Page 165 of Espíritu

Flaca tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I live that tagline.”

Maritza placed a hand on Flaca’s knee, fixing her with a solemn look. “I’m obsessed with you.”

Rio handed out envelopes with handwritten IOUs—for skateboard repairs, rides in the Stingray, and one labeled LUCA: ANY SWEATER, ANYTIME.

Julian gave out a chaotic mix of thrifted finds and hand-drawn cards—including a collection of ridiculous self-care items for Flaca he got at the Dollar Tree: VapoRub, a unicorn sleep mask, a mini fan, fuzzy socks, and a candle labeled REGRET & REVENGE (CINNAMON SCENTED).

“For your healing era,” Julian told her proudly. “Or your villain arc.”

Omar had texted everyone custom Spotify playlists with their names in the titles. Maritza’s was pure chaos and swear words, Rocky’s had three remixes of “Gasolina,” and Luca’s was titled “Soft Boi Star Baby” and kicked off with “Space Song” by Beach House.

They opened everything in a flurry of ribbon and laughter. Maritza got socks with tiny skulls on them and immediately pulled them over her mismatched candy cane ones. Yadriel unwrapped a jar of Mexican hot chocolate mix and held it like it was sacred.

Luca handed Maritza a flat, painted stone. It had a skull doodled on it in shaky Sharpie.

“For your altar,” he said.

Maritza gasped like it was treasure. “Luca. I would die for you.”

And then Yadriel turned to Julian with a long, rectangular box in his hands.

Yadriel smiled shyly and passed it to him. “This is from me and Maritza. Mostly her. But also me.”

“YOU’RE WELCOME,” Maritza called, helping herself to another breakfast taco with one hand and gesturing vaguely with the other.

Inside the box was a dagger. Sleek, beautifully forged, the handle painted the same electric blue as the Stingray. On the flat side of the hilt, a tiny ghost on a skateboard had been etched and painted.

Julian let out a stunned breath. “No way.”

From the kitchen, Rio made a noise—somewhere between a sigh, a scoff, and a plea for divine intervention.

Maritza leaned forward, grinning. “It’s a portaje. A real one. Papí helped me forge it without my mom finding out, and Lita helped me enchant it. Took us all week.

“Yads commissioned it,” she added. “I just made it sexy.”

“It’s strictly for releasing spirits,” Yadriel clarified, possibly for Rio’s sake.

“Try not to stab yourself,” Maritza added.

Julian turned the dagger in his hands, awed. “This is … I don’t even know what to say.”

Yadriel was blushing. “We thought maybe it was time you had one.”

Julian looked at both of them. “It’s perfect.”

He leaned over and hugged Maritza first, then turned and kissed Yadriel, slow and lingering, full of warmth.

Julian grinned into the kiss. “Don’t worry, Rio!” he called without looking. “I promise not to stab anyone unless they really, really deserve it!”

“Mm-hm,” Rio said flatly, sipping his coffee like it was suddenly very necessary.

“Okay,” Julian said, standing. “Now it’s your turn.”

Yadriel blinked. “What?”

Julian grabbed his hoodie and slung his keys on his finger. “I have a gift for you,” he told Yadriel with a grin. “Come on.”

Yadriel blinked, curious. “Now?”