Playmates: Wait For Me -

The reunion wasn't cinematic. There were no slow-motion runs through an airport. It was just a Tuesday.

Then came the summer before college. The air was thick with the scent of cut grass and the looming silence of departure. Leo was headed west for engineering; Maya was staying local for art.

"Always," she replied. "Now, let's go. We're burning daylight." Playmates: Wait For Me

"Sorry," he panted, leaning his head on her shoulder. "Thanks for waiting."

He always did. He’d pause at the summit of the "Dragon Tail" slide, looking back with a grin that showed off a missing front tooth. He’d wait until her hand gripped the safety rail before he took the plunge into the woodchips below. The reunion wasn't cinematic

The playground at Cedar Lane was a kingdom of peeling blue paint and sun-warmed plastic. For seven-year-olds Leo and Maya, it was the entire world.

As the years blurred, the playground changed. The blue paint was replaced by sleek steel, and their strides grew longer. Then came the summer before college

Leo sat down beside her, breathless from the walk from the station, looking at the girl who had been his anchor since they were small enough to fit through the crawl-tubes.