Page 164 of Espíritu

Omar groaned loudly. “Gross, dude.”

“Sorry we’re not emotionally repressed,” Maritza said cheerfully, snagging another cookie. “Now pass me the hot chocolate. I’m about to ruin your lives.”

“I thought it was nice!” Luca said through deep belly laughs.

Julian just laughed, warm and real.

He looked around the room—Rio and Omar bickering over the last slice of pepperoni, Rocky and Flaca cackling as they picked new characters for the next round, Luca snuggled under a blanket sleepy but smiling, Yadriel snorting beside him, Maritza curled up on the arm of the couch with a controller in her lap—and peace settled warm in his chest.

Julian smiled until his cheeks hurt. This was home.

EPILOGUEJULIAN

Julian stretched, groaning as he pushed off the blanket tangled around his legs. The living room was still dim, lit only by the glow of Christmas lights and the soft blue of the paused TV screen—Home Alone 2, frozen on Kevin’s smirking face. Around Julian, bodies were sprawled out on cushions and blankets, the aftermath of their sugar-fueled sleepover.

Rio’s voice called from the kitchen, disturbing the quiet. “Breakfast tacos in ten. If you’re not awake, you get the burnt ones.”

Maritza rolled off the air mattress with a dramatic flop to the floor. Yadriel sat up from his blanket nest and yawned.

Flaca, wrapped in a blanket like a burrito, groaned, “I like mine burnt, so joke’s on you.”

Luca was already kneeling by the scraggly Christmas tree in the corner, poking at the small pile of presents. “Julian, get up!” he said, practically vibrating. “We said we’d do gifts before breakfast!”

Julian dragged himself upright and squinted blearily. “What time is it?”

“Seven,” Rocky said, emerging from her blanket cocoon with a yawn. “Which is illegal.”

“Coffee,” Omar murmured, already halfway to the kitchen.

Flaca handed around mugs of coffee with theatrical flair. “Drink up. You’re all useless until your brains come online.”

“Is this instant coffee?” Rocky asked, grimacing at her cup.

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Flaca snapped. “It’s hot, it’s brown, it does the job.”

“Just like me!” Julian announced, grinning sleepily.

Everyone groaned. Rocky booed. Yadriel gave him a pity laugh.

Once they were caffeinated and semifunctional, they gathered around the tiny tree. The presents were a mismatched collection of paper bags, newspaper-wrapped boxes, and aggressively taped gift bundles.

Julian’s heart squeezed watching Luca pick through the pile with reverence. His hands were steady. His smile was real. No shadows behind his eyes.

“Here!” Luca said, handing Julian a box wrapped in a One Piece comic page. “I made this in art class!”

Julian opened it to find a bright green keychain woven from plastic laces, with a little ghost bead in the center. “DUDE. This is so sick!” He immediately clipped it to his keys. “You’re my favorite now,” he told Luca, who beamed up at him. “Sorry, everyone else.”

Rocky tossed a box into Julian’s lap. “Don’t ask where it came from.”

Inside were sneakers—the kind Julian had drooled over in a store window last month.

“No way, no way, no way!” Julian said, jaw dropping. “Rocky, did you—?”

“Shhh,” she said, stuffing a cookie in his mouth.

Flaca passed around small jars of body butter she’d whipped up. “Lavender coconut magic,” she declared. “For soft gays and softer skin.”

“Did you just invent that tagline?” Maritza asked.