Page 163 of Espíritu

“It’s called sleeping with one eye open, Diaz!” she growled.

From the armchair, Rio didn’t flinch. Didn’t even look up. “He’s not wrong.”

Julian’s head shot up. “Wait. Was that support? From you?”

“I didn’t say it was admirable,” Rio said, still focused on his controller. “Just effective.”

Flaca scowled at him. “Why are you so good at this? You never play!”

“I don’t play.” Rio smirked faintly. “I win.”

That earned him a round of groans from everyone but Luca, who clapped appreciatively. “It’s the quiet ones you have to watch,” he said wisely.

“Rio’s just trying to distract us while he steals all the stars,” Maritza said, narrowing her eyes. She was perched cross-legged on the floor, a cookie in one hand and the controller in the other. “He thinks if he says more than three words total, we won’t notice him pulling ahead.”

“You’re not wrong,” Yadriel murmured, watching helplessly as his Waluigi wandered around a cemetery. “I have no idea where I am.”

“You’re across the board,” Luca said cheerfully. “I changed the sign so you’d get trapped there. It was hilarious.”

Yadriel blinked. “Wow.”

“You deserved it,” Maritza added, “for being so good-looking all the time.”

“That’s not how Mario Party works!” Yadriel said, flustered.

“Jealousy is very on theme for the holidays,” Julian said, popping a cookie in his mouth. “I saw it in The Muppet Christmas Carol.”

“Can we get through one round without Julian quoting Muppets?” Flaca groaned.

“No,” he said with his mouth full. “Because it’s peak cinema.”

Rocky was cackling now, thriving in the chaos. “This is why this game ends friendships.”

“Which is why it’s tradition.” Omar grunted, squinting at the screen. “Also, whose idea was it to let Maritza use the golden pipe? That’s just violence.”

“You fools gave me power!” Maritza sang.

The room dissolved into a fresh round of shouting as Maritza launched herself across the board, triggered a duel, and lost to Rio by two milliseconds in a button-mashing contest.

“No!” Flaca howled. “She was our only hope!”

Rio just shrugged and passed Julian the pizza box. “Maybe next time,” he said.

Julian snorted, still grinning as he settled deeper into the cushions. He watched his friends—the way Omar dramatically flung himself back like he’d been assassinated, the way Rocky kept trying to steal from everyone equally just to keep things fair, the way Luca glowed with laughter, totally himself again.

And then there was Yadriel. Sitting beside him with a candle cookie in one hand, smiling like he couldn’t believe he was here, like it was all some small miracle.

This was what home felt like. Warm light. Full bellies. Dumb jokes. Chaos and cookies. It was the people who made the ache bearable.

Julian leaned his head back against Yadriel’s shoulder and exhaled. “God, I missed this.”

“Almost dying?” Rocky asked, deadpan.

“No.” Julian smirked. “Being here, with all of you.”

“GAAAY,” Flaca droned, pelting him with a pizza crust.

Rocky made gagging noises and pretended to throw up onto her empty plate.