Sunshine and Lilly

Chapter Two: My Best Friends

Emma is my best friend. I have known her since my first day of fifth grade. I have known her through her ups and downs. Through my ups and downs. Through Sunday spa days, Monday lazy days, period cramps and figuring out tampons and pads. Emma and I have known each other for years and we know each other like we're each other's most read book. She's my rock. She's one of my best friends.
So that naturally means we will have discussions on passionate topics that demand immediate resolution, so I'm not surprised when on this Saturday afternoon, the words coming out her mouth are, "be realistic Lilly, Jack could'nt fit on the door with Rose. It was frigid cold and he couldn't even move," she gives me an expression that could only represent, 'duh'.
"She could have gotten off a little. Scooted over a bit.," I rebut.
"Oh yeah 'scoot over', fall into icy cold water. It wasn't a couch Lill," she forks her slice of cheesecake with an amused, but tired smile.
"I don't know. I wouldn't be able to live and let the person I love die. It seems selfish, doesn't it?" I ask her and pick up crunchy graham cracker crust to eat, the best part. She looks at my actions and shakes her head with a small yawn. 
"He was sacrificing himself for her! It's called romance Lilly. It's what people do. It's love," she sighs dreamily.
"It's call cinematic intrigue and I think this is just about your crush on a certain DeCaprio," I laugh at her expression shifts into a light blush.
"Leave Leonardo out of this please. You're just being pessimistic," her mouth filled with the creamy chocolate cheesecake.
I shake my head. We have this discussion every time she forces me to watch Titanic with her. It always happens the same, she cries, I bring out the Kleenex, hug her, and then she'll sputter out, "why did he have to die!" I agree with her, pointing out all the ways he could have lived and she rants on about the realism of the movie, ending up defending his death and we launch into this debate. Round and round we go.

I'm surprised we haven't yet been greeted by Alias. He usually finishes work before sun down and comes over for dinner since his Mum works late shifts at the hospital and Mr. Solado usually case briefings or meetings or something of the sort that has him home late and exhausted.

My mother always makes sure to have enough for his appetite and us girls. It's a routine that has lived since before I even left the womb.

I have known Alias since before I was born. Well, I can't say known, per se. He's known me. His Dad and my Mum went to school together. They were best friends and then became neighbors when Mr. Solado got married to a Pediatrician and settled down to adopt a baby.
Mum told me the story of when she first met Alias. He was three and shy. She said he had a cherub face and a giggle that brought out the sunshine. Mr. Solado and his wife Beth loved him from the moment they met him and did everything they could to make Alias theirs officially. I never knew the full story behind Alias' adoption but I do know I am beyond grateful for Mr. Solado's occupation in law and his overall stubbornness and determination because the adoption was rocky but they fought to take Al home with them.

Alias has somehow inherited that from the ginger-haired, 5'11, homebody that is the neighbor that has in more ways than one become a father figure in my life. While the stubbornness and diamond-in the rough personality was passed onto Alias, there was little otherwise. Beth, Alias' Mom always said that Alias looked the spitting image of her, and while I know this isn't possible, she's always happy to claim credit for the impossible. Alias is 6'5 and growing. At 18, I find it hard to not to ask, 'have you grown or have I shrunk since I last saw you?' almost every time we see each other. I tease him about being too tall for my treehouse and he teases me for my tiny-ness and well... being 15 and still having a treehouse. It's all good fun.

Alias is great. He has been a best friend to me through it all and I don't know what I would have done, had he not been in my life.

I have an entire paisley journal dedicated to Al. I have a rose one for Ma, and a lilac and peach for Em. For Aunt Leanne, I have a royal blue and gold one and a smaller duplicate for Uncle Smith. Those two are glued together.