₁.₀ SUPERCUT; gilbert blythe ✔

010.

Once again, Marianne welcomes the lunch break with relief. The other girls didn't forget what she had said about talking to Gilbert Blythe in the morning and did everything to make it obvious. Marianne could feel their displeased stares on her back - though she still acknowledges the possibility of her thoughts being quite exaggerated. Maybe they didn't care at all and everything was happening just inside her head, that's also a possibility.

Anne seems more moved than she does, but it's not exactly a surprise; after all, she is the one whose way of reciting a poem made the entire class laugh. Following her outside, Marianne cannot stop looking at her face, seeking for some clue, maybe how to start a conversation.

"They will come around, Anne," she starts, even though it's stupid, because she isn't much sure about it herself. "Even Marilla's warmed up to you, didn't she? And not after a very long time, too..."

The other girl turns to her with a grim face. "Well, I'm starting to think that the girls at school are a case much worse than Marilla Cuthbert."

"Fiddlesticks, as she would say. Until then, you'll have to somehow satisfy yourself with my company. Besides, you still have Diana."

Instead of answering, Anne groans, hiding her face in her hands. Hesitating whether to place a hand on her shoulder or not, Marianne catches a sight of a figure approaching them.

Alright, maybe no 'dibs' would stop her from talking to him, but she would certainly do just fine without Gilbert Blythe, or anyone at all, in the moment.

Before she has a chance to warn Anne, he's already at their side; glancing at him with a corner of her eye, Marianne notices a movement in the window behind his back; the other girls watching intensely, like there was anything to watch at all here.

Oh, how ridiculous it is.

"Hey, um, I, uh, thought you might like to try one." The boy extends his hand towards Anne, an apple lying there. "They're from our orchard. They're real sweet."

It's not like Marianne cares about it, but offering something to just one person while leaving the other to watch isn't a very nice thing. Especially when you're the other.

Anne doesn't rise her head, but there are some muffled sounds coming from her.

"I beg your pardon?"

Perhaps Anne realises that he won't go away until she gives him an answer. Rising her head at last, she focuses her gaze on Marianne, careful not to look into the boy's direction at all costs.

With her teeth clenched, she tries once again, "You need to walk away right now."

Being close enough, Marianne has no problem with hearing what she says exactly, but Gilbert seems even more confused. "I'm-I'm sorry. I, uh-"

"I'm not supposed to talk to you!"

Even though Marianne should be used to it by now, Anne's outburst startles her; but Gilbert doesn't seem to have similar feelings. He's a little surprised as well, but that's it. Amused with the other girl's behaviour, the corners of his lips rise slightly as he asks, "Why not?"

Anne groans in frustration. Grabbing her basket, she stands up and, before Marianne has a chance to stops her, walks away as quickly as possible.

Now, Marianne is left still seating there, not uncomfortable at all. It's a very irrational thought, but maybe, if she doesn't move an inch, the Blythe boy will forget she's here?

However, all her hopes disappear as he turns to her. "Perhaps you then, miss? I promise it's good."

For a brief moment, Marianne wonders if he had forgotten her name - otherwise, why would he call her 'miss'? But he's looking at her and she would like to end this conversation as soon as possible, so she forces herself to come up with some answer. "Oh, no, thank you. I'm not really fond of apples." She has no idea why she said it, though. It's a complete lie.