Page 81 of Espíritu

“Just … stuff,” Julian hedged. He could feel Rio’s gaze burning into the side of his face.

“Don’t bullshit me,” Rio barked. “You sneak out in the middle of the night, and you can’t even tell me why?”

Julian’s hands balled into fists inside his pocket. “Can we just drop it?”

A tense beat. Then—

“You mixed up in a gang?”

Julian barked out a laugh before he could stop himself. “No!”

“Selling drugs?”

Julian gestured emphatically down at his scuffed sneakers, the sole peeling at the edge. “Do you think I’d be wearing these shoes if I had drug money?!”

Rio sighed, long and sharp. “I can’t protect you if you don’t let me—”

“Protect me?” Julian turned toward him, guilt and frustration tangling up in his chest. “From what? From being a screwup? From being a disappointment?”

“From yourself, mostly,” Rio said. “And whatever weird shit keeps following you around.”

Julian winced. He turned back to the window, his reflection staring back at him, tired and annoyed. The silence stretched between them. Julian wanted to defend himself, to lash out, but every excuse he could think of sounded hollow, even to him.

Rio exhaled. “You look like shit.”

Julian let out a hollow laugh. “Thanks.”

“I’m serious. You’re pale. You’re skinnier than you were a month ago. You’ve got bags under your eyes. You’re not sleeping. What’s going on with you?”

Julian’s chest tightened. The exhaustion, the disconnect, the gnawing emptiness that never quite left him. Susto. But he couldn’t tell Rio that, couldn’t explain the dark spots or the voices or the weight pressing down on him like a thousand invisible hands.

“I’m fine,” Julian muttered.

“Bullshit,” Rio snapped. “You think I don’t notice? You think I don’t care?”

Julian’s throat closed up. “I’m handling it.”

Rio slammed his hand against the steering wheel, the sharp sound making Julian flinch.

“I’m your brother!” he shouted. “Of course I’m gonna worry about you! You think I want to lose you again?!”

The words landed like a body check. Heat pooled under Julian’s sternum.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said quietly.

Rio made a frustrated noise, his grip on the wheel loosening slightly. The Stingray rolled to a stop in front of the high school, the building looming like a gray monolith in the morning light.

Julian reached for the door handle.

“Jules.”

He paused. Rio’s face had softened. Still tense, but raw now. Honest.

“Just … be careful, okay?”

Rio reached into his jacket and pulled out Julian’s phone. He tossed it to Julian, who caught it easily.

Julian nodded, fingers tight around the device. “Yeah.”