Page 58 of Cemetery Boys

Donatello and Michelangelo jostled Yadriel, getting globs of drool on his jeans as they clamored for scratches. When he and Maritza wanted to go hang out around the city after school, Maritza’s parents usually made them take the boys. Even if they were gentle giants, they were terrifying to look at. People gave them a wide berth, always opting to cross the street than pass them on the sidewalk.

“You’re nothing but big softies, aren’t you?” Yadriel cooed. “Julian’s just a big baby, isn’t he?” He shot Julian a pointed look.

Julian scowled in response but still didn’t budge.

Maritza snickered.

“It’s not like they can bite you,” Yadriel pointed out. “Anyways, they can’t even see you.” He straightened before they could knock him over in their excitement.

“They can’t?” Cautiously, Julian moved closer. As if to check, he waved his hand in front of Donatello’s face. For a moment, the large dog sniffed at the air, but he went back to licking Yadriel’s knee. “How come your cat can, but they can’t?” he asked.

Yadriel looked down at them.

Michelangelo’s whole body wiggled when he was excited, so much so that his own tail kept smacking him in the face. Donatello, the bigger of the two, sat back on his haunches, eyes half-lidded, panting and drooling happily up at Yadriel.

“That’s why.” Yadriel grinned.

Julian laughed, his shoulders relaxing back into his usual air of careless ease.

“I resent your implication.” Maritza sniffed indignantly, bumping Michelangelo out of the way with her hip. “My dad rescued them from some sketchy guy outside of a grocery store trying to sell them out of a cardboard box. See their ears?” She rubbed her thumb against the short nub of what was left of Donatello’s right ear. “That’s called a battle crop. People do that when they’re breeding pit bulls for dog fighting,” she explained. “So there’s nothing for their opponent to rip off in a fight.”

“Same reason I keep my hair short,” Julian said casually as he ran his palm over his dark, buzzed hair.

Yadriel stared at him. Was he being serious? He eyed that curved scar behind his ear again.

“They were supposed to be trained as search dogs, the kind we use to track down tethers,” Yadriel told him. “But they didn’t pass the test.”

“That doesn’t mean I love them any less,” Maritza cooed, planting a kiss on top of their large, square heads.

“We’re just one redhead in go-go boots short of our own Scooby gang,” Julian said, looking pleased with himself.

“Are you implying I’m a Velma?” Maritza demanded. “I’m a Fred!”

“Obviously, I’m Fred,” Julian went on, as if he hadn’t heard her.

Maritza scoffed, and they dove headfirst into bickering about who was more of a Fred.

Yadriel shook his head. “Hey!” He had to snap his fingers before they’d shut up long enough to look at him. “So where are we going? Where do your friends hang out?”

“Bunch of places.” Julian thought for a moment. “But if they’re trying to lay low…” He trailed off, as if he didn’t like the answer. He gave his head a small shake. “There’s an underpass by the train tracks we hang out at; let’s try that first.”

“Is it walkable?” Yadriel asked. “We can’t exactly get on the bus with these two.”

“Yeah, we don’t have fancy bus passes.”

“Fancy” was the last word Yadriel would use to describe the flimsy card his parents purchased with his student discount.

“We walk everywhere, or ride.” As if remembering, Julian added, “Man, I hope they found my skateboard.”

Maritza shot Yadriel a criticizing look. He only shrugged in response.

“Hey, is your birthday next month?” she asked Julian.

He blinked. “Yeah, the thirteenth—Wait, how did you—?”

Maritza’s face was a picture of smugness. “See?” she said to Yadriel. “Told you.” With that, she turned and began walking in the direction of the train tracks. Donatello and Michelangelo led the way as her barrel-chested bodyguards.

“But how did you—?” He turned to Yadriel. “How did she know that?”