“I am the king of the playground!” The young boy announced, only four years old, as he stood on the top of the wooden castle (well, only a castle in his mind). “My name is King Pacey J Witter and all of you are my subjects!”

“Who made you king?” a blonde haired boy asked. “My name is Will Krudski and I am the king of the playground!”

Pacey jumped off his castle and attacked the intruder. The two of them tumbled onto the ground, fighting for a while until Will got a lucky blow and King Witter was defeated.

“I am the king of the playground.” Will gloated.

Pacey slunk off, humiliated at his defeat.

“I am too the king of the playground.” Pacey grumbled as he kicked a few stones.

“Yes you are.” agreed a soft, feminine voice. “I’m Joey Potter.”

“Joey is a boy’s name.” Pacey protested.

“Is not. You take that back!” The girl demanded, her chin trembling. “Besides what type of name is Pacey?”

Pacey stared at the little brown haired girl with the fiery eyes and decided he liked her. “Pacey’s a good name. And so is Joey. I like your name Joey Potter.”

The girl blushed a little and smiled a full, toothy white smile at Pacey. Pacey decided he liked the girl’s smile.

“Stupid Will.” Pacey frowned remembering his lost crown.

“Don’t worry.” Joey commiserated. “He can’t be the real king of the playground because everyone knows to be a king you have to have a queen.”

“Will you be my queen?” Pacey asked Joey.

“Of course. And tomorrow we’ll get the crown back from Will.” Joey stated.

“King Pacey Witter and Queen Joey Potter.” Pacey announced and decided he liked the sound of those words.

*****

He crept slowly and quietly behind her, sneaky. He glanced around careful in case any adults might be watching. Coast clear. His hands moved up towards the tempting strands of brown. It was an urge he had that he couldn’t resist, couldn’t deny. Besides it was going to be so much fun to see her reaction.

She felt the tugging of one of her pigtails, painful and sharp. Without even looking ten-year old Joey Potter knew who had perpetrated the crime.

“Pacey Witter!” she screamed in outrage.

The slightly chubby faced young boy stuck his tongue out at her and stood there, arms crossed and smug. Angered beyond belief Joey rushed forward and pushed him down onto ground before running in the other direction as the boy got up and began chasing her.

*****

Her school books were heavy and carefully trying to juggle them in one hand while her other hand flicked her hair out of her face, Joey Potter walked along the hallways of Capeside High. There were too many school books to carry. Maybe if she didn’t do so well in school Joey might have less books to carry. Of course the option of not doing well wasn’t even a consideration. Joey sighed and stumbled onwards with her load.

Suddenly out of nowhere she felt two hands lighten the weight she was carrying.

“Hey!” Joey cried in protest. “Give those back to me, Witter!”

“Never!” came the defiant yell as the brown haired sixteen-year-old boy ran off with Joey’s school books.

With a scream, announcing war, Joey took off at his heels.

Once again Pacey Witter had struck again resulting in a furious Joey Potter chasing after him.

*****

“Pacey J Witter, are you listening to me?” Joey Potter demanded.

“Yes mum.” The twenty year old man/boy mocked.

“Pacey! You’re going to be late for class! It’s a wonder you managed to pass high school and your first few years of college with this attitude.”

“C’mon Jo. Five more minutes.” Pacey pleaded.

“If I give you five more minutes, you’ll be demanding another five and then another five. Now get out of bed!”

“You’re such a slave driver.” Pacey complained to his roommate.

“Maybe but what with you do without me.”

“Sleep in.” came the retort.

Joey rolled her eyes. “I don’t know how I got to become best friends which such a smart-aleck, slack ass.”

“That’s because you love me.”

“No I think it’s because I’m eyeing the Nobel Prize for humanitarian work. I’m doing society a huge favor by making sure you don’t cause too much trouble. You’re a natural disaster in your own right, Pace.”

*****

“So what do you think?” Joey asked excitedly.

“Marriage.” The word came out slowly from Pacey mouth as if he was testing the sound and feel of it. “Marriage. It’s kind of sudden isn’t it?”

“We are almost thirty.” Joey reminded Pacey.

Pacey shrugged to indicated that age shouldn’t be a factor.

“Besides, haven’t you ever pictured us growing old together?” Joey queried. “Gray hair, sitting side by side as we complain and grumble about the deterioration of society and how things were never like this in the good ol’ days.”

“Of course I have.” Pacey stated.

“Then what’s so surprising about marriage? It’s essentially the same thing. Picturing or imagining you’ll spend the rest of your life with someone.”

“It’s just that I’m not sure if I’m ready for marriage.”

“Well I am.” Joey announced. “And don’t worry you’ll get used to it.”

“Is Owen who you really want to be with Jo?” Pacey asked. “I realize he’s a great guy and everything. The perfect man in all regards and I know he’ll take care of you but is he what you really want?”

“I can see myself spending the rest of my life with him. Growing old with Owen. So yes.”

“But you can see the same things about me.” Pacey protested.

“Yes but that’s different.”

“How is it different?” Pacey demanded.

“Because we’re not in love with each other.” Joey answered practically.

“But I am in love with you.” Pacey whispered but it was too soft for her to hear.

*****

Scattered photographs from an album lie at his feet. They have survived throughout the years, survived him, survived her, survived them. Every day he takes the photographs out and stares at them, obsessively. He reminisces about the girl he misses, the girl he is missing and the woman he has left behind.

He strokes the glossy paper that shows her hair, her skin. He has never had a chance to touch her like a woman whom a man is deeply in love with. He’s only touched her as a friend although his eyes have worshipped and adored her from afar; his eyes caressed her skin and loved her.

All through the years she’s never known.

Never known how he promised himself to her when they were four years old but now he’s a king without his queen.

She’s never known how he’s pulled her pigtails as a child because of the overwhelming need to touch her silky strands of hair and bury his face in its sweet fragrance, with the innocence of a child.

She will never know how he used to steal her school books because he knew that they were too heavy for her. And in carrying her books, in that old-fashioned kind of way, he could pretend they were a high-school couple.

Nor shall she know the mornings where she would insistently wake him up were exactly how he wanted to spend the rest of his life.

He has always pictured them growing old together, Pacey Witter and Joey Potter. Only in his mind it has always been Pacey and Joey Witter.

Only she will never know.

Never.

Today is her wedding day.

Today she will marry Owen, another man.

He has popped open a bottle of champagne in celebration and drunk the entire contents of the bottle before opening another bottle in celebration.

He remembers the gilded invitation that cordially invited him to witness the union of Owen and Joey. There was of course her voice on his answering machine begging him to be the ‘best man’.

Pacey sent them a toaster and his regrets instead.