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For three divine months Anne and Diana are gloriously happy. Nothing dampens the glow of their new relationship, not even the cold bite of the approaching winter.
The moments stolen between the two of them feel sacred and private, like the pair of them are the only two people in the world. Their feet brush under the desks during class, and they sneak into the shed at lunch to share brief kisses. During church Anne’s hand will brush the waist of Diana’s dress as she prays, and Diana gently tugs one of Anne’s braids every time her parents turn away. The trinkets they gift each other are numerous – hair ribbons, pastries, stories, embraces. Every touch that had been casual before now lasts a little too long, like when they hold hands to say goodbye, or when they sit pressed against each other in class.
Anne knows that they should be more careful, but Diana makes her feel heroic and free like Anne never has before. It feels like a gust of wind has taken refuge inside her ribcage and is pushing her to do things she never thought she’d do – like playing softly with the hair on the back of Diana’s neck when their families are only two steps away.
Diana is the cautious one of the two; she’s the one who pulls away with red cheeks to make sure no one is peeking in the shed window, and she’s the one who walks away from Anne’s seeking touches when she doesn’t think it’s safe. Many would mistake her caution for fear but not Anne, who sees the way Diana relaxes completely into Anne’s embrace. No, her Diana is smart – she simply knows the risks is all. The wait only makes the moments when they can be together ever more thrilling, in Anne’s opinion.
For three divine months no one suspects a thing – not even Cole, because they don’t tell him. Anne feels guilty about that, because Cole had opened up to her, but both her and Diana agree in the beginning that, at least for a while, they want this beautiful phenomenon to be theirs, and theirs alone.
It stops being theirs and theirs alone on a Friday night, and it feels like the end of the world they know. Anne feels like there should have been some warning or change, but everything that night feels no different than the last Friday they’d spent time together. The sun is setting, casting its brilliant colours onto Diana’s marvellous face and creating shadows and creating shapes that make her appear otherworldly. Anne feels like she holds a miracle in her arms, or maybe an angel sent down by God Herself. As the light dances across Diana’s brow Anne follows it, tracing her fingertips gently across Diana’s closed eye lids and the soft slope of her lips. Diana giggles softly.
“That tickles, Anne.” She breathes, and Anne smiles. She pauses her exploration of Diana’s face, instead moving to gently brush her fingers through Diana’s hair. Anne’s own red locks are hanging loose down her back from where Diana had been playing with them before – she always takes great amusement in creating absurd hairstyles for Anne to wear during their time together. She does this on Fridays especially, when the two have the most time to spend together.
Fridays are special because the girls have no chores or school to attend to, so they can stay out longer. Anne used to spend her Fridays reading, but now her and Diana have made a habit of hiking out to the cliff that Anne had showed Cole. They won’t be able to do it for much longer – it hasn’t snowed yet, but everybody in Avonlea can feel it in the air. It can be seen in the sky, too, as the sun sets early (both girls know their families are more lenient about curfew at this time of the year). Soon it will be too cold for Anne and Diana to spend much time together other than school, and they’re both dreading the separation.
“Anne.” Diana says quietly, breaking the silence and Anne’s thoughts. When she looks down, Diana is looking up at her from her lap, a worried look on her face. “Have you ever thought about what we’re doing?” She gestures loosely between herself and Anne. “Like, with all this. How do we know that we’re doing this right? Should we really be – be kissing and spending time so much time alone? My mother has told me about courtship with boys, and all of this is against the rules, I know it. Is this right?”
Only a couple of months ago this question would’ve sparked a panic in Anne, but now she knows that this is only Diana thinking things over through the only lens she knows how to use. Of course she’d be worried about the propriety of their relationship – regardless of the fact that most of “proper” society would think them ill for it in the first place. Honestly, Anne’s impressed Diana managed to work up the guts to ask.
Anne takes a moment to find her words.
“Well,” Anne begins, “I don’t think it correct to apply that same logic here. I am most certainly not a boy, and neither are you.” At Diana’s blank look Anne elaborates. “See, boys always have to keep their distance around girls – that’s why they sit on the other side of the classroom, right? But we girls can act however we want around other girls – ergo, we don’t need to worry about following the same rules.” Diana ponders Anne’s explanation for a moment before nodding.
“I… suppose that does make sense.” Suddenly, Diana blushes. “Well, Anne, since we don’t have to follow the same rules, then…” Her eyes flicker down to Anne’s lips, and Anne smiles.
“Diana Barry, are you asking me to kiss you?” Anne teases, and Diana’s cheeks somehow turn an even brighter shade of red. Anne finds it adorable that, no matter how many times she kisses Diana, the other girl is always as flustered as the first time. When no answer comes from Diana, Anne leans closer, so her face aligns over Diana’s. “Well, Miss. Barry, if you insist-“
Diana cuts off Anne’s sentence by grabbing the back of her head and pulling in her down into a kiss. Anne smiles into Diana’s lips – she’ll never tire of kissing her. Diana tastes like what Anne can only imagine ambrosia is like.
The two girls are so caught up in their embrace that they forget, for a moment, to be wary. Neither of them see or hear who approaches until he is practically on top of them.
“I – Anne!” Gilbert exclaims, dropping the small sack he’d been carrying. Anne and Diana fly apart like they’ve been burned – Diana’s head smacks rather hard on the ground. Anne reaches out to help her but at the last minute she notices Gilbert’s eyes on her and flinches. “Diana! I – I didn’t see you two, I’m – what is-“ Gilbert continues before abruptly cutting himself off. His eyes dart quickly between the two of them and there’s something unreadable in his face.
For a moment no one says anything – instead they all just stand, frozen.
“You guys were –“ Gilbert begins shakily, breaking the silence. He clears his throat and continues, stronger. “You guys were kissing? That’s – what? How…?” So many questions tumble past his lips, but none of them hold any substance. Anne looks to Diana for support, but the dark-haired girl has her head turned to the ground, knuckles white from the grasp she has on the grass below her.
Anne swallows hard. It feels like all she can hear is the loud thudding of her own heart – the noise is so deafening Anne thinks that this must be just as loud and oppressive as what Pandora heard when she opened her box.
What is she supposed to say? How can she deny anything? The situation really had been quite clear – there’s no excuse that could explain what Gilbert had seen! She can feel a dark memory pulling on the edges of her mind, but this really isn’t the time for that. Diana needs her to be strong.
Anne pulls a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth. She focuses on the feeling of her ribcage expanding and thinks about what she’d told Diana months ago – nothing will keep them apart. Not even Gilbert Blythe.
Anne is nowhere near serene or even calm when she opens her eyes, but she is ready. Steadily she walks over to where Diana kneels in the grass.
“Diana.” She murmurs, lifting the girl gently. “Go home.” Diana looks at Anne for the first time since Anne interrupted, and her dark eyes look so distraught that Anne feels like she’s been struck.
“Anne, are you sure?” Diana asks breathlessly, not-yet-fallen tears hanging in her eyelashes. Anne nods firmly. With only one backwards look at Gilbert, Diana is off, sprinting home. Anne immediately misses her warm presence, but she knows that Diana isn’t used to dealing with such intense situations.
Gilbert doesn’t say a word throughout the proceedings, he only watches Diana leave silently giving Anne a chance to study his face. He doesn’t look angry he looks… upset? No, that’s not quite right. Distressed, maybe, or confused? He turns back to Anne before she can firmly decide on the right adjective.
“Anne-“ He starts, but Anne cuts him off.
“Yes. We were kissing.” She says, firmly. Anne tries to imagine that she is as immovable and emotionless as a rock – it doesn’t quite work, but it helps. Still, Gilbert doesn’t look angry, which gives her the courage to continue. “We- I love her. In a romantical way.” She clarifies, as if friends went around kissing each other on the daily. Gilbert’s eyebrows rise then fall, then rise again. A journey of emotions travels across his face, and there’s no way Anne can follow it all.
“I-I don’t know what to say, Anne.” He finally replies. “Wh-what should I say? It’s – It’s…” He takes a shaky step backwards, and suddenly an imagine flashes through Anne’s mind. It’s Gilbert, running back to Avonlea and declaring Anne and Diana to be ill with a sickness of the worst kind. The rational part of her mind doesn’t truly believe this will happen, because Gilbert is a trustworthy, kind young man who has never been anything but amiable towards Anne even when she was being rather rude. But Anne isn’t listening to that rational voice like she’d promised she would in order to protect Diana. Instead, she’s listening to her heart – the part that never really stopped being vulnerable little girl, left all alone in an orphanage.
“Say you won’t tell anyone, Gilbert, please.” Anne’s composure cracks and she finds herself begging. “I’ll do anything, just please say you won’t breathe a word to anyone.” To her utter embarrassment, tears start to fall from Anne’s eyes. “She makes me happier than I’ve ever been in my entire miserable, no-good life, and that – that can’t be bad. It can’t! Surely you see that… I- I don’t want to lose this, or-or Green Gables, or the Cuthbert’s…” She trails off pitifully, a sob ending her words. Internally she’s cursing herself – surely, she could say something more intelligent on the subject, given how many times she’s spoken about it with Cole and Aunt Josephine, but nothing manages to make it past her stupid, useless brain. Suddenly, a thought occurs to her. “Or- or if you must, please leave Diana out of it. I – I’m used to leaving and not having a home, but she isn’t. S-so just say it was me and a girl you didn’t recognize. Please, Gilbert…”
Gilbert, who has been looking at her with an almost comical expression of shock through her entire speech, takes a step towards Anne, arms lifting to do something. Anne struggles not to flinch. It turns out, all Gilbert wants to do is gently tuck a strand of hair hanging in front of her face behind her ear – Anne quietly lets him. Now that he’s so close she can properly identify the emotion strangling his handsome features – she can’t be sure, but she’s pretty sure it’s heartbreak.
“…Carrots.” He murmurs brokenly. “Oh, Anne, of course I won’t tell anyone. I- I’m sorry.” Oh no, now there are tears in his eyes too. “I – I’m sorry!” Then Gilbert has his arms wrapped around Anne in a hug, causing her to squeak in surprise; this is the closest she’s ever been to the boy. She’s so stupefied that she stops sobbing entirely (although tears still fall down her cheeks and onto Gilbert’s jacket). Hesitantly her arms come up to wrap around Gilbert’s back, although she doesn’t dare hold too tight in fear that he might change his mind and snatch his embrace away.
They stay like that for a while – eventually Anne gets the courage to fully return Gilbert’s hug, and that’s when she feels him really let go, just not in the way she was expecting. For some reason Anne cannot fathom, Gilbert is sobbing into her neck; she can even feel the tears running down her neck. It’s bewildering – shouldn’t Anne be the one sobbing? Finally, just after Anne starts to feel the back of her scarf sag with Gilbert’s tears, he speaks up.
“Please forgive me, Anne.” He says, muffled by the fabric of her scarf.
“Why, forgive you for what, Gilbert Blythe?” Anne demands, shocked. Maybe it’s a bit much to use his surname, but that’s what Marilla always does when she wants a straight answer, so Anne figures she’ll try it out. “Or – have you changed your mind? A-about telling?”
Gilbert jerks back out of her scarf, although his arms are still around her.
“No! No, Anne I- I wouldn’t tell. I won’t tell.” He says firmly, his fingers clenching in the back of Anne’s dress. “I’m sorry I made you panic; I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I know better.” To Anne’s surprise, Gilbert sounds genuinely angry with himself. She opens her mouth to interrupt but Gilbert rushes on before she can. “No, Anne, I know better! Not everywhere is like Avonlea; I’ve seen… love,” he seems to choke on the word, ”like yours and Diana’s before, enough times to know it’s not wrong.” Suddenly Gilbert’s looking into Anne’s eyes with such intensity that she wants to shy away from the attention. “You’re not wrong, Anne. I just…” He huffs in frustration. “I just let my emotions get the better of me.”
At that Gilbert detaches himself from Anne, bringing up a sleeve to wipe at his red eyes. Now it’s Anne’s turn to stare in shock – this has greatly surpassed everything Anne could have imagined (not that she would’ve ever imagined telling Gilbert Blythe). Quietly she draws her handkerchief out of her pocket and hands it to him so he can wipe his face – their hands brush as she passes it over and Gilbert jerks back like he’s been burnt.
“Your feelings?” Anne hesitantly questions as Gilbert blows his nose. Suddenly, Gilbert’s face is aflame, and although he tries to hide it in Anne’s handkerchief, she still catches a glimpse. She doesn’t know what that means, and right now she’s not sure she wants to. Her head hurts (as it often does when she cries), and now that she’s thinking about it, Anne can feel the heavy press of fatigue on her entire body. When she looks to the sun she finds that, at some point during her and Gilbert’s discussion, it had fallen completely behind the cliff. There’s still light as it hasn’t quite crossed the horizon, but Anne can no longer see the colours that had so entranced her not so long ago.
“Oh no!” Anne moans, hurriedly collecting her slate and books from the ground where they’d been abandoned. As she leans down to gather them into her arms her hair falls forward and over her head, reminding Anne that it isn’t in its usual braids. She curses and stands straight to braid it.
She tries to be quick, but her fingers just keep fumbling in her hair. There must still be adrenaline in her system because no matter how hard Anne wills it her fingers will just not stop shaking. She’s about to give up when suddenly there’s another pair of hands around hers.
“Let me.” Gilbert says, already braiding before she can reply. Anne’s so surprised she doesn’t even think to complain about the boy’s sudden boldness. Does Gilbert really know how to braid?
It would seem that he does as he deftly braids one side of her hair and then the other. It’s not as fast or nimble as Anne can do it, but it’s still surprisingly quick for a boy. When he turns her around to face him Anne smiles at him hesitantly, feeling the dried tears on her face crack with the motion – it seems like many of her expectations of Gilbert have been defied tonight.
“Thank you, Gilbert.” Anne says softly, barely above a whisper. He smiles at her, uncertainly at first but then stronger as he realizes just what she means. Anne isn’t just thanking him for braiding her hair, she’s thanking him for his discretion, his comfort, and his understanding.
“You’re welcome, Anne.” Gilbert replies, just as softly. “Please tell Diana what I told you – I would never do anything to hurt either of you. Make sure she knows that.” Anne nods slowly, ruminative.
“You can tell her yourself, Gilbert.” She finally says. “At school on Monday – you can tell her yourself, and we’ll swear you to secrecy. Yes, that sounds like a magnificent plan.” Nodding decisively, Anne doesn’t even look to be sure that Gilbert agrees. Instead she turns and starts to head to Green Gables, determined not to waste any more time. She doesn’t want to worry the Cuthbert’s more than she must; not with Matthew’s heart the way it is.
“Anne!” Gilbert calls after her. “Anne, wait!”
Anne doesn’t turn around – she’s tired of this conversation and maybe it’s dreadful of her, but Anne just wants to be curled up in her bed at Green Gable’s already. Maybe she’ll read a book or pen a letter to Cole that she’ll never send (because her and Diana have already agreed that they want to tell him in person).
“Anne – oh, fine! I’ll see you on Monday!” Gilbert yells, and Anne waits until she hears his footsteps fully retreat before slowing to stop. Her breath comes faster, and she feels a sob coming on, although no tears follow it. Thank God Gilbert isn’t around to see this; thank heaven for small mercies. He’s seen enough of her tears as of late.
Now that there’s no one around Anne’s free to lose her cool even more than she had before – her dry sobs turn to hysterical laughter and back again. She almost yearns for the numbness that follows the intense fear of a flashback. At least then she’d know it would end – this feels like it’s going to go on forever.
Eventually, however, her breath returns to her and she’s able to stand on shaky legs. Her heart no longer feels like it’s going to beat out of her chest and her mind no longer feels like a tangled ball of yarn, so Anne assumes she’s in the clear. The walk home feels longer than it ever has before, but she makes it, and Matthew and Marilla are only a little worried.
When Anne goes to bed that night, she doesn’t fall asleep very quickly, despite the fact that her mattress is just as comfortable as before. Instead her mind wanders, out the window and past the fence sectioning off Green Gables. It takes her over the woods and past fields until she’s in Diana’s room, lying beside the girl she loves. Anne imagines that they’re holding hands while Anne wipes away Diana’s tears, her hand lingering on the other girl’s soft cheek. That’s where Anne falls asleep.
--
The next day is absolute and utter torture – not once does Anne have the chance to escape to the Barry’s farm. She can only imagine the agony Diana is in, just waiting for someone to come banging on their door and tell her parents about what she’s been doing. Every fibre of her being yearns to be there at Diana’s side, comforting her, but instead she’s stuck inside, baking for the week alongside Marilla. Maybe she would feel better if she could be outside, working out her energy alongside Jerry, but Marilla insists that she needs Anne help and that the men are just fine without her. So, Anne is left pounding out her frustrations into the dough. Marilla doesn’t ask what’s wrong, by now very familiar with Anne’s ever changing moods and not willing to invite trouble into her life where it isn’t already. Anne ends up stewing in tense silence for the whole day, and no one dares ask her why.
Sunday is better, because Anne is finally able to get away, and it’s all thanks to the angel that is Jerry Baynard. Well, angel might be going a bit far because there’s no way he came from heaven, but at least he’s good for something.
The two are put on farm chores together because Matthew hadn’t been feeling the best that morning (and the part of Anne that isn’t wholly focused on Diana is worried about that, but Marilla assures her and Jerry that Matthew is fine), and at first Anne is just thankful to finally be doing something useful with the restless energy that’s plagued her all weekend thus far. But then, halfway through moving hay, a thought occurs to Anne.
“Jerry,” she begins, heart beating fast as it always does when she comes up with a plan she knows could get her into trouble. “I need your help. Desperately.” She adds when he looks at her skeptically.
“What?” Jerry asks suspiciously. “I’m not getting into trouble for you.” Anne pouts. Well, she’ll just have to convince him that he won’t get in trouble, then.
“You won’t!” She assures him, hoping that this doesn’t turn out to be a lie. “I need to go to the Barry’s – it’s a matter of utmost importance. I need to see Diana, Jerry, I need to.” Seeing that he still isn’t convinced, Anne decides to change her tactics. “Think of it as a daring adventure, Jerry! You’re a courageous knight who must create a distraction so that the beautiful Princess Cordelia can escape! Like Lancelot, form Arthurian legend!” Despite her earlier temper Anne finds herself becoming excited – she does love a good knight story. Jerry, too, looks interested despite himself.
“Lancelot? Who’s that?” He asks inquisitively, slowing his hay throwing to a halt. Anne gasps.
“You don’t know Lancelot?”
“Uh, no.” Jerry shakes his head. Anne clutches her hands dramatically to her heart in pity.
“Why, you’re missing out on so much! I can’t imagine living in a world without Lancelot or Merlin!” Anne sees Jerry starting to look annoyed, so she hurries on to her point. “Well, Jerry, if you don’t tell Marilla that I’ve gone to the Barry’s, then I shall tell you all about King Arthur and Lancelot. But only if Marilla doesn’t find out.” She warns. Extending her hand Anne waits for Jerry to shake on their deal, sure she’s persuaded him into agreeing. He ponders for a moment before hesitantly shaking her hand. His grip is weak but Anne’s isn’t – he winces at the pressure with which she crushes his hand.
“Sure, Anne, I’ll be your knight.” He says after freeing his hand. Immediately Anne breaks out into a grin, already practically throwing herself down the ladder in the barn. “But just this once!” Jerry calls after her – Anne doesn’t reply, too caught up in the excitement of seeing Diana.
For a moment she feels guilt for calling Jerry her knight – that’s Diana’s title, after all. But who said she can only have one? It feels weird to compare her relationship with Diana to that which she has with Jerry (ew), but he is one of the few people her age she can trust. Plus, how can she say no to someone who’s so ready to play along without calling her a freak?
--
The trek to Diana’s goes by in the blink of an eye – Anne feels like she practically flies there, her feet barely touching the ground. She must look disheveled when she knocks on their door because Mrs. Barry gives her a strange, seeking looking, but Anne doesn’t care. She doesn’t have to say much for Mrs. Barry to call Diana down – they’re let go with only a small admonishment to not stay out too long because it’s getting cold. From the moment Diana walks down the stairs she keeps her face turned to the ground – Anne can’t even catch a glimpse of whatever emotion is on her Diana’s face.
It’s not until they’re halfway to the tree where they’d had their first kiss that Diana looks at Anne. Her eyes are filled with tears and there are dark circles under her eyes – Anne imagines she hasn’t been able to sleep a wink since Friday. Diana’s lips, which are usually pink and kissable, are now torn and ripped to shreds from constant chewing. Anne winces at the sight and brings a hand up to gently cup Diana’s face; the other girl flinches away before she can.
“Oh, Diana…” Anne murmurs. “I’m so sorry! I should’ve come earlier!” Throwing her arms around Diana Anne brings her in close. Then, for the second time in as many days, Anne has someone sobbing into her scarf.
“Oh, Anne!” Diana cries. “Whatever will we do? G-Gilbert’s going to tell everyone and-and then what?!” Anne tries to speak up but Diana is too hysterical to hear a word. “I know you said we could run away together b-but we’re only fifteen! I can’t run away, what about Minnie May?” From there Diana breaks into sobs and maybe she’s still speaking but Anne can’t hear anything. Her heart aches for Diana – oh, how could she have left her to deal with this all alone?
“Diana.” Anne prompts, louder when Diana doesn’t respond. “Diana! Oh, Diana, my love please stop crying! Gilbert isn’t going to tell anyone – he’s promised as much, and I truly believe him.” Anne thinks back to how gently he fixed her hair, and the tight way he hugged her. “He- he said he would never do anything to hurt us, and that includes you.”
Finally, Diana takes what seems like her breath in forever. Leaning back a little to look Anne in the face (although keeping her arms wrapped around the redhead), something in Diana’s face loses some of its previous tension.
“Really?” Diana whispers. “Gilbert said that?” Anne nods.
“Yes, he really did. So, Diana, we are perfectly safe. Nothing has changed, not really.”
All the tension in Diana’s face disappears as she smiles, relieved, and Anne can’t hold back anymore. She presses her lips to Diana’s in a gentle kiss. When they pull apart they just look at each other for a moment, giddy with relief. Anne memorizes the way Diana looks, because she wants to have every part of Diana committed to memory.
“What else did he say?” Diana asks. Anne scrunches up her face, thinking back to two nights ago.
“He also apologized for scaring us like he did – he said his emotions just got the better of him,” Anne says, “although I’m not quite sure what he meant by that, now that I think about it.”
Suddenly Diana freezes, and the anguish must not have retreated afar because it’s now back on her face.
“H-he said that?” Diana asks, and Anne frowns in confusion.
“Yes, Diana, he did, that’s what I just said. What do you think he meant?”
Diana laughs softly but it’s bitter and not like her usual musical giggle that lights up Anne’s world.
“He likes you, Anne.” Diana says softly. “I know you always deny it, but it’s true! I can’t imagine what it would feel like to see the girl you want to court kissing another girl…”
Anne goes to argue like she always does, because Gilbert Blythe does not like her, but then she pauses. Diana has no reason to lie about this now – it brings no benefit to her to make Anne believe that Gilbert has a crush on her, not when Diana is the one Anne is with. Besides, that does explain Gilbert’s strange, uncharacteristic behaviour. Normally he is nothing but a gentleman, always smart and well-spoken and just the right amount of friendly, nothing like the chaotic mess he’d been on Friday. Maybe Diana’s right (which she usually is – Anne’s partner is one of the smartest girls at school, behind Anne of course).
But, is Gilbert liking her a good thing a bad thing? Anne can’t identify the feelings tumbling within her ribcage and swimming through her thoughts. For a moment she imagines a different future, one where she hadn’t kissed Diana on that warm summer day. In it she still beats Gilbert at all the spelling bees but this time, when she wins, he looks at her with red cheeks and bright eyes before wrapping her up in a victorious embrace and swinging her around. Her heart beats faster at the thought and the feeling of breathlessness that she’s come to associate with Diana’s presence appears. The dream isn’t better than what she has with Diana but it’s different, and Anne doesn’t quite know what to do about that.
Diana knows Anne so well that, when she sees the shine in the redhead’s eye that usually indicates daydreaming, she immediately knows what Anne’s pondering. Pulling away from Anne’s embrace she takes a few steps back, her face blank.
“I completely understand if you want Gilbert to court you – I’m sure he’d be happy to, and it’s a good decision. He’s going to be a doctor, so he can provide for you; he’s a safe choice. I’ll step aside if that’s the case.” She says in what would sound like a calm voice to anyone but Anne, who knows better.
“What?!” Anne exclaims, taking a step towards Diana. The other girl sways like she’s thinking of taking a matching step backwards, but she stays where she is. “Diana, what on Earth are you talking about? I don’t want to court Gilbert!” Diana nods, like this is what she’d been expecting to hear.
“You were thinking about it, Anne, and even you have to admit you’d be safer with him. Just imagine, you could hold his hand whenever you wanted. He could even come over for supper with Matthew and Marilla.”
Anne doesn’t imagine it, because she doesn’t want to. Oh, she could imagine it – imagine touches that no longer must be secret, and imagine getting approval from the Cuthbert’s, but Anne refuses to. It doesn’t matter what she could have with Gilbert because it’s never going to happen. Not when Diana still exists – she takes up all the space in Anne’s heart and then some, leaving no room for Gilbert Blythe. Besides, Gilbert could never compare to Diana, the goddess of Avonlea (as far as Anne’s concerned).
“Yes,” Anne admits, “I thought about it. But you know me, Diana! My mind is made to daydream – why, in class last Friday I imagined climbing up to the very highest tip of the schoolhouse and jumping, just to see how the wind would feel in my hair! But I’m not going to do that, now am I?” Anne takes another step forward and cups her hands around Diana’s face – her cheeks are warm on Anne’s chilled hands. “I have no interest in Gilbert Blythe, not so long as you’re around. You, Diana Barry, are my bosom friend, my soulmate, my one and only.”
Diana smiles hesitantly.
“Really?” She asks softly.
“I swear it!” Anne exclaims, grinning widely now that Diana has cheered up. “I’ve never wanted the conventional life – I want to be a heroine, Diana Barry, like from a story, and the only one who's made me feel that way is you.”
Now both of them are grinning ear to ear, and it doesn’t drop from either of their faces until they go to bed that night.
--
The next day at school Anne is equal parts nervous and excited – this really feels like the climax of whatever chapter she’s in now (because all of life is a story). Either Gilbert is going to keep his promise and keep their secret, or by tomorrow Anne and Diana will never see each other again. Only a couple months ago that would have sounded ever so tragically romantic to Anne, but now that it’s her life she’s not so sure. Now it sounds only tragic, and she doesn’t think tragic is such a good thing anymore.
No one says anything to her, but the Cuthbert’s and Jerry are all happy to see in her in a better mood than on the weekend. No longer is she moody and quiet, instead she’s even humming as she puts on her shoes. The entire way to her and Diana’s meeting spot Anne is singing – it’s all nonsense songs she’s made up herself, but she doesn’t care. Today just feels like a day to sing – it could be her last day to do so, after all.
When Anne sees Diana standing at the fork in the path between the school, Green Gables, and the school she throws herself into the other girl’s arms. They both giggle as they nearly fall to the ground – they only stay standing because Diana knows Anne and has the forethought to brace herself.
The morning between their meeting and lunch seems to pass painfully slow. Every equation seems to take an ice age to finish, and when Ruby stands up to read aloud Anne has to stop herself from slamming her head down into her desk, because while she loves the blonde girl today it sounds like Ruby is reading one word for every two minutes that pass.
It doesn’t help that every Anne can’t help but peek Gilbert, trying to gain some idea of what he’s thinking, but every time she looks to the opposite side of the classroom his back is studiously turned to her. She can’t stop thinking about what Diana had told her yesterday – does Gilbert really like her? It seems like such an absurd idea that, even though Anne believes Diana and had imagined it herself before, she can still barely fathom it. It’s makes the upcoming meeting ever more nerve-wracking, but Anne doesn’t let that deter her. This time she is not going to cry, that’s for certain.
When they’re finally released for lunch Anne has so much energy she feels like she could power a thousand potato light bulbs. She wants nothing more than to go outside and scream to the sky until her lungs feel empty of the noise trapped inside her, but she knows that would just bring unwanted attention, so she settles with wringing her hands back and forth instead. Gilbert seems to take entirely too long to grab his lunch and none of Anne’s glares seem to be effective in making him quicken his pace.
Her and Diana have just started heading out (intending to go to the back shed) when Ruby catches them at the door.
“Anne, where are you going?” Ruby asks, tilting her head inquisitively.
“Oh, Ruby!” Diana exclaims, sounding much too surprised considering they usually sit with Ruby at lunch. Anne discreetly elbows Diana in the ribs.
“Sorry, Ruby, Diana and I have a task from Miss Stacey we need to work on, so we won’t be sitting with you today.” Anne says quickly. Ruby nods slowly, and Anne can tell she’s just about pulled off the lie when Gilbert sticks his head in and ruin her perfect excuse.
“Anne, Diana, shall we?” He says, coming up behind the pair and opening the schoolhouse door. Immediately the unquestioning acceptance in Ruby’s eyes turns into suspicion and biting jealousy. Damn Gilbert Blythe and his constant need to be a gentleman – why must he insist on acting so nice all the time?
“Gilbert?” Ruby questions, her voice a little squeaky. “You have a task from Miss Stacey, too?”
Gilbert’s eyes dart between Anne’s and Ruby’s – Anne tries to silently communicate the need for him to play his part in this lie.
“Uh, yeah, Ruby, I do. The same one as Anne and Diana, in fact.” He doesn’t sound totally confident (because apparently Gilbert is too nice to be a good liar, great) but Ruby still buys it.
“Oh, well, could I help too?” Ruby asks interested now that she knows Gilbert is going to be participating. Anne hurries to think of a reason to deny her but this time it’s Diana who comes to the rescue.
“Sorry, Ruby, but you won’t be able to help much.” Diana says calmly. “It’s about school work, you see. Gilbert still has yet to catch up on one of the lessons he missed while he was away, and Miss Stacey asked Anne and I to help him with it since we did so well when we first learned it.”
Diana smiles warmly at Ruby and once more Anne is reminded of how lucky she is to have Diana choose her among everyone else in Avonlea. Anne’s partner is a genius – of course Ruby’s going to lose interest once it’s about schoolwork; the girl barely pays attention in class as it is. As predicted, the enthusiasm in Ruby’s eyes dims.
“Oh…” She says. “Well, good luck, I suppose.” Then Ruby’s gone, back into the school and over to where Josie is sitting. Anne’s shoulders slump in relief before she snaps her head up to look at Gilbert, anger written across her face.
“We could have avoided that had you not dragged your feet so!” She fumes, not waiting for an answer from the boy before storming out of the school. She hears Diana call out, but she doesn’t turn around. Anne knows she’s overreacting, but the frantic energy that’s been with her all morning is keeping her from apologizing or doing anything at all rational. If only Diana hadn’t told her about Gilbert’s feelings, then maybe Anne would be able to form coherent thoughts instead of the tangled mess that’s taken residence between her ears.
By the time Diana and Gilbert make it to the shed Anne has calmed down enough to have the grace to look apologetic.
“I apologize, Gilbert, I shouldn’t have overreacted like that. I just-“ Gilbert shakes his head, cutting her off.
“No, Anne, it’s I who should apologize. I should have realized how trying this is for you and Diana – I should have hurried, like you said.” He tips his head slightly towards her, looking truly contrite. “I apologize.”
“Oh, I… You’re forgiven.” Anne says once she gets past her surprise, although she really shouldn’t be shocked. Gilbert had already proved himself to be understanding on that night at the cliff.
The trio stand in awkward silence for a pregnant moment before it’s broken by Diana’s stomach gurgling. The girl’s cheeks immediately turn a bright, flaming pink.
“Oh my,” She squeaks, “it seems I’m more hungry than I thought! I apologize, that was unladylike of me.” Anne giggles.
“It’s not like you can control your stomach, Diana.” She says, grabbing her partners hand and dragging her over to sit on the bench beside Anne. This leaves Gilbert to sit on the floor across from them, which he does with no complaints. The first half of lunch is spent eating and laughing as they crack jokes and gossip about their classmates (although neither Diana nor Gilbert would call it gossip, both much too proper to do so; Anne has no such qualms). When it comes time for more serious discussion the air has been cleared enough that none of them are as tense as before.
“So…” Diana begins, fidgeting her hands in her lap. Anne reaches over to grasp one, and she prides herself on only shaking a little when Gilbert’s eyes find the motion. Diana squeezes gratefully before continuing. “Anne says you’re not going to- to tell anyone?”
Gilbert nods vigorously, compassion lighting a fire in his eyes.
“I swear to both of you, I won’t breathe a word to anyone. Ever.” He looks like he’s on the verge of tears as he continues. “I already said this to Anne, albeit less eloquently,” Anne grins at him, and Gilbert blushes, “but I know from my travels that there is more to this world than our parents or the church would tell us. You two aren’t the first and I doubt you’ll be the last.” Gilbert coughs awkwardly as he realizes how intense he’s being.
Diana takes pity on him and goes to speak, but he cuts her off.
“No, I… I’m not done.” He says, clearing his throat and blazing forward. “I am glad to know about you two, as strange as that may sound. I respect the both of you a great amount, even more so now that I know what you’re risking. Your bravery makes me feel brave.
I’m sorry to have found out in such a way and caused you both such a fright. I hope you know I’ll never forgive myself for the strife I’ve caused. You need not forgive me, but still… I apologize.” Gilbert finishes and immediately looks to the ground, not meeting Anne or Diana’s eyes.
Both of the girls are shocked into silence – one look at Diana’s face tells Anne that she’s struggling to respond as well as to hold back to tears. Anne is having no such struggle; she’s always embraced her emotions wholeheartedly, and now is no different. It seems that Anne will be crying today after all.
“Oh, Gilbert!” She exclaims, flinging herself dramatically off the bench and onto the floor beside him. For the second time ever Anne hugs Gilbert, not even giving him a chance to reciprocate. “Of course we forgive you! Or, I forgive you-“ Anne hastily backtracks, pulling away from Gilbert to face Diana, who’s grinning.
“Yes, Gilbert,” Diana says, “I forgive you as well.”
Anne excitedly turns back to Gilbert, surprised to see his face turned back up from the floor and even more surprised to see the tears dripping down his cheeks.
“Why are you crying?” Anne exclaims, pulling her sleeve over her hand and wiping his tears away before she can think better of it. He blinks in surprise at the motion, as does she, but neither of them pull away.
“There’s just a lot happening right now, okay?” Gilbert croaks. Diana giggles from somewhere behind Anne, and then Anne laughs because Diana’s laughing and Gilbert joins in and they’re all laughing. Somewhere in the back of her mind Anne adds this moment to the collection of memories she’s curating – this warmth, this companionship she’s feeling is something to be remembered. It’s not something she ever could have imagined in the orphanage, where the only people who cared for her were imaginary.
Happiness follows Anne for the rest of the day – she even manages to forget that they never swore Gilbert to secrecy, although she supposes that Gilbert speech was more powerful than any paltry combination of words she could come up with.
The world is still against them, but Anne feels safer knowing that one more person can see the beauty in the love between her and Diana.
Maybe Gilbert can come the next time they travel to Aunt Josephine’s. Maybe.