Yours truly, Gilbert | 𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐁𝐋𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐄

sixteen

DIANA'S POV
***

I woke up before anyone else, and didn't waste another second getting dressed. I hurried out the door with my basket and a half-full stomach towards the schoolhouse.

I made it halfway through the woods, when I heard a figure jog towards me. I turned to see none other than Gilbert Blythe. "Hey Diana." He said approaching, and clearly out of breath.

"Gilbert?" I asked bewildered. "Are - are you coming back today? To school."

He shook his head and looked in the direction. "I just stopped by to get firewood for my father, and saw you coming. I wanted to ask... are you alright?"

I blinked with mouth slightly opened. This is exactly why I wanted to leave early. So I wouldn't bump into Harley, but I guess, by my luck, I bumped into Gilbert instead.

"I'm fine, but I really must be getting to school. Thank you, Gilbert." I said hastily. I started walking away from him, but he stayed planted there.

"You know school doesn't start for awhile." He called. "Plus the sun isn't even fully out-"

"Gilbert, please go home." I shouted back, feeling panic rise up in my voice.

There was a brief silence. He was quiet for a second before saying, "D-did I do something? I always feel like... like it's my fault."

I froze. What? I wasn't aware I was that rude, and what did he mean by 'always?'

For some reason, I felt like this wasn't just about me.

I whipped around, and doing so, made everything in my basket fall out. It wasn't the best one. "Oh no." I muttered under my breath, and sunk to the snow, piling things back in.

Gilbert rushed over and started picking up things too. I didn't know when a better time to ask him would be, so I would have to do it now.

"What do you mean, it's 'always your fault?'"

He shook his head. "I don't-" He sighed. "Diana, can you keep a secret?"

I wanted to smack him. Right. There. If only he knew how much damage that question had to me. I looked up unsure.

"I'm sorry. That was inappropriate to ask." He looked back down and placed two sticks of chalk inside the twine holder.

It was my turn to sigh. "It's alright. You... you can trust me, Gilbert."

He continued helping pick up my things. "It's just difficult right now. With my father and- and Harl-"

He paused, and his expression changed as quick as light. He went from cautiously talking, to looking like he was sick. My eyes followed his gaze looking down and saw what was in his hand. One of Harley's letters from her pen-pal.

I could feel as if I was about to throw up. A hard, cold chill went through my entire body, and I had never grabbed something so fast in my life. "That's not yours!" I shouted, clutching it close to my chest.

His eyes shot up to me and they were as wide as I've ever seen them. "Is it- are they- are they yours?" He asked panicking.