Return to Avonlea - Completed!

9. Best of Friends

We walked into the living room, where we had been less than 24 hours ago. The fire was crackling in the fireplace. I offered her a seat on the pale green sofa, and sat beside her tentatively. Though, not too close.

I wasn't really interested in the news, however tragical it was; I was just glad that Anne was here. But she seemed anxious to tell me, so I didn't try to spoil her visit.

"Mr. Phillips and Prissy Andrews are engaged!" she blurted out.

My jaw dropped as I stared at her in shock. "Why would Prissy want him? He's a creep!"

Mr. Phillips had been trying to get Prissy's attention for a couple of years now. It was disgusting. But I didn't know she liked him.

She nodded her head fiercely. "And Prissy has always wanted to continue her education, and become a teacher, not just a housewife!"

"Well, is Phillips going to keep teaching here then?" I asked.

Anne turned sharply, with confusion. "But he can't, not if he's married."

"That's only for women teachers."

"That's stupid!"

I looked down at my shoes and nodded in agreement.

"Well, I still want to be a teacher."

I coughed. "Maybe the law will change by then." I suggested. I hoped they did, it always seemed unfair.

She shrugged. "Anyways, all of Avonlea is invited, practically. Mr. Andrews is making this a big event."

I slumped down even further. I had to go to the wedding too? Great.

"Are you going?"

"I guess I'll have to." I groaned.

We both looked up as a log in the fire broke apart with a snap.

Anne stood up. "I need to go now, Marilla needs me to do a few things before dinner."

"Okay."

I followed her out to the front porch.

She turned to me. I stared at her, forgetting what I was going to say.

"Bye, Gil."

I grinned. "See you tomorrow at school tomorrow, Anne-girl. Thanks for, uh, bringing my lesson." My face instantly heated as I let the nickname slip.

Anne smiled. "You're welcome."

Then she walked off the porch, and down the road.

She looked back, and I waved to her.

She grinned, and waved, then continued down the road. I stood on the porch, leaning against the railing, and watched her leave.

In the distance, I saw her stop to pick something up; probably a bright fallen leaf. Then she skipped down the road out of sight, the picture of innocent imagination at work in the foreground of a crimson November sunset.

Often, people ruin beautiful things. Anne made them vivid.