Anne With An A

Chapter 2 - Peace at Green Gables

Three months had passed since Anne and Gilbert had kissed on the steps of Queens. Three months had passed since she last saw him. Three months had passed since she sent him her first letter. Anne wrote to Gilbert every week for two months, but she never got a response. She never got any letter from him while he was in Toronto. She had even started to believe she had imagined everything, there was no love confession, no kiss, no farewells, no promises of letters. Of course she knew she hadn't imagined it, she had pinched herself during those moments and Diana had also informed her numerous times that it had all happened just the way she remembered it. And still, no letters with a Toronto stamp had arrived for her in three months.

The moment Anne saw Gilbert Blythe standing there, she forgot those three months prior and how she cried and yelled and decided, over and over again, to never speak his name again. Time went still as Anne stood there looking at Gilbert, dress dirty and fiery hair tangled, in the stables where Belle rested.

— Hello, Gilbert. - Anne spoke casually.

As soon as the words left her mouth, the clock started ticking again. Those three months rushed to her mind and she stomped her feet angrily, exiting the stables with as much grace as a stampede of raging bulls. On her way out, Anne looked back to Marilla, remembering she had been there for the entire show.

— I will wash up and come down so I can tell you everything about Queens! - Anne said to Marilla with excitement in her voice. - I'm marveled to be here with family again. Just family.

Anne hoped that was a very clear message. She had no intentions of being near that young man. That dreamy and perfectly dressed young man. That ever so handsome and terribly adorable young man. Those thoughts had to leave her mind if she wanted to be taken seriously about never speaking to him again. But how could the thoughts leave her mind, if they were right? He was perfectly charming as ever and she longed for the soft touch of his lips on hers once again. Improper thoughts, but Anne was never that proper to begin with.

It was the perfect winter day outside, blooming snow covered the ice burnt grass, she could smell the frostiness in the air, making it crunchy to breathe, all those little cold particles rushing through her body like chills. December is such a lovely month. There's Christmas, of course, and there's great food, great conversation and, again, great food. Clearly, Anne was hungry after her unwanted adventure in the stables. It was lunch time now by the Green Gables clock, although she had grown accustomed to the Queens' way of having lunch a bit later, in the middle of books and loud conversation.

Anne dried her hair with a towel and tried to remember if Gilbert looked hurt, tried to recall if she saw a splinter of longing in his eyes. Perhaps she should've kissed him. Or maybe, he should've kissed her. Of course she looked rather undesirable and smelled awfully, but it was the very least he could do after three silent months. To be fair and certain, Anne hadn't allowed herself to think he might be back at Avonlea for the holidays, but she secretly hoped, nonetheless. Diana must've known she hoped to see Gilbert Blythe, but didn't say a word about it. It was a secret the wind kept hidden amongst fallen tree leaves.

It was easy to get lost in her own thoughts, far too easier to get lost in her imagination. The truth was Anne would have to speak to Gilbert again. She had planned to visit Bash and Delphine later that day or the next one and for sure Gilbert would be at home during that time. She braided her hair while she considered the possibility of ignoring their previous love affair related intentions, so they could be friends again. Perhaps she could even buy him a dictionary for Christmas and they could be on even ground, they could be friends after a few kisses, couldn't they? It was just a couple of kisses, after all, and they had been friends for long before that. However, perhaps they were always a bit more, just always a bit more close, always a bit more caring, always on the very cusp of being something else entirely.