día de Muertos.”

  Yadriel looked up to where Lady Death stood in her alcove, draped in white. He thought of how she had looked when she appeared before him in the cave. Both beautiful and terrifying.

  “Tonight our children join a long line of brujx who have served Our Lady in healing those who suffer and guiding those who are lost,” his father continued, gesturing to the four of them. Yadriel did his best to stand taller. “Tonight, we celebrate unending life. Only together is that possible.

  “This is a special aquelarre for me because my son—”

  Yadriel’s heart leaped into his throat.

  “Our son”—his dad corrected, looking to Camila for a long moment before turning his gaze to Yadriel—“Yadriel, joins me as a brujo.”

  My son.

  A brujo.

  How long had he been waiting to hear those words? Having them said aloud, to a room full of brujx, made Yadriel’s legs feel weak. It was like a dream, but so much better.

  “I think it’s a special one for all of us, yes?” There was a murmur of agreement from the crowd. “The aquelarre celebrates transition. All of you are on the precipice between youth and adulthood,” he said to the line of young brujx. “Between uncertainty and confidence. Our traditions should grow and change with every generation. Just because we follow the ancient ways does not mean we can’t also grow. I have been shown that these past few days,” Enrique said. “I failed my son, Yadriel, as both a father and a leader,” he told the crowd.

  Yadriel held his breath, frozen in place by his dad’s sincerity and candor. There were murmurs in the crowd behind him, but Enrique continued on.

  “He tried to tell me who he was, but I didn’t listen, I didn’t understand.” He looked at Yadriel then. “But now I am listening, and I will learn to do better,” he promised.

  Tears prickled behind Yadriel’s eyes, but he forced himself to hold it together.

  “Growth isn’t a deviation from what we’ve done before, but a natural progression to honor all those who make this community strong.”

  Cheers and applause ran through the crowd. Julian’s enthusiastic whooping cut through every other sound. A laugh quaked in Yadriel’s chest. His heart was so full, it would surely burst at any moment.

  “It has been the joy of our lives to watch you grow into the incredible young people you have proven yourselves to be,” Enrique said, pressing his palm to his chest as he looked down at Yadriel. His brown eyes were soft, his smile adoring.

  Yadriel’s chin wobbled and his eyes stung, but he smiled so big it made his cheeks hurt.

  “Yadriel, you have shown great courage and strength, the likes of which no brujx has possessed in thousands of years,” his dad continued. “You sacrificed yourself to save your friends, your family, and, most telling, the lives of two strangers. To do that took more than just courage and strength. Our Lady saw the greatness in you that even I couldn’t. You will be a great brujo, and a great man, and we honor the sacrifice you made,” Enrique said in earnest.

  Yadriel didn’t know how to respond. He was dumbstruck and bright red, so overwhelmed that he had to look away. Greatness? Sacrifice? He didn’t know about all that. He had just been trying to do the right thing.

  “We also owe Maritza our thanks,” Enrique continued, shifting his focus to her. “She showed incredible strength in her own right.”

  Unlike Yadriel, Maritza was perfectly comfortable taking praise.

  She nodded in agreement with bold confidence. The proud lift of her chin eased some of Yadriel’s own nerves.

  “Your healing of Yadriel was another act of great love and fortitude. Something tells me we will see great things from you both,” his dad said before addressing all four of them and adding, “From all of you.”

  “He has no idea,” Maritza whispered to Yadriel from the corner of her mouth. She threw him a wink, and Yadriel grinned back.

  Knowing Maritza, he certainly hadn’t heard the last of how he owed her his life, but Yadriel didn’t mind. Without her, he would be dead. And while death wasn’t the end, he wasn’t done living yet.

  When Enrique spoke again, he looked at each new brujx in turn. “You are here because you have already proven you are exactly what you were meant to be. As you become full-fledged members of our community, we will help guide you to be the eyes, ears, and hands of Our Lady Death,” Enrique went on, looking at each of the four of them in turn. “We live in gratitude for the guidance and acceptance we can share with one another. We celebrate that we will move forward together as a stronger community than ever before.” He held his large hands out before him, his palms facing up. “Put your faith in Lady Death, and in your community, and we cannot falter. You have each been witness to that, and shown that to us, in your progress to this day.”

  Yadriel took a deep breath, anticipating the next step of the aquelarre.

  Enrique stepped back, making room for Lita to step forward. Parrot feathers of yellow, blue, and red splayed against Lita’s head before trailing off into the long tail feathers. She wore a turquoise dress, and jewelry of jade and gold adorned her wrists. A wide necklace of hummingbird featherwork hung around her neck and shoulders, iridescent and flashing in the light. As the spiritual leader of their community, she led the final rite of passage.

  When Lita spoke, she said the words in Spanish, her Cuban accent ringing. “May we live in faith; we are on the true path of our spirit. May we never fear death but remember we live on in the love we nurture in our time on earth.
May we preserve life and guide life to death as Our Lady wills it. May we heal and support one another in this life and the next.”

  Yadriel turned to face the crowd with the other three.

  “We welcome you!” Yadriel’s father called out, his arms open wide, smile wrinkling the corners of his eyes.

  The crowd erupted in cheers. Trilling gritos filled the air that set Yadriel’s dagger exploding with golden light. Maritza laughed next to him, rosary cupped in her palms as sparks shot up into the air and rained down around them. Yadriel’s mom kept having to stop her applause so she could wipe tears from her cheeks. Still, in a sea of faces, his eyes went right to Julian, and he couldn’t look away. His sharp grin. His burning gaze. It sparked a fire in Yadriel’s chest. It smoldered in his stomach. It flooded him with heat. Yadriel would happily let himself be consumed by Julian’s fire.

  Julian pinched his bottom lip, and a sharp whistle cut through the crowd before he punched his fist into the air and whooped loudly. Maritza bumped Yadriel with her shoulder, her laughter tickling his ear.

  Things weren’t magically fixed by an empowering speech, but it opened doors and built bridges. It carved out space for Yadriel to step forward and be who he was, as he was. There were still more obstacles to overcome and battles to fight, but Yadriel wouldn’t feel alone in it anymore.

  No, it wasn’t the end. It was a better beginning.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Writing this book was one of the best and most difficult things I’ve ever done, and it would’ve been impossible to do without my incredible support system.

  The first person I need to thank is my editor, Holly West. Cemetery Boys started as my option book and began with a very simple concept: What would happen if you accidentally summoned a ghost and you couldn’t get rid of them? When I was pitching ideas to Holly, Cemetery Boys was nothing more than a few sentences, a vague idea with a trans protagonist. Growing up, I never saw my own gender identity reflected in any books, and I thought it would be impossible to sell, but Yadriel’s story was the one Holly was most excited about, which blew my mind. Without her, this story would’ve never been written. Holly understands me and my writing; working with her is like having a second, much more organized brain.