8. Always Together
M ila was six years old, and Rafael was ten. The summer heat was relentless, but that didn’t stop them from running around the fountain. His legs were much longer than hers, but he always made sure to give her the illusion of a chase. He’d slow down just enough to let her get a step ahead, just enough for her to feel like she was faster than him.
She giggled, her long hair flying in every direction. “You’re slow!” she teased, sticking her tongue out at him.
“You think so?” he grinned, then lengthened his stride, catching up to her in an instant, but just as quickly, he slowed again, letting her lead for a few more steps.
Mila shrieked with laughter. “I’m winning!”
“Yeah, sure. You’re winning.”
But then, as she tried to dodge him and turn, her foot caught on a rock hidden in the grass, and she tumbled forward. Her knees scraped the rough ground, and her palms stung from the fall. Tears welled up in her eyes, and before she could even think to get up, Rafael was already there, helping her gently to sit on the edge of the fountain.
Her knees were bleeding. Her breaths came in jagged gasps as she tried to wipe her snotty nose with her sleeve.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Rafael murmured. His small hands reached for the cool water in the fountain, gently splashing it onto her scraped knees.
“It doesn’t hurt anymore, right?”
“It hurts,” she whimpered.
Rafael leaned down, kissing the spot where her knee was bleeding. It was quick, almost shy. “Do you feel better now?”
“Yeah. Thank you.” She says with a blush.
“Mila! Rafael!” Danica’s voice was full of warmth as she approached with two juice boxes and a tin of cookies in hand. Her long hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and she smiled brightly as she knelt down beside them. “You two should be careful running around like that, you’ll both end up covered in bruises,” she teased, brushing a few stray strands from Mila’s face.
Rafael nodded, but his gaze stayed on the ground. He never had a mother. His mother had died during childbirth. But Danica—Mila’s mother—she always made him feel like he was one of her own.
She handed the juice boxes to them both. “Drink up, you’ve worked up a sweat,” Danica said, smiling at Rafael as she passed him the juice box. “Cookies?”
Mila eagerly grabbed a cookie from the tin, holding it out to Rafael with a grin. “Do you want one?”
He hesitated for a moment, then took it. “Thanks.”
Danica smiled softly at them both, watching the kids with affection.
“Come on, you two. Let’s get you cleaned up and off to play again,” Danica ordered, and the kids followed her. They were always together. Always.