I had one person I put much of my trust in. To her, I told the dreams of my brother.

The usual September of South Cali consisted of a good amount of sunshine in the morning until the early afternoon. Instead, we were greeted by dark skies and cool breezes which was nice, considering how much I disliked the sun's harmful rays. October, on the other hand, had me dressed in a fluffy pink fairy's dress with wings and glittery makeup.

Lilly pressed her face on the screen door at the front of the house with a grin plastered on her face. We lived about a block away from each other and have been friends since junior high. She promised me we'd be dressing up together but she entered my house in her usual tee, sweater, and jeans. She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder, "ready?" 

A cramped expression washed over my face when I examined her while my oldest sister, Gemma, tried to apply the glittery things all over me—"Seriously Lilly?" I slumped my shoulders in protest but she kept her grin on and said, "I woke up late. Sorry." She didn't look all too apologetic to me.

Gemma laughed as she face-palmed me with more glitters, "You should've dressed up too, Lilly!" She was definitely having a good time dressing me up, as did Lilly and my other sister, Genevieve, as they watched amused. I pouted before looking at my watch I got for my sixteenth birthday.

It was half an hour to nine, not late but still not a comfortable time to walk to school. I hurried my sisters along while they chased after me. 

"I have to go," I whined and tried to stifle a laugh as I took a hold of my belongings in a hurried manner.

I hopped down the steps of the porch, following Lilly on the sidewalk. Her longer strides were difficult to keep up with but I managed to fall into step with her after a few houses. Again, I mentioned her promise to dress up and she laughed while trying to reason with me. My shoulder-length hair swayed in the air as I shook my head, trying to hide my laughter. The weight of the multitude of braids Gemma weaved early in the morning pulled on my scalp. I scratched lightly at my roots, even going as far as patting my head to get rid of the individual nipping-pain on my skin. Lilly swatted my hand to keep me from digging my fingers into my skin.

We were animatedly talking when I looked up just in time to say—"Good morning! Have a great day." to the dark-skinned woman in a bright orange head wrap and bistida -a long thin dress- decorated with black-colored tropical flowers, who slowly swept the fallen leaves off her lawn, hunched over, as she spotted us passing by. Everything about her home seemed so warm from the carrot-colored house to the burnt browns of the fallen leaves. She returned my upbeat smile with a sweet frail smile of her own and a soft greeting, raising her hand to the height of her shoulder. "Have a good day at school, dear," she tells us.

I've lived in this part of the city—I liked to label as the suburb of L.A. even though it isn't—for about seven years. Before that, I grew up in one of the many ghetto apartments that came with its crazy drama worthy of a prime time slot like neighbors having shouting matches, gunfights, and the occasional thievery. At that apartment, I lost a gold locket my mother gave me for my seventh birthday after she became an OFW, that's Overseas Filipino Worker.

The path to school Lilly and I often took goes past our middle school and down Holbrook Park and through the rear gate of the school. A bald man in a green polo gestured for our IDs which we flashed before quickly stepping through the closing gates. 

The weather had taken a turn for the cooler fall. At the strong brushes of wind, my toes curled and I tumbled to the side. My legs twisted around each other as I re-balanced myself. Lilly fell into a fit of laughter as she held on to me. Not only was she a head taller than me, but I was also clearly more lightweight but I loved fall.

A few minutes later, careening through the different crowds of students, we arrived at The Tree with only a minute to spare before the bell rang. Everyone crooned at my outfit, just as surprised as I had been this morning when I first saw it. But I bragged because Gemma made the masterpiece. She'd actually finished one of her many projects.

Robby approached me with a grin— "Are you supposed to be a princess?"

I found him more charming than he most likely intended. Shaking my head, "fairy but I guess, fairy princess could be it too."

"Looks like a princess," his grin grew wider as he insisted.

Lilly interjected, "Yeah, I was supposed to dress up like her." 

She put on a wide smile when I gave her an I-hate-you-for-not-doing-so kind of look.

The three of us saw each other again right before the third period. Lilly headed for a different history class, located in the same area as mine and Robby’s. We found her with a few other friends, then parted ways when the bell rang.

Lilly Buenaflor and I, we were never the best of friends. I didn't call her my best friend for various reasons until our senior year. It wasn't because I didn't like her sometimes or that I envied her too much. Those didn't weigh heavily as my past friendships did. Having a set distance between us enabled me to protect myself. It wasn't that I couldn't trust her, rather that I knew I trusted her already.

With her, I felt a sense of truth and realness within myself that I didn’t need to hide.

It's why I told her about my dreams.