Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Who are you texting, all your friends are right here?”

Anne slammed her phone down on the table, thankful for the heavy duty case she had taken off Diana’s old phone, and narrowed her eyes at Cole.

“That’s just nosy and rude,” she said as the other half of the table erupted into jeers when Tillie made the fatal mistake of using a banned word (“Paul”).

“But true,” Cole said, giving her a pointed look. He then turned to Diana beside him just in time to catch her shoving a whole mozzarella stick in her mouth. “Do you know who she’s been texting all evening?”

“... No,” Diana said unconvincingly through a mouthful of cheese.

“Is it serious?” Cole asked, leaning forward over the table and looking like Christmas came early.

“Is what serious?” Anne asked, crossing her arms.

“Your new, ultra-secret, mysterious relationship,” Cole said dramatically but low enough to not catch the eagle-like attention of the table’s ultimate matchmaker.

“There is no secret,” Anne hissed, glancing over to see if Ruby had noticed, which she hadn’t to Anne’s relief. “And there’s no relationship. Can’t I talk to people? It’s allowed, right?”

“Not if he, she, or they make you smile like that with just a stupid text,” Cole said pointedly, pointing at her with a piece of fried cheese before splitting it with Diana.

“There was no smile—”

“There was something,” Diana mumbled under her breath.

“ Something . A whole face journey. Right in front of my salad,” Cole complained, gesturing to the lettuce on top of his nacho appetizer.

“Is it still that one guy?” Diana asked, lowering her voice conspiratorially.

“Ha!” Cole’s cry captured the attention of the rest of the table, but thankfully Josie took that moment to scoff at whoever’s Instagram she was stalking and practically throw her phone down into the middle of the table to make everyone else suffer too.

“There isn’t a guy!” Anne groaned, starting to put her head down on the table in defeat but thinking better of it and just glaring at Cole and Diana instead.

“So there is,” Cole interpreted, turning in his seat to look at Diana beside him. “Spill.”

Diana looked at Anne who just rolled her eyes. Taking that as a surrender, Diana leaned forward towards Cole, gesturing for him to meet her halfway in the small space between them at the table they had all crammed into.

“Anne’s been talking to this guy she met online,” Diana whispered, low enough so only Cole could hear, which meant she hadn’t gotten to her second drink yet.

“What, on Myspace?” Cole snickered.

“Shut up,” Anne mumbled, resting her forehead on her palm with her elbow perched precariously close to her soup bowl. “It’s really nothing. It’s just… some dude from this forum thing.”

“... And?” Cole intoned, looking at her expectedly.

“She said it was a place where people talked about books or something,” Diana answered for her. “You know, former English major nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense—”

“She corrected his spelling and he kept on chatting with her instead of blocking her like anyone else would,” Diana said, obviously trying not to laugh.

But Cole didn’t hold back.

“Okay, that I believe,” Cole said after snorting into his drink. “But you were just texting him, right? You guys have already moved on to real numbers and shit?”

Anne shrugged, poking at the packet of soup crackers she had been given while Jane groaned out loud since Josie started to complain about her brother.

“It’s not 2001 and I’m not twelve years old. I can talk to people I meet online,” Anne grumbled.

“What’s his name?” Cole asked easily, finishing his drink and smiling up at the cute waiter that brought him a new one almost immediately.

When Anne didn’t answer, Cole set his new drink down hard on the table, almost spilling it. Diana sat up straighter, her eyes widening at her best friend.

“Anne,” Diana hissed.

“Anne Shirley-Cuthbert,” Cole said sternly.

Anne made a face at him. “What the fuck, you sounded just like Marilla,” she complained.

“I should! Imagine her face if I told her you were talking with some dude whose name you don’t even know,” Cole scoffed.

“Again. I’m not twelve. It’s not that big of a deal,” Anne argued.

“Have you even asked him?” Diana asked.

Anne shrugged again. “I don’t know… He seems pretty private. We’re just talking, it’s not like it matters…”

“You aren’t sending him money, right?” Diana suddenly asked, looking horrified.

Anne rolled her eyes so hard it hurt. “Jesus, no. I’m a fucking teacher, do you think I have money to spare? I’d at least wait for some foreign prince that needs my help, not some random Canadian bro that likes Whitman.”

“So he’s in Canada, at least?” Cole asked.

“Yes,” Anne sighed, giving them that to appease.

“Anything else? What do you call him, if you don’t know his name?”

“I don’t really call him anything. But we have each other’s usernames for the forum, I guess,” Anne said.

“Is yours still ‘Princess Cordelia’?” Diana asked with a grin that only grew when Anne blushed in answer.

“What’s his, then?” Cole asked.

“‘Uncle Gilby’,” Anne muttered.

“What the fuck,” Cole spluttered as Diana wrinkled her nose. “That sounds like a pedophile if I’ve ever heard of one!”

“He says it’s what his niece calls him,” Anne defended, her cheeks almost as red as Ruby’s daiquiri. 

“Anne. You need to call this guy or facetime him or something! He could be anyone!” Cole stressed.

“I know he could be anyone, I’m not expecting him to be anyone specific. We just… talk about books and stuff…”

“Well, if he says he has cancer or he got in a car wreck, you know what that means,” Diana said knowingly.

“Catfish!” Cole gasped, jerking back into his seat and knocking his fork off the table.

“Shut up,” Anne groaned, her head falling back in her exasperation.

“Oh my god!”

Everyone turned towards Josie who was looking at her phone again.

“If it’s another shirtless picture of my brother, please don’t ,” Jane begged.

“I’ll take it if you crop out his head,” Cole piped up, receiving a dark look from both Jane and Josie as Tillie snickered.

“Shut up, you guys. This is legit. Guess where my mom just saw a moving van,” Josie said, looking quite pleased at having the first stab at the latest gossip. 

“Nowhere, because no one ever leaves Avonlea,” Cole said flatly.

“Oh, no one’s leaving,” Josie said theatrically. “Someone’s moving in. Or back, I should say.”

“Just tell us,” Anne said, sipping her water loudly through her straw.

Josie looked put off for barely a moment, obviously having wanted them to actually guess, but her smirk was back and this time directed towards where Anne and Ruby sat.

“It seems a certain Gilbert Blythe has returned to Avonlea,” Josie said haughtily.

The table was silent for almost a full thirty seconds (a record for them) before erupting. Ruby gasped as most of the others started talking at once, mostly about the last time anyone had seen Gilbert before he left about ten years prior.

“Who?” Cole asked dryly, turning to Anne and finding her attempting to keep her expression neutral.

“He was a boy at our school,” Diana answered instead. “You know what it was like with the whole small town ordeal, everyone knew him. His dad died and he ended up moving away. Not long before you came. Not that long after Anne arrived, too, I think. Do you remember him, Anne?”

Anne snorted. “I think I remember the boy who got me suspended,” she muttered derisively.

“Suspended?” Cole gasped, looking delighted by the news.

“Don’t act like you had no hand in it,” Diana laughed before turning back to Cole. “Anne hit him over the head with a textbook.”

“He pulled my hair!” Anne defended. “And insulted me!”

“It seems baby Anne wasn’t that much different before I met her,” Cole smirked, laughing when Anne just stuck her tongue out at him.

“Is he moving back to his old house?” Tillie asked, drawing everyone’s attention back to Josie.

“Apparently so. I thought he must’ve sold it at some point, but I guess not,” she said.

“Did your mom actually talk to him or just do a creepy drive-by?” Cole asked.

Josie made a face at him from the other end of the table. “She was busy,” she said flatly.

“Well, someone needs to look him up on Facebook!” Ruby demanded.

“I just did, he’s not on there,” Jane complained.

“Can anyone get on his Linked-in without him seeing?” Tillie asked, pulling out her phone.

“Or not caring if he sees,” Josie said simply, her thumbs flying over her screen. “Here he is! It says he just finished his… residency! He’s been hired at Avonlea General, apparently.”

“A doctor? That’s impressive,” Ruby gushed.

“Is it all coming back to you, Ruby?” Tillie teased.

“Of course not,” Ruby scoffed, but she blushed prettily anyway.

“Did you have a crush on him, Ruby?” Cole asked with a grin.

“For the longest time,” Jane sighed.

“But he had a crush on Anne,” Diana whispered suddenly to Cole, making him light up.

“Oh really?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

“Don’t spread lies, Diana,” Anne mumbled even though she hadn’t exactly heard whatever Diana said. She just knew the look on Cole’s face well.

“A whole ass doctor, though,” Tillie said, smirking. “And young, too. All the other ones that work there are old as dirt.”

“You looking for an upgrade, Tillie?” Jane laughed.

“I watch Grey’s Anatomy , I know what goes on there,” Tillie said, making the table laugh and get a glare from the older couple at the booth behind them.

“His Linked-in photo looks old, but he could still be McDreamy,” Jane grinned, looking at his profile over Josie’s shoulder.

“See, if you had your dude’s name, you could stalk him like any sensible person,” Cole muttered to Anne.

“What if I didn’t want to?” Anne said dryly.

“Alright, that’s it. We’re binging Catfish when we get home. You need to learn a few things from my pals Ned and his silver fox sidekick Max,” Cole said seriously. “You’re not believing you’re talking to Katy Perry, but you’re toeing the line, Cuthbert.”

“Ooh, can we watch that episode first though, it’s my favorite,” Diana said, leaning into Cole’s side.

“That’s a given,” Cole waved off as he wrapped an arm around Diana’s shoulders.

“I’m sure Miss Perry doesn’t call herself an uncle or read ‘Song of Myself’ on her off days,” Anne said, punctuating her facts with an eye roll.

“Your dude may not either,” Cole said with a dramatic amount of mock-regretfulness. 

“And what reason would he have for going on a literature forum and pretending to know about poetry?” Anne asked flatly, barely noting that the rest of the table was now stalking their former teachers on Linked-in.

Cole sucked in a breath dramatically before leaning in. “You haven’t sent him nudes, have you?” he gasped mockingly.

Diana burst out laughing as Anne threw her napkin at his stupid face.

“No. I haven’t sent him nudes ,” Anne snapped, trying but failing to kick him under the table.

“But have you sent him anything else?” Cole teased through his chuckles.

Diana then stopped laughing suddenly at the shifty look on Anne’s face.

“Anne!”

“I haven’t sent him nudes, Diana,” Anne argued, crossing her arms loosely across her chest.

“But you’ve sent him pictures? And he hasn’t sent any in return?!”

“It was just a picture of my tattoo. A close-up. All that tells you is that I like flowers and I’m pale and freckly. I’m not the only white girl with a flower tattoo,” Anne said snidely.

“I thought you said you just talked about books? Why are you sending him tattoo pics?” Cole asked distrustfully. 

“We sometimes talk about other stuff, too. That’s not a crime either,” Anne mumbled.

“That’s it. We’re adding the movie version to the list,” Cole said decisively, throwing his hands up like he was finished with the discussion.

“I’m not being catfished,” Anne whined, just a touch too loudly.

“Anne’s being catfished?!” Ruby gasped, her hand going to her chest like a fainting debutant. 

Anne had to put her face in her hands as the rest of the table erupted again in a poor imitation of the cat-getting-yelled-at meme. 

“Fuck,” she groaned as Cole cackled. 

Later that night, after Anne had successfully escaped the dinner table, she was sequestered in Cole’s room with him and Diana in the apartment the three shared. Diana and Cole were arguing over which episode to watch next (Max versus guest co-hosts), which left Anne to stare up at the ceiling and contemplate her life as it stood currently.

Over ten years ago, Anne Shirley arrived in Avonlea. She couldn’t do math, she had no idea how to make friends, and she wielded her words like a weapon. Or a shield, to be more accurate. What she found when she arrived was what she had now: the best group of friends a person could ask for, a set of parents that were loving if unconventional, and a love for teaching that spawned from her love for learning. Now, as a teacher, Ms. Cuthbert tried her best to instill that drive and interest in the world into her students. Her efforts seemed to be more or less effective some years than others, but if even just one child left her classroom with a non-school book in their bag they were pouring through, she was happy. 

But, one thing she would have wanted for herself at this stage in life, if someone had asked thirteen-year-old Anne way back when, was something she had yet to have. Her tragical romance. Or just a regular romance, to be honest. Any kind of romance. Just a romantical romance that wanted to romance her somewhere other than in between the pages of her romance novels.

Anne wasn’t so fanciful and stuck in the clouds that she could have herself be duped by some faceless screen name that told her whatever she wanted to hear. She’d seen Catfish . And she wasn’t an idiot. 

But having a friend, even if he was a bit mysterious and private, didn’t hurt anyone. Even if their conversations had long since strayed from just poetry and narratives and towards their day to day lives and things that toed the line as fairly personal, if unidentifiable. Anne was just making an anonymous friend. And she knew to cut it off should money ever be brought up. She wasn’t an idiot. She just liked talking to this guy. 

“Okay, we’re going with Chris Brown,” Diana announced, grabbing the remote and navigating to the correct episode.

“Ew.”

“Or ‘Chris Brown’,” Cole corrected, using air quotes and wrinkling his nose like Anne was doing.

“I promise I’ll stop talking to this guy if he tries to tell me he’s Chris Brown,” Annie sighed deeply.

“What if he turns out to be some creepy old guy?” Diana asked, eyes on the screen as she scrolled.

“Then you two aren’t allowed to tell anyone about it,” Anne said immediately, before adding, “But he’s not. Or, well, he hasn’t tried to tell me who he wants me to think he is, so he can’t be someone else.”

“That barely made sense, but we do trust you. Even if we’re still going to do this binge so you don’t forget yourself,” Cole muttered. “Wait, that’s the episode. No, one down.”

“Just don’t get involved with a married guy, Anne. That would be just awful,” Diana frowned at her friend.

“No one’s getting involved with anything,” Anne grumbled, rolling over so her face was pressed into one of Cole’s pillows.

“Not without facetiming, you’re not,” Cole whispered loudly.

“Did Josie just send us creepy as fuck papparazzi pics in the group chat?” Anne asked incredulously as she looked at her phone on the counter while trying to get the top on her travel mug.

“Whose house is that?” Cole called from his room.

“That’s the Blythe orchard!” Diana yelled from the bathroom before walking out while putting the final pin into her hair.

“So who are these kids?” Anne asked, zooming into the blurry photo before going back to the chat. “Josie says she thinks Gilbert has two kids, what the fuck.”

“Is he married? Mrs. Pye would’ve mentioned that, right? After breaking into a government database or whatever,” Cole said as he walked into the kitchen, moving around his roommates as they tried to get ready to leave for work.

Anne mumbled “I don’t know” through her bite of toast. Or some amalgamation of those words. 

“That would make Josie’s day, though. Avonlea’s Golden Boy returns with a whole ass family,” Cole said.

“Golden Boy? Who the hell called him that?” Anne scoffed after roughly swallowing her toast.

“Probably Mrs. Lynde,” Diana answered and Anne hummed her agreement.

“I’ll probably call Marilla and see what Rachel has to say about all this,” Anne shrugged. “I would enjoy knowing something before Josie tells us.”

“As long as you bring us into the loop,” Cole said from where his head was inside the fridge, digging for his specific flavor of yogurt.

“In Mrs. Lynde we trust,” Diana whispered, giggling when Cole laughed and hit his head against the fridge shelf.

“How’s your boy?”

“Boy? The kid in my class that thinks he’s in charge—”

“No, no,” Cole waved off, leaning against Anne’s doorway as she turned to look at him from where she was grading papers at her desk. “Your boy . Your mystery dude!”

Anne groaned, twisting her chair back around so she was facing her desk again.

“He’s not ‘my’ anything, Mr. Mac-nosy,” Anne answered, not-so-gently placing a star sticker atop one of her students’ papers. 

“But you’re still talking to him,” Cole said, not asking.

Unfortunately, Anne’s phone buzzed from her bed and Cole dove for it.

“Cole!” Anne cried, but it was too late. 

Cole had her phone unlocked within seconds and was opening the latest of the messages in the chat labeled “UG.” 

“Oh, it’s not a dick pic,” Cole said dejectedly.

“God forbid,” Anne said, inelegantly dragging herself and her roller chair across her rug to snatch her phone back. “You’re the only dick I see here.”

“Ask him to send you something! Not a dick pic, just a regular pic!” Cole instructed as if the idea just occurred to him.

“And why would I do that?” Anne countered, using her feet to push herself back to her desk.

“You said you sent him something, he should reciprocate,” Cole said, like it was obvious.

“I sent him one picture of my tattoo—”

“Don’t you wanna see what he looks like? I know I do!”

“I know you do,” Anne shot back. “But can’t someone have a little privacy these days?”

“... No. Of course not. If he protests too much, something is up. One picture won’t hurt. Tell him it doesn’t even have to be a good one. Just one that proves he isn’t a serial kill or whatever.”

“Most serial killers look normal, that’s the point,” Anne argued. “And they’re usually white, so they get away with it. One picture won’t prove anything.”

“Well, you’ll have it to look back on when they show the rough sketch of his face on America’s Most Wanted ,” Cole muttered.

“I’m not sure I’d want to know, honestly,” Anne sighed.

“But you can’t say you aren’t a little curious. About the non-killer side of him. Don’t you want to know what the guy sending you poetry late at night looks like? Also, why is he sending you shit at three in the morning? I didn’t scroll far but I did see that,” Cole said accusingly.

“He says he has weird hours,” Anne mumbled.

“Weird killing-spree hours?” Cole asked pointedly.

“Fine! I’ll ask!” Anne gave in, grabbing her phone from where she had stuffed it into her pocket.

“Just one pic,” Cole pressed.

“‘Hey, sorry to sound creepy, but my friend wants me to ask if you’re a serial killer’,” Anne mumbled as she typed, making Cole laugh. “‘I don’t mean to be weird, but would you mind sending me a pic or something?’”

“Hit send,” Cole pressured.

“You’re the worst,” Anne sighed before making a show of hitting send. Her and UG had teased each other a little bit before, not just keeping things seriously focused on literary endeavors, so she hoped he would take this request in stride. Her heart sped up when her phone buzzed again, but she hoped Cole couldn’t tell. When she opened the text, pushing Cole away from looking over her shoulder, she couldn’t help but say, “Oh.”

“Is he ugly?” Cole asked.

“He said no,” Anne said, surprised she felt rather disappointed.

“Oh,” Cole frowned.

“I mean. He said it nicely. But he said no…”

“Because his face was disfigured in a cancer-causing car crash?” Cole asked testily.

Anne rolled her eyes. “No. He just said he’d rather not. I told you he was kinda private…”

“Maybe you can try again later,” Cole hedged. Anne just shrugged in response. “When he’s not covered in the blood of innocent sex workers.” Anne just gave him the finger in response.

Anne walked into the school backwards, using her hip to push the door open so she could get inside while juggling all the crap she thought she’d need today (decisions made pre-coffee). Her school was small, but she loved it. She taught the middle-school kids, which usually made for interesting days, but got to watch all sorts of ages float around the building (which she enjoyed as it meant she half knew some of them by the time they got to her classroom). 

With her coffee almost too hot to hold in the crook of her arm, Anne hurried along past the front office and the hallway that led down to the elementary classrooms. A few other teachers were wandering about, but one person standing in front of the administration office looked familiar, but not in the coworker-I-don’t-know-the-name-of way. Anne’s eyes narrowed, but her stack of essays chose that moment to unceremoniously slip from her arms and cascade across the checkered floor, so she had to deal with that (also pre-coffee). When she looked back up nosely, all she saw was the French teacher tacking up a poster in the entryway. 

A few minutes later, Anne made it to her classroom without any further incident. She was quite proud of her room, in fact. She wasn’t the only teacher that had taken the time to decorate, but she felt her room had a certain kind of flair to it. Anne knew that her students liked it, for they were usually vocal about it when the school year started, and she liked to think it helped set the mood for them. School didn’t have to be so stuffy, she believed, and she thought pushing her lessons away from that helped her kids. And a few extra paper flowers just for a pop of color never hurt anyone. 

As Anne tried to organize her desk before any of the kids started to trickle in for first period, her phone buzzed. 

Anne glanced at her phone, assuming it was Diana, but found it was UG instead.

Anne had found herself viewing their conversations a little different ever since Cole had pressured her to ask for a photo of the guy. Where she had been just fine keeping things “professional,” so to speak, before that, she now couldn’t help but wonder if that was how things had to stay. She understood a need for privacy, it wasn’t like she wanted to give this guy her address or whatever, but Anne really enjoyed their conversations. She knew it was just naturally easier to talk to someone without having to see their face, she’d learned that much from the Catfish marathon, but she wondered if it would be so wrong of her to acknowledge that conversations with this guy did feel different. Maybe it was because it was out of the ordinary, a little mysterious, and just felt a bit fun. Either way, Anne now couldn’t stop thinking about what this guy did look like. And could she keep talking to someone who wouldn’t even facetime? Should she dare to ask? It’s not like she wanted his address or anything…

It would be a dick move to pressure the guy into revealing himself, so she wouldn’t, but setting some boundaries in that regard was definitely something to consider. 

But, for now, she could still text with the guy…

Anne shoved a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth right as her phone started to ring, as the universal always willed it. She tried to swallow the clump of frozen chocolate, feeling like Princess Mia, but almost choked on it when she pulled her phone off her nightstand and saw what was flashing across the screen: “UG.”

Anne looked around the empty room, tempted to just stare in a corner like a camera was there, before looking back at her phone. Before she could talk herself out of it, or it went to voicemail, Anne answered it.

“... Hello?”

There was silence on the other end for just long enough to make Anne wonder if it had been a butt dial, despite their rarity these days, but then someone cleared their throat.

“Uh. Hi.”

Anne let the words, or moreso the sound of them, sink in for a moment. It sounded like the guy was keeping his voice down, definitely not talking at full volume, but his voice sounded… nice. Not creepy. But Ted Bundy probably sounded nice, too, so. You know.

“Hi,” Anne repeated, mocking the guy just a tiny bit.

UG huffed. “I probably should’ve texted you before I did this. You’re probably having dinner like a normal person with a normal schedule,” he said dryly.

“I’m on dessert now, actually,” Anne informed him.

“Oh. Well, I don’t want it to get cold—”

“It’s ice cream.”

“— or melt…”

“It’s alright,” Anne said, poking at her ice cream with her spoon. “I’m surprised you called, actually.”

“Me too,” he said, making Anne’s eyebrows raise. “I just mean… I surprised myself with the idea, I guess. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No. So far so good,” Anne said, the smile evident in her voice, making him chuckle softly from wherever he was.

“Good,” he said, sounding like he meant it. “So… I watched that documentary you told me about. With the triplets? I definitely wasn’t expecting that whole twist…”

“Right! It just reinforces how paramount it is to help kids start out on even footing. But also how crucial it is to pay attention to kids’ home lives and their mental health, of course. As a teacher, I just cannot get over how irresponsible those people were, even if it was so long ago. They were children, for God’s sake. And even when they’re adults! I don’t know what I would do if I found out I’d been, like, stolen? It would fuck anyone up,” Anne ranted, pausing only to draw a breath, and then realizing she had been rambling. “Uh. Sorry.”

“No, no. I just didn’t realize you were a teacher. It makes sense,” UG said.

“Oh. Yeah, I am. Tomorrow’s a federal holiday, though, so that’s why I was treating myself to some ice cream. Before I went to bed early like a grandma,” Anne said wryly.

“I have tomorrow off, too. But just by happenstance,” UG said, his voice still low but still… nice. “Do you enjoy teaching? It’s a good sign that you are against experimenting on children, so I’m assuming they’re in good hands.”

Anne laughed, hearing him chuckle with her. “Based on some of the teachers I’ve had, the bar is that low. But I do love it. And all my coworkers are great. I don’t want to say these kids are lucky, because it’s what all kids should have, but I do like where I work.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

“And… what about you?” Anne asked carefully, not wanting to spook him. “Do you enjoy where you work?”

The guy hummed for a moment. “To be determined. I haven’t been here long, so I’m still feeling the place out,” he said, not escaping Anne’s notice that he didn’t quite elaborate.

“Being the new guy is tough,” Anne commiserated, remembering her arrival in Avonlea. “But you seem to be good at talking to strangers, so I believe in you.”

UG laughed softly. “You’re definitely an outlier,” he said.

“You mean you don’t spend your evenings talking to girls you meet online?” Anne asked, inserting a dramatic gasp just for fun.

UG let out a laugh much louder than his others but quickly muffled it. “I can’t say that I do,” he said, quieter than before.

“I suppose that’s a good thing. I’ll tell my friend that’s one box ticked off the ‘Not a Serial Killer’ list.”

“I also suppose me telling you I’m not one isn’t helpful, is it…”

“Nope!” Anne said pleasantly.

“I’ve listened to some of that one podcast… The ‘fuck politeness’ one? Does that help?”

“A little,” Anne giggled, resting her face on her hand and wondering how she ended up like this, actually enjoying a conversation with a relative stranger. They’d been texting for months, but talking… definitely felt different. It wasn’t facetime, but it was something. The whole thing was… something.

After that first phone call, Anne found herself talking to UG more often than expected. It was always later in the evenings, and he always kept his voice down, and Anne knew red flags when she saw them. But she didn’t stop answering his calls, or making a few of her own, and didn’t stop enjoying each conversation they had. They still didn’t exchange names, but neither asked the other, so Anne wasn’t sure what that meant. Still. He had yet to ask her for money, so maybe there were no whiskered swimming cats here. Probably.

Anne hadn’t exactly told anyone else about these phone calls, however. Her friends knew about the potential catfish, which she still blamed on Cole for pestering her. And Cole and Diana knew a bit more about her online-turned-texting friend. But she hadn’t quite mentioned that they now spoke on the phone. She knew what would happen if she did and she kind of wanted to save herself the trouble. She knew she needed to get more information out of this dude before she did something stupid like get a crush on him or some shit. But she also was hesitant to push, both him and just the whole situation. Pushing him might push him away, and pushing the situation further might change it beyond repair. Any progress they made took them one step closer to Anne needing to make an ultimatum and she knew there was no coming back from that if it went poorly.

But it’s not like Anne was obsessed with this mystery man. So she pushed him out of her mind as she got out of Cole’s car in front of Ruby and Moody’s adorable little house for what didn’t sound as “low key” as promised based on what they could hear from almost a block away.

“I thought we were both wearing our jean jackets,” Anne complained to Diana.

“Mine ended up being dirty, sorry.”

“I can’t be an individual by myself,” Anne muttered, making Diana laugh, as she straightened her jacket over her dress. 

“I was thinking Moody might pop the question at this thing, but Ruby would kill him if he did it in front of all their drunk friends,” Cole said just loud enough for the two of them to hear as they walked up to the house, the party already going strong.

“This reminds me of our post-graduation shindig,” Anne said.

“Are you calling it that because you were too drunk to remember most of it?” Diana laughed.

“Perhaps,” Anne shrugged, snagging a cup from the drink table near the entrance and taking her time in choosing her drink for the night.

“Are we pirating tonight?” Cole asked slyly.

“How do you know about that, you weren’t even there!” Anne cried in indignation.

“But I saw the pictures,” Cole smirked before disappearing into the crowd with his own drink.

“Curse modern technology,” Anne muttered.

“Come on, let’s go find the girls,” Diana said, sipping the drink Anne made her and tugging her further into the house.

Josie must have had a few of whatever was in her red cup because she hugged Anne and Diana immediately upon their arrival in Ruby’s kitchen where she and the others were. Ruby looked a little frazzled but that was understandable, Anne wasn’t sure if she’d trust some of these people enough to not destroy her place. But everyone seemed to be having fun and Anne knew Ruby would be able to join in eventually.

“Do you want us to stick around and help you clean up after, Ruby?” Anne asked, linking her arm with Ruby’s as she swayed a little with the music.

“Thank you for offering,” Ruby said, kissing Anne’s cheek and revealing that she wasn’t far off from Josie’s tipsiness. “Moody said he’d rope some of his friends into it, so don’t you worry.” 

“I won’t,” Anne laughed, sipping her own drink that was more juice mixer than anything.

“Josie should help since she invited half of these people,” Jane accused from her spot on top of the counter.

“It’s been so long since we’ve had a real party,” Josie defended.

“Because we’re not in college anymore,” Diana argued, her mouth twitching in amusement as Josie swayed, but not because of the music.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t have fun! Right, Anne?!” Josie spun to point at Anne and almost tripped over her own feet.

“You can have fun doing anything,” Anne said, trying to keep a straight face.

“Yes. Like doing a party,” Josie said finitely. 

The music changed from wherever it was coming from and Anne gasped.

“I love this song! Let’s go dance!”

“See!” Josie said, as if that proved her argument.

“You can’t dance to this,” Tillie laughed.

“ Shining like a wooooork ooooof aaaart ,” Anne started singing, dramatically pointing at Tillie and then the others until they started singing along with her, making her cheeks ache with how hard she was smiling and further proving her (and Josie’s) point. 

Partway through the song one of them messed up the words so badly that they all couldn’t continue for how hard they were laughing, leaving them just giggling alone in the kitchen until someone said they should go out to the rest of the party. 

Anne was too busy laughing at what Diana had just whispered into her ear to watch where she was going, so she knocked right into someone as her group stumbled into the living room.

“Sorry!” Anne said, giggles stuck in her throat, half turning to at least look the person in the eye as she apologized lamely. The person she had run into looked familiar, for a lot of different reasons, and they were giving her a particularly strange look before what seemed to be recognition took over their face, right as Josie Pye let out an exclamation of some sort.

“Gilbert!” she cried, pushing forward to stand way too close to the guy. “You made it!”

“Gilbert!” Ruby squeaked, practically into Anne’s ear, as she spun around.

Gilbert Blythe, apparently at this party, looked a little shocked at the sudden appearance of this band of tipsy women before him, most of which had known him since birth or whatever.

“Uh. Hi,” he said, having to speak up because of the music and giving them a wave that he looked like he immediately regretted.

“We heard you moved back to Avonlea,” Tillie said, leaning forward.

“Did Josie invite you?”

“I thought he’d like to see the old crowd. Clear up some of the rumors! Catch up!”

“Have you seen Moody? My boyfriend? My boyfriend, Moody?”

“Is it true you’re living with someone? You don’t have a ring on, are you trying to—”

“You must’ve been young to have a kid that old—”

“Was becoming a doctor as hard as they say? Do you have any war stories?”

Gilbert’s eyes widened with each question, some even coming from people just walking by who pointed at Gilbert like he was some hard-to-spot celebrity. Anne could only watch, her drink warming her stomach, as he oddly kept glancing at her, as if asking for help she wasn’t sure she should give.

But as Josie got closer and closer into his bubble, Anne sighed. This would make up for almost giving him a concussion over a decade ago, right?

“Someone needs a drink!” Anne announced loudly, reaching out to grab the front of Gilbert’s shirt and yanking him through the crowd towards the front of the house to the drink table.

Upon arrival, Anne finished the last of what was in her cup and started to make herself a new concoction. When her kidnapped/saved companion said nothing, she turned to find him staring at her. 

“You remember me, right? I might actually be offended if you don’t,” Anne said, putting her hand on her hip as she faced him.

At that, Gilbert chuckled. “How could I forget you?” he asked sarcastically.

“Mmm. How indeed,” she said cryptidly, turning back to the table and pouring some liquid in her cup. She held up the almost empty bottle to Gilbert who took it and finished it off. She then raised her cup and tapped it against his. “Welcome back to Avonlea, Gilbert Blythe.”

“Thank you, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert,” Gilbert said, giving her a familiar smirk she had almost forgotten about. 

“I do have to ask,” she began, making Gilbert sigh.

“Yes, I have a kid,” he said, setting down his drink. “But I’m also living with my… friend and his daughter. My niece, really. So just one kid is mine. My niece is six and my daughter is three.”

“Are they going to school in Avonlea?” Anne asked, perking up.

“Uh. Yeah,” Gilbert said, looking like he wasn’t expecting that question.

“Good! I mean, your niece will have, uh, Miss Robinson for most of her classes, right? She’s such a good teacher for that age group, I’m sure your niece will love her,” Anne gushed as she held her drink in her hands to keep them occupied

“Oh,” Gilbert said, blinking at her. He then shoved his hands in his pockets and suddenly, like a flip was switched, looking a bit more comfortable to be there. “Good. She’s a great kid. So smart. I want her to like school. Maybe almost as much as you did.”

Anne let out an indignant huff and playfully punched Gilbert in the arm at his smirk. “You should be so lucky,” she said, keeping her voice snobbish before sticking her tongue out at him impulsively and making him laugh. “Maybe your daughter will be better at spelling than you ever were.”

Gilbert’s smile changed at the mention of his kid. It became softer, almost reminiscent, like he would rather be wherever she was than at this party with people he hadn’t seen since he was a teenager. Anne liked it. (The worst thing about her job was a parent that didn’t get some kind of emotion on their face when they talked about their child.)

“What about the preschool teachers, do you know them?” Gilbert asked, seemingly genuine in asking for something she knew more about than him.

“Miss Miller is a saint,” Anne insisted, poking Gilbert’s arm as if to dare him to contradict her (and not stopping to wonder if she was maybe touching him too much). “Both for her work with those precious three-year-olds, but also because she’s engaged to one of Rachel Lynde’s sons and she should receive sainthood just for that.”

“God help her,” Gilbert chuckled. “How is Mrs. Lynde? And Marilla and Matthew, of course.”

“They’re all wonderful,” Anne said with a smile, her drink practically forgotten. “Matthew had another scare with his heart not too long ago, but they both assure me he’s fit as a fiddle now. For his age at least. You should stop by. Green Gables, I mean. You’re back around the corner, anyway. Marilla would love to have you. And your family, of course! Matthew loves kids, don’t let his introversion fool you.”

Gilbert’s head tilted slightly as he looked at her, almost studying her. “I— We’d like that…”

Anne looked up at him, shifting on her feet and stuffing one hand into her jacket pocket. Her eyes suddenly narrowed slightly and she gave him an expectant look. “Well?”

“Uh. Well what?” he asked.

“Bring out the photo album!” Anne insisted, gesturing to his person with her cup. “No self respecting parent goes anywhere without a whole photo album of their kid, Mr. Blythe. I spend all day with them just as they’re hitting puberty, please show me pictures of an adorable toddler.”

Anne felt her cheeks heat up as her demands were met with just Gilbert’s gaze, his eyes not leaving her, but adopting the peculiar expression he had when he first saw her earlier. She started to say something else, maybe something about him not needing to do whatever she ordered him to do, but he then gave her a smile and pulled out his phone.

“You asked for it,” Gilbert teased, stepping beside her so their shoulders were pressed together. He pulled up his photo album and, from what Anne could see in a quick glimpse, the whole thing was of two little girls. “This is Delphine, my niece. We call her Dellie, unless she’s gotten in trouble—”

“Is that often?” Anne asked, her mouth twitching into a smile.

“These days, yes,” Gilbert said, although he didn’t look too put out about the fact. “And this is Marie. Named after Dellie’s mother who passed when she was a baby. I mean. Sorry, that was morbid.”

“No, no,” Anne said hurriedly, her hand finding Gilbert’s arm. “I think it’s lovely. What’s her full name? Please say it’s something just beautiful.”

“I may be biased,” Gilbert chuckled, watching as Anne looked back at his phone and at the picture of Marie on a swing hanging from an apple tree. “Marie Rose Blythe.”

“Well that’s adorable and so is she,” Anne said firmly. She would later blame the drink in her hand for the fact that she then started sliding through Gilbert’s photos herself, although he didn’t try to stop her. She made a small noise when she got to a photo of Gilbert holding his daughter beside a woman from whom Marie must have gotten her cornsilk curls. 

“Uh. My ex, Winnie,” Gilbert said, quickly swiping away but just getting to another photo that had her in it.

“Okay, Gilbert, I’m just gonna say it,” Anne said, pointing at him with her cup again.

“Uh.”

“Now, I’m not saying you aren’t an attractive guy. But this child of yours definitely got her looks from her mother. Because damn.”

Anne blushed at her boldness, again blaming the alcohol, but Gilbert eventually let out a laugh that sounded like it was forced out of him. But his eyes seemed to twinkle (because of the alcohol?) as he looked at her.

“I can’t argue with that, I suppose,” Gilbert chuckled before someone ran into his back so hard he stumbled, making Anne spill her drink all over her jacket.

“Gilbert Blythe!” Bill Andrews yelled, wrapping his arm around Gilbert’s shoulder and jostling him some more, paying no attention to Anne as she wrinkled her nose at his appearance.

“Uh—”

“Come on, I told the guys I saw you, but they didn’t believe me!”

Gilbert turned his head back towards Anne just as she shucked off her jacket, holding it away from her as it dripped what was left of her vodka cranberry onto Ruby’s floor.

“I’ll just,” Anne muttered, stepping away from Gilbert as Billy started to pull him away. She missed the way his eyes fell to the tattoo on the inside of her forearm and the way they widened in recognition before she turned away to go find Ruby’s laundry room.

Anne found the other girls, sans jacket, and joined them with whatever they were talking about now (mainly Billy’s unfortunate existence). As Ruby’s pretty solid playlist played on, Anne kept an eye out for Gilbert as she and the girls moved through the house, but she didn’t see him again. Which was just a little unfortunate. She did want to see more of his pictures.

Sometime later, Anne stepped outside with Cole to keep him company while he smoked some of the blunt he had stolen from Billy’s pocket. 

“So. That’s the famous Gilbert Blythe,” Cole began as he leaned against the porch railing.

Anne laughed as she used her hand to wave away the smoke he blew out and then pushed her hair away from where it was sticking to her neck. “Famous my ass. But yeah, that’s him.”

“I see you didn’t hit him hard enough to leave any lasting damage,” Cole said with a perfected smirk and eyebrow-raise combo.

“You should see his ex,” Anne said, eyes widening meaningfully. Her and Cole then broke down in that just-right way where laughing just made whatever they wee laughing at that much funnier.

“You—” Cole cut off as Anne’s phone started ringing from where she had tucked it halfway into her bra after she had to pull it out of her jacket. 

Anne plucked it out and frowned when she saw it was UG calling, much later than he normally did. Unfortunately, Cole was tall enough that he could easily see what her screen said and he gasped, choking on his inhale. 

“You didn’t tell us you were talking to him!” Cole said accusingly.

“Just a little,” Anne mumbled, looking back down at her still-ringing phone.

“Answer it! Put it on speaker!”

“Shut up,” Anne mumbled again before answering the call with her back to Cole, ready to tell UG that she was too busy to talk. “Hey—”

“ Anne? ”

Chapter Text

Anne squeaked and dropped her phone, spinning around to look at Cole who had been close enough to hear and whose jaw had dropped in response. 

“Did you—”

“No!” Anne hissed, pointing at her phone at her feet. 

Cole dove to pick up the phone but Anne tugged it back. She could hear someone saying something on the other line, muffled by her hands now, and shared a wide-eyed look with Cole. Slowly, she brought the phone back up to her ear.

“Hello…?”

“Hey! Are you still at the party?” he asked, speaking louder than usual over the noise going on around him.

“Just what the fuck does that mean?” Anne snapped, her heartbeat speeding up, her hand reaching out to grip Cole’s shirt so he wouldn’t leave her side.

“I— Anne— Can you come back inside—”

Anne looked at Cole, fear beginning to form in her eyes, and saw that he looked rather angry. He grabbed her hand and tugged her back into Ruby’s house, now calling for Diana over the noise.

Anne kept the phone to her ear, at a loss of what to say or do, but then stumbled into Cole’s back as he stopped suddenly.

“Cole—”

“Anne,” Cole responded, reaching back to wrap his arm around her and tug her to stand in front of him. When Anne frowned up at him, he pointed into the kitchen. 

Anne turned and saw Diana first, her eyes wide and obviously torn between humor and shock. Diana then looked at the person next to her and Anne’s eyes followed to see Gilbert, standing there, eyes on her. With his phone to his ear.

“Anne,” Gilbert said, in the kitchen and over the phone.

Anne blinked. She pulled her phone from her ear and looked down at it. Then back at Gilbert in the next room. She then stalked forward, Cole at her heels, and used both hands to shove Gilbert in the chest and making him stumble back a few steps.

The kitchen, now with more people in it than there had been when Anne had first arrived at the party, went silent. 

“Anne,” Diana whispered, but Anne didn’t let her speak.

“What the fuck!” Anne cried, waving her phone around before Diana grabbed it from her hand before she could throw it or drop it. 

“Anne—”

“Is this some kind of joke?” Anne yelled, voice clear over the music. She felt something build in her chest that she hadn’t felt in a while, maybe since she had been a lonely teenager trying to follow the rules of middle school friendship. 

Gilbert’s brows furrowed in confusion as he looked down at her, still holding his phone that was still connected with hers. 

“What—”

“Did Billy and his pals put you up to this? They were bored and decided to take a trip down memory lane? You get back to town and remember how much fun it was to pick at the little orphan girl?” Anne cried.

“Hey!” Gilbert shot back, voice raised as his expression turned dark. “That isn’t fair and you know it!”

“But it was a joke, wasn’t it? Were you just playing the long game? Working your way up to see what you could ask for? What I’d send you? You’re a doctor now, you don’t need the money. Was it for pictures, then?”

“Anne,” Diana gasped, going for her arm but Anne pulled it out of her reach.

Out of the corner of her eye, Anne could see that Cole was trying to shuffle the onlookers out of the kitchen, but that barely registered.Anne crossed her arms tightly over her chest to hide that her hands were shaking. She was practically holding her breath, almost afraid that her anger would release with the air in her lungs if she relaxed her muscles. What had been fear at first had turned to anger. But was now slowly trickling into hurt as the situation fully processed in her brain. That the guy she had been talking to was someone she knew. And it was Gilbert Blythe, her middle school rival.

She glanced away, swallowing roughly. When she looked back at him when he didn’t answer, he was just frowning at her with his expressive eyebrows.

“No,” he finally said, almost shaking his head sadly. 

Anne looked away again, finding a worried Diana who just gestured subtly at Gilbert. 

“No, it wasn’t a joke?” Anne muttered, holding herself tighter.

“Of course not,” Gilbert said incredulously. 

“Then what was it?” Anne asked, trying to stand straighter and look him in the face.

“Just… two people talking… Getting to know each other? It was whatever it seemed like it was,” Gilbert said, lifting his arm and letting it fall back to his side.

“Then why were you so hell bent on keeping your secret identity?” Cole piped up from behind Anne.

Gilbert sighed. He moved his hands to his waist but let them fall again, like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“I didn’t know who you were either,” Gilbert said to Anne imploringly. “And I’m sorry if I… I don’t know, worried you? I thought those serial killer comments were a joke. But I was just trying to stay private—”

“You would only talk to me at night and you were always whispering,” Anne said accusingly.

“So I wouldn’t wake up the kids,” Gilbert sighed, making Anne look away again. “I wasn’t going to plaster my information across the internet because I didn’t want to put them at risk. Then I just got… nervous, I guess. I just assumed a guy with a kid would freak people out…”

“‘People’ being… what? New friends?” Cole asked, making Diana shush him.

“Or… other things,” Gilbert hedged, stuffing his hands in his pockets apprehensively.

“‘Other things’ being… Ow,” Cole hissed, jerking away from Diana’s pointy elbow.

“I can’t say I would’ve ever gotten to this point. With you being an online stranger,” Gilbert started, sighing again through his nose. “But I did enjoy talking to you, Anne. Or Princess Cordelia. Whoever you are. And I can’t say I didn’t think… sometimes… about being more than just… online friends, I guess.”

Anne bit her lip as she shifted on her feet anxiously, her gaze on the floor. Her anger had now completely bled away, but her hurt was slow moving. It felt too good to be true for Gilbert (or UG) to talk like that, especially when it was just the complete opposite of the conclusions she had drawn. 

After a few silent moments, the music just buzzing background noise, Anne mumbled, “Oh.”

“Why don’t we all go sleep on it,” Diana said suddenly, her smile looking forced. “It looks like you have each other’s numbers, so let’s table this until tomorrow, hm?”

Gilbert looked like he wanted to argue, but Anne was moved out of there, stuffed between Diana and Cole, before he could say anything.

“Motherfucking plot twist,” Cole muttered as they pushed out of Ruby’s front door and onto the front lawn.

“We’re tabling!” Diana ordered. 

“You said—”

“Tabling! Everyone! We’re all tabling!” Diana said through her teeth, pushing a too-compliant Anne towards Cole’s car. “Are you good to drive?”

“Yeah, yeah—”

“Great. Let’s get home. Everything except a McFlurry is absolutely tabled,” Diana said firmly.

“Stop saying that, you’re giving me a headache,” Anne grumbled as she was shoved into the backseat of a car.

“Good, think about that instead.”

“Can we table headaches, too?” Cole wondered.

The next morning, Anne woke up earlier than she had planned, seeing as it was Saturday, and couldn’t go back to sleep because of her dehydration headache. But instead of doing anything about it, she just laid there. The previous night felt a bit like a dream, or a nightmare, but the more she stared at her ceiling, the more it came back to her. She should really do something, maybe text Ruby to apologize for leaving so abruptly or try to do something productive around the house, but stewing in embarrassment beneath her purple comforter seemed like the better choice since it didn’t involve any sort of movement. 

Her wallowing was maliciously interrupted by someone barging into her room without knocking.

“Come in,” Anne snarked, not looking away from the weird popcorn stuff on the ceiling.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Cole said dryly, throwing himself into the armchair she had in the corner of her room.

“Is it?”

“Is it what?”

“Good.”

Cole snorted. “You didn’t dance on any tabletops last night, I think you haven’t ruined your life yet.”

“I did start yelling at innocent strangers,” Anne mumbled.

“He’s hardly innocent. And hardly a stranger,” Cole reasoned before taking a loud bite of something that made Anne look over in interest.

“Is that a bagel? From the good place?! Where’d you get that?” Anne gasped, rolling over so she was facing him.

Cole hummed through his mouthful of strawberry cream cheese, then casually said, “Your visitor.”

“What?”

“You have a visitor. Might want to brush your hair,” Cole shrugged before expertly dodging the pillow Anne threw at him.

“Lede-burying shit,” Anne hissed, rolling off her bed and almost falling on her face when her feet got tangled in her sheets.

“She’s beauty, she’s grace—”

“Either give me the rest of that bagel or get the fuck out.”

“Might want to put on a bra, too. And take off that acne dot thing,” Cole suggested before scurrying out of the room, Anne’s noise of outrage following him out.

A few minutes later, after Anne made herself somewhat presentable, she walked out of her room. Warily. She turned the corner and was suddenly faced with Gilbert Blythe standing by their breakfast counter thing beside a bag of bagels and a few open containers of cream cheese. He looked a bit surprised to see her, which was stupid since this was her apartment, but Anne could only nervously lean against one of their stools and flip her braid back over her shoulder when she caught him staring at it.

When Gilbert refrained from speaking up, despite coming all the way over to her house for whatever reason, Anne just asked the question that had been running through her head while trying to get to sleep the night before.

“Did you know?”

Gilbert blinked. “Uh. Know what?”

“Who you were talking to? Did you know the whole time?” Anne asked, self-consciously tugging at the t-shirt she was wearing.

Gilbert shook his head immediately. “No, of course not. I had no idea, until last night.”

“How’d you figure it out, then?” Anne frowned.

“Your tattoo. Well… Maybe your laugh? It did sound familiar. But then you took off your jacket and I saw your tattoo, and it was the same one you sent me when we talked about tattoos that one time… Um, I brought your jacket, by the way. You left it in Ruby’s dryer,” Gilbert added, gesturing to a jean bundle almost hidden behind the brown bagel bag on the counter.

“Oh,” Anne mumbled. She glanced around the room, half wondering where her friends were hiding, and then sat on the stool beside her for the lack of anything better to do.

The silence continued for another few moments before Gilbert huffed softly.

“Look,” he said. “We uh… ended on the wrong foot, I guess. Do you want to take it back a few steps, maybe? I’m sorry if I made it weird. I really did enjoy talking to you, even if I didn’t know it was you, and I’d like to… keep doing that? And also catch up with an old friend?”

“Were we friends?” Anne couldn’t help but ask petulantly.

“I thought so,” Gilbert shrugged, looking a bit amused.

“Even though I almost gave you a concussion?” Anne muttered.

Gilbert grinned in reply. “I deserved it,” he shrugged.

“I don’t know if I can be friends with pigtail-pullers,” Anne said dryly, leaning against the counter.

“I am happy to report that I no longer do that,” Gilbert chuckled. “I’m a respectable doctor now, haven’t you heard?”

“And a father, apparently,” Anne couldn’t help but add.

Gilbert’s smile became a bit strained as he said, “Yes… that too. Um. I understand if that’s a bit of a deal-breaker…”

Anne tilted her head a bit as she looked at him, watching his eyebrows do half the work on his expressive face. She considered his… proposal, giving it the thought it deserved as it wasn’t one to take lightly despite the lightness in which it was offered. 

“No, it’s not,” Anne said eventually. “I think talking would be nice…”

“Oh. Great!” Gilbert said, looking honestly a little surprised. “That’ll make for a less awkward dinner, I suppose.”

“Are you inviting yourself to dinner?” Anne asked with amusement.

“I ran into Marilla at the bagel shop,” Gilbert explained. “She invited my family to dinner… I thought you wouldn’t mind since you did the same. Uh. I probably should’ve had this conversation first before I accepted.”

“Dinner sounds great,” Anne assured. “You’ll probably enjoy it more than the party, no one is going to interrogate you at Green Gables, I can promise you that. Um… you can cancel, though, if you want. Since you said you didn’t want me to know about your kid…?”

Gilbert shook his head, eyebrows dipping together again. “It wasn’t like that. I just. I did want to keep her private, then it felt weird to just drop into a conversation, then I didn’t want to scare you off. Um… Winnie and I are pretty adamant about, uh, not dating around her—”

“But you can have dinner with friends,” Anne said, almost too quickly.

“Avonlea seems a bit more welcoming than when I left,” Gilbert said, smiling and not looking away.

“It hasn’t changed much,” Anne said.

“Maybe it’s just me, then,” Gilbert shrugged.

“But you seem finally happy?” Anne blurted out before her cheeks started burning immediately. “Uh. Sorry. It’s from a song.”

“Don’t think I know that one. Maybe you can show it to me? Is it as depressing as the last documentary you told me to watch?” Gilbert asked with his trademark smirk.

“I warned you about that, don’t say I didn’t,” Anne shot back as she gave into her real desires and started rifling through the bagel bag to find the blueberry one that had to be there.

“But you keep sending me stuff where awful things happen to kids,” Gilbert countered.

“Because they’re interesting forays into psychology,” Anne informed him as she slid off the stool and made her way over to her toaster.

“Depressing forays.”

“You can’t handle the truth, Dr. Blythe?” Anne asked, her back to him, feeling a bit like they were talking on the phone like before. Just… in person.

“What about the show I told you to watch?” Gilbert asked, making himself at home at their breakfast counter and watching Anne fiddle with her bagel.

“That show is perfection, I just didn’t want to admit you were right,” Anne said, making Gilbert laugh. “Catherine O’Hara is the unofficial Queen of Canada in my books.”

“Won’t argue with that.”

“Good. Because you can’t.”

“I can find something else to argue about, if you want,” Gilbert said, Anne turning just in time to catch his grin.

“No arguments before coffee,” Anne informed him, taking a too-large bite of bagel to fortify herself as she started to fill the coffee machine with water.

“Afraid you’ll lose?” Gilbert asked slyly.

Anne glared at him as she chewed angrily. “You come into my kitchen—”

“And bring us bagels!” Diana walked in with a crumb-covered plate and started to dig through the bag for seconds. 

“From the good place,” Cole added, joining everyone else in the kitchen and making it a group conversation now. “So. Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room yet? Elephant-fish, if I may?”

“No,” Anne said immediately, hitting the button on the coffee machine with a bit too much force.

“I think we need to,” Cole said mock-seriously before turning to face Gilbert and his raised eyebrows.

“What—”

“So. How long have you been catfishing people?” Cole asked, barely batting an eye as Gilbert started to choke on his bagel.

The next night Anne made her way back to her childhood home for her weekly family dinner. It was a tradition that had been a bit difficult to keep up throughout college, but she was glad she always made it work. Moving out of Green Gables was one of the hardest things she’d ever done, but she could always return, and she could never be grateful enough for that.

When she pulled up, the sight of the old farmhouse made her smile like it always did. It was a lovely evening, and she knew she was going to have a lovely dinner, and all her worries for the following day, the dreaded Monday, just didn’t exist for a little bit.

Upon entering the house through the kitchen door, never having to knock in her whole life, Anne found that dinner was just being set on the table, but also that she was the last one there. 

Seeing Matthew and Marilla at the table was as expected and normal as her next breath, but finding two men and two children in the other chairs was as abnormal as it got for this place.

“Anne,” Marilla greeted, standing so Anne could immediately go in for a hug.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize I had gotten so lost in my planning,” Anne said, trying to will away her blush.

“You’re right on time,” Matthew said, making her smile as she leaned in for a hug, squeezing him extra tight.

Anne turned to greet their guests but found herself face to face with Gilbert, who had stood up from his seat but looked like he didn’t quite know why.

“Gilbert,” Anne said, aborting her decision to shake his hand and instead going in for a hug-greeting that honestly could have been more awkward, so there was that.

“Anne,” Gilbert said, shuffling away from her and turning to the others at the table. “Uh, this is my brother, Sebastian—”

“Just Bash is fine,” the other man said, his accent piquing her interest, as he grinned at her and reached out to shake her hand. “Great to finally meet you.”

“‘Finally’?” Anne asked, glancing at Gilbert, but he moved on immediately.

“This is his daughter, Delphine,” Gilbert continued, stepping back so she could smile at the little girl who immediately got on her knees so she could reach around Gilbert and shake Anne’s hand, which made her smile harder.

“Pleasure to meet you, Delphine,” Anne said, shaking her little hand.

“Uncle Gilby—”

“And this is Marie,” Gilbert interrupted, making his brother laugh as Delphine pouted at not being able to say whatever embarrassing thing Bash had taught her to.

Anne turned her smile to the little girl sitting in a booster seat on Gilbert’s other side.

“Pleasure to meet you, Marie,” Anne said, charmed by the shy smile the girl gave her behind the two fingers she had in her mouth. 

“Alright, let’s eat,” Marilla said and everyone obediently returned to their respective seats. “I hope everyone likes chicken.”

“No.”

The table turned to look at Marie who stared resolutely at Marilla.

Gilbert sighed and leaned over to his daughter.

“Yes you do,” Gilbert whispered. “You had chicken last night.”

“No.”

Gilbert looked like he was refraining from rolling his eyes as Bash coughed to cover up his laugh. 

“Chicken is in chicken nuggies,” Gilbert tried, taking the plate Marilla handed him and setting it down in front of Marie so she could see the tiny pieces that had been cut up for her.

Marie looked at her father distrustfully and then at the chicken. Then, as if it had been her idea all along, Marie took her fingers out of her mouth and replaced them with a piece of chicken she snatched off her own plate.

Gilbert looked a bit defeated but also like he was used to choosing his battles, so he just pushed her child’s fork closer to her, as a suggestion, and turned to his own meal. Sitting back in his chair, his eyes caught Anne’s and she failed at hiding the amused smile on her face.

“We’re turning into a contrarian these days,” he said with an apologetic grimace.

“All the better to keep you on your toes,” Anne teased.

“And you need it,” Bash said like he was giving Gilbert his diagnosis. 

“It looks great, Ms. Cuthbert,” Gilbert said politely, pointedly ignoring Bash, as everyone else dug in, the meal officially started by the youngest.

“It’s Marilla, and I won’t ask you again,” Marilla said firmly, making Anne laugh as Gilbert visibly gave in. “But thank you. I’m glad I ran into you yesterday. I heard you had returned but I take the latest gossip with a grain or two of salt, of course.”

“I thought I’d become an overnight celebrity,” Bash said after reaching over to make sure Delphine’s food didn’t touch on her plate, which obviously pleased her. “I walked into the grocery store and half the people in there knew who I was already.”

“I didn’t remember it being that bad as a kid,” Gilbert said dryly.

“It’s been years since we’ve had any kind of scandal,” Marilla said derisively. “You just chose to come back during a lull.”

“It does seem like a unique place, Avonlea,” Bash said. “I can’t say I’ve lived anywhere quite like it before.”

“Where else have you lived?” Anne asked, perking up. Just like she had yet to have a true romance in her life, she also hadn’t had the chance to see the world, both of which she hoped to remedy… someday.

“I grew up in Trinidad,” Bash began. “I did a lot of traveling on my own. Did some more with Blythe here after I became his guardian—”

“You two traveled together?” Anne asked, surprised.

“All over,” Bash grinned. “You didn’t tell her about our adventures, Gilby?”

“I haven’t had the chance,” Gilbert said flatly to his brother’s teasing. 

“Well, he’ll have to save some of those stories for later,” Bash said before starting a tale about things they did abroad that mostly served to embarrass Gilbert.

The rest of the meal went by quickly and was full of more (non-Anne) chatter than usual. Anne found that she really enjoyed herself, about which she hadn’t been too sure. Her and Gilbert were in a weird limbo situation, but their families getting together for a delightful meal felt almost normal and just damn pleasant. 

Once the kids scarfed down their small portions of dessert, with the adults lingering over theirs, Anne turned to them and asked, “Does anyone want to color?”

Delphine gasped and shot out of her chair. Marie looked less sure but saw that her cousin was into it, so nodded slowly.

“Great, me too,” Anne smiled, getting up and going to where her bag hung on the hooks by the door and pulling out some papers and crayons.

When she sat back down and doled out the crafts, actually taking a page for herself, Gilbert asked, “Did you bring those just for this?”

Anne shrugged. “There’s nothing more boring than adults talking,” she said like it was obvious before turning back to Bash and asking, “And then what did he do?”

“He fainted, of course,” Bash said, laughing at his own story as Gilbert sighed.

“You aren’t still afraid of needles, are you?” Marilla asked, actually looking concerned.

“He says he grew out of it,” Bash said, looking sarcastically unconvinced before leaning over to appreciate his daughter’s art upon request.

Anne felt a tiny tap on her arm and she turned to find Marie holding out her drawing.

“For me?” Anne gasped, only taking the haphazardly colored page when Marie nodded. “It’s beautiful, thank you very much. Do you want to do another? Here you go.”

Marie looked pleased as she pulled back, beginning another masterpiece with the only color crayon she wanted to use (purple). 

Anne placed the drawing safely away from the food and drinks and turned back to her dessert and to whatever Bash was now telling Matthew about the farming done on his home island. As she took a large bite of plum pudding, she realized Gilbert was looking at her instead of the others.

“What?” she said inelegantly through her mouthful, dabbing her mouth with her napkin self-consciously.

“Nothing,” Gilbert said lowly, so as not to interrupt Matthew on the other side of the table. “I just remembered that you said you’re a teacher. It shows.”

“It’s not difficult,” Anne said modestly, unsure if she wanted Gilbert to stop looking at her or never look away. “I think people just forget what it’s like to be a kid.”

“I do remember you having quite the adventures,” Gilbert said, his smile growing.

Anne shrugged, biting the inside of her cheek. “I might have gone a bit overboard, once I was able to really act like a kid, I guess,” she said.

“But I can’t imagine you forgetting what it’s like. Or, I can’t imagine you not imagining,” Gilbert said, a twinkle in his eye. He was then pulled away from their quieter conversation by Marie who whispered something in his ear then slyly got handed the last few bites of her father’s dessert.

“I just couldn’t fathom grading tests with nothing but short answer questions.”

“It’s not that bad,” Anne laughed as she walked with the middle school math teacher, Penelope, to the front office to check their mailboxes during their free period. “You really get an insight into how they think that way.”

“Trying to figure out where they went wrong in the middle of a formula is bad enough,” Penelope muttered.

“I definitely don’t envy anything that has to do with numbers,” Anne said, making a face at the very idea. 

She walked into the administrative office and immediately heard a little voice call out, “Miss Anne!”

Anne turned around and Delphine Lacroix was sitting in the chair outside the elementary school principal's office, little feet swinging above the ground. Anne barely heard Penelope chuckle and bid her adieu as she walked over to Delphine, her frown the opposite of the girl’s pleasant grin.

“And what’s going on here?” Anne asked, eyebrows raised at the child that seemed to have adopted half the animals at Green Gables with how often she visited them nowadays.

“I’m in trouble,” Delphine said, looking borderline delighted as she smiled up at Anne.

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” Anne said, unsure whether to be worried or laugh. “May I ask what happened? Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Delphine said plainly. “But Ricky’s not.”

“Delphine!”

“He wouldn’t stop poking me,” Delphine said, starting to pout. “So I pushed him.”

Anne had to clear her throat abruptly so she wouldn’t laugh. 

“Well. It’s not good to hurt anyone. But,” Anne started, holding her finger out when Delphine looked like she was going to argue, “it’s not good to touch anyone when they ask you to stop.”

“He wouldn’t listen,” Delphine whined.

“And that is very bad,” Anne agreed, which seemed to appease the little girl. “Next time, please go ask a teacher for help.”

“What if they don’t do anything?” Delphine asked smally, looking up at Anne for the real answers.

Anne sighed, glancing at the closed office door beside them. “Then find another adult you trust so they can help you. But if there isn’t one around… then you can push him down.”

Delphine’s eyes widened but she refrained from making the noise that threatened to escape her at Anne’s pointed look. Instead, she just hid her smile behind her hands.

“Are you going back to class?”

Delphine shook her head and said, “No. Daddy has to pick me up.”

“Mmm, I see. Would you mind if I waited with you, so you don’t have to wait alone?” Anne asked, gesturing to the empty seat beside her and then sitting down when Delphine shook her head. Anne then let Delphine tell her all about the movie she watched with her family over the weekend, giggling at the fact that Gilbert had fallen asleep halfway through when even Marie made it to the end. It wasn’t much later that Bash walked in, his eyes immediately finding his kid before blinking in surprise at Anne’s presence. 

“Anne,” he greeted in confusion before catching Delphine in a hug after she flung herself off the chair and across the room to where he stood.

“Mr. Lacroix,” Anne said, the corner of her mouth quirking up as she stood. “It seems we’ve had an eventful Wednesday.”

“Apparently,” Bash said, looking down at Delphine. “What’s happened this time?”

“Miss Anne said I could,” Delphine blurted out, eyes wide.

“As a last resort,” Anne hissed, cheeks flushing, just as the office door opened behind them and the principal called for Bash and Delphine to step inside, giving Anne time to make her escape back to her classroom in time for fifth period.

That afternoon, once school was let out and Anne was just finished with helping a student that had a few questions about their latest assignment, Anne’s phone buzzed.

She didn’t know the number, but she could make an educated guess based on what the text said.

Thanks for sitting with dellie

She said you gave her some advice

Tho Ive heard you are an expert

Anne scoffed and immediately replied with: “Do as I say, not as I do.”

Hopefully her teacher will do something next time

 

Tell her she can come to me (rm 400) if she feels like she can’t get what she needs from her teacher.

I trust most of the teachers I know, but I also know it’s hard to ask for help.

But maybe Ricky just needed to be taken down a peg.

 

[laughing emoji]

True

But thanks, ASC

Anne then got a text from a contact that was still labeled “UG.”

At least you didnt tell her to use a textbook

“Little girls need to learn about consent!” Anne typed back indignantly.

Oh I know

She does

And so does ricky

Whose ass i will kick

Just as a warning

Anne snorted as she pulled her bag over her shoulder and walked out of her classroom, locking up behind her.

He’s six

 

And needs to keep his hands to himself

He betterve learned his lesson

Like i did

 

Did you?

 

I did

Very much so

 

Good.

Maybe it was worth it then. Maybe every boy needs a good textbook to the head and the patriarchy will crumble within a generation

 

Not a bad idea, Carrots

“So you didn’t fucking learn your lesson, then, Gilbert Blythe,” Anne typed as she marched down the empty hallway, looking decidedly unimpressed.

Princess Carrots?

 

That’s Princess Shirley-Cuthbert to you.

Might have to Off With Their Head you if you keep making fun of my hair.

 

Not making fun

But i wont do it again

Cant tease a girl bc you like her hair

Itll get you almost concussed

See? I did learn my lesson

Anne’s footsteps slowed as she read the texts as they came in. Instead of replying, she slipped the phone into her purse and continued to her car. It was hard to tell over text if he was still joking, but maybe she had learned her lesson, just a little bit, when it came to assuming that someone was making fun of her when their genuinity surprised her.

When she got home, she pulled out her phone again and read the texts over as she kicked her shoes off by the door.

“Your boy texting you?” Cole asked from where he was apparently painting with cold coffee at the kitchen table.

“He’s not—”

“Isn’t he, though?” Cole said, tossing his paintbrush into a cup of water and looking over at her. “You guys’ve been talking for awhile, if you count the catfishing—”

“He wasn’t a catfish,” Anne groaned.

“And the dude’s over here. A lot. For someone who works so much, at least,” Cole said, giving her a look.

“ You’re here a lot,” Anne mumbled. 

“And you spend time with his kid—”

“ Because he’s not my— we’re not—”

“She’s, what, three? She won’t know the difference between her dad’s friend and her dad’s Friend ,” he said, with emphasis. “And he’s been hanging out with Moody and the guys, too, so he’s practically part of the gang again.”

“Don’t call us a gang—”

“If Rachel and Joey can date and not break up the band—”

“I’m definitely not a Rachel,” Anne said immediately.

“I’m not saying get married. Or turn down your dream job in Paris. Just ask the guy on a date!”

“I couldn’t…”

“Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. You are a modern freaking woman. I’ve heard your rants about women being able to kiss a man first,” Cole said sternly, wagging his finger at her, which made her roll her eyes.

“Where’s Diana, she’ll understand—”

“What, are you afraid?”

“Of course I am!” Anne blurted out incredulously, making Cole snap his jaw shut. “I can’t get a read on him and it’s just so confusing! I have no idea what he wants and he just doesn’t make sense!”

Cole didn’t say anything for a moment, just looking at her as she huffed in the middle of the apartment. Slowly, he reached for the bowl of chips beside him, narrowly missing putting his hand into the cup of cold coffee, and passive aggressively chomped on a single potato chip. He then said, “You want to know what I think?”

“Does it matter if I want to or not?”

“ I think ,” Cole continued, “that Gilbert Blythe is very easy to read and he is very obvious. You just want to pretend you’re illiterate.”

“What does that even mean,” Anne huffed.

“I’ll spell it out, then. He likes you and you just don’t want to see it, because it freaks you out.”

“Why would that freak me out?” Anne asked, crossing her arms.

“Because you don’t not understand him , you don’t understand why ,” Cole said, sitting back in his chair like he just hacked into the mainframe. 

“Why what?” Anne asked petulantly.

“Why he is into you, duh.”

Anne uncrossed her arms then crossed them again, visibly uncomfortable with this conversation now.

“Tell me why, then, if you’re so smart,” Anne muttered.

“Because you’re fucking great and he sees that,” Cole said, throwing up his arms. “He’s a bit of an idiot, I think, but he’s at least got that right. So grab the bull by the balls, and the boy by the horns, and show him that, yeah! You are fucking great! And he should make out with you to prove it!”

Anne groaned and covered her burning face in her hands. She heard Cole stand up and he was at her side a moment later, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and leading her over to the couch.

“Maybe just take this at face value, Anne,” he said as he pulled her down onto the couch with him. “A hot guy is into you. Enjoy it.”

“He can’t possibly be into me and be in his right mind,” Anne whined from behind her hands.

“He probably hasn’t been in his right mind since you hit him over the head,” Cole said cheerfully, making Anne groan, louder, into her hands. “But seriously. The guy’s like a moth around a porchlight with you. Everyone can see it. Now you need to just make a move and you’ve got yourself a hot doctor, my friend.”

Anne groaned even louder to try to drown him out as she slumped sideways onto the couch pillows, ignoring Cole’s sudden awful rendition of “Kiss the Girl.”

Anne tried to forget her conversation with Cole as the weeks passed and not much changed. She continued to enjoy her work and hang out with her friends when she could. It wasn’t all that different from how her life had been since she graduated, but now she suddenly had Gilbert Blythe in her life and it looked like he wasn’t going anywhere. 

Both were busy with their jobs, and his hours were the stuff of nightmares in her opinion, but they talked an awful lot. It was mainly texting, but he did like to call her when he had a break that wasn’t in the middle of the night or in the middle of a lesson for her. And, like Cole noted, he did visit their home somewhat frequently. Him and his family even came to quite a few more Sunday dinners at Green Gables, and Anne found herself looking forward to the times the Cuthbert trio were joined by the Lacroix/Blythes. She found herself texting Bash sometimes, and always waving at Delphine if she saw her at school, and genuinely enjoyed when Marie and Delphine brightened up the Green Gables kitchen just that much more. 

If she wasn’t careful, she might just get used to this. And Anne wasn’t sure what she’d do then.

But these new people were in her life just enough for her not to question why Gilbert was suddenly calling her right after her last class ended.

“Yes?” Anne answered, shoving her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she shuffled some papers into her bag.

“Are you at work?” Gilbert asked, his frantic tone making her sit up straighter.

“Yes?”

“Can you do me the world’s biggest favor?” Gilbert begged, what sounded like a locker slamming shut on his end of the call. 

“Of course,” Anne said immediately and without thought.

“Could you pick up the kids?” Gilbert asked desperately.

His phrasing made her cheeks heat up, which he thankfully couldn’t see. She frowned as she asked, “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah— I mean, I think Bash has the flu. And I just got called into work. And we’re idiots and haven’t found a permanent babysitter in Avonlea yet,” Gilbert rambled, sounding flustered and like he was moving around. “Winnie travels a lot, I need to check the calendar to see if she’s even in town— I called you first, but if you can’t, I can try her— I just thought of you and, well, you’re already at the school and the girls know you—”

“Gil,” Anne interrupted, not knowing where the nickname came from but going with it anyway. “I’ve got it, don’t worry. Did you call the administrator?”

“Yeah, they’ll both be in the after-school thing. I’ll call again and tell them you’re picking them up. They’ll know who you are, right?” Gilbert asked, his relief audible. “They will,” Anne assured. “Hey, why don’t I take them to Green Gables? They’ll be close to home that way and there’s more room.”

“I don’t know how long I’ll be, I can’t ask you to totally uproot everything—”

“It’s fine—”

“Just take them anywhere—”

“Take your children anywhere ?” Anne teased.

Gilbert huffed. “Okay, fine, that sounds wonderful. Thank you, Anne. I mean it.”

“You’re welcome,” Anne said sincerely, starting down the hall towards the gym the elementary and middle school shared. “Now hang up and call the school so they don’t think I’m kidnapping anyone.”

“Oh! Wait! The secret word is ‘applesauce’,” Gilbert said quickly before she could end the call.

“Uh… what?”

“Or else they won’t go with you. Okay, let me call the school. Thank you again!” Then he hung up.

Anne pulled her phone away from her ear and blinked down at it before dropping it into her purse. As she walked up to the gym, she saw the administrator that handled things like pick-ups standing with another teacher at the front. As she answered a call she got on her cordless office phone, which had to be a decade old at the very least, Anne stopped in front of them and waited with a polite smile.

When the administrator hung up the phone, Anne opened her mouth to speak, but the woman just said, “ID please.”

Anne laughed. “Martha—”

“ID, Ms. Cuthbert,” she said firmly, using the name all her students called her.

Anne sighed but accepted the firm use of the protocols as she started to dig through her purse for her wallet. Upon finding it, she slipped her identification from the pocket and held it out.

“Hm. Alright. Go find ‘em,” Martha said, granting her access to the gym where a small hoard of kids were being kept, each waiting for their parents or guardians. 

As soon as she walked in, Anne could see her two new charges. Her heart practically melted as she walked up to where Delphine and Marie were sitting on the gym mats, Delphine doing her best to read through what looked to be one of Marie’s books. As she got closer, Delphine noticed her and she lit up, which melted Anne’s heart completely.

“Miss Anne!” Delphine beamed and Marie looked up and behind Anne to see if anyone was with her.

“Good afternoon, Dellie. Marie,” Anne said, plopping herself down on the stack of mats beside them. “Did you two have a good day at school?”

Delphine nodded and Marie did the same but only after seeing Delphine’s answer.

“I’d love to hear about what you did. Do you have any homework, Dellie?”

“I have to read in my book,” Delphine said, pointing to her backpack.

“That doesn’t sound too bad. I love to read. Maybe we can read together, how does that sound?”

“And me?” Marie piped up.

“Of course you,” Anne said with a smile. “That’s why I’m here. Your daddy doesn’t feel too well, Dellie, and yours had to go to work, Marie. Would you two be alright if we went to Green Gables for dinner?”

“With you?” Marie asked and Anne nodded.

“Did my daddy call you?” Delphine asked skeptically. 

“Your Uncle Gilbert did,” Anne said. “And he called the school, too.”

Delphine stood up so she was partially in front of Marie and crossed her arms, looking so adorably stern that Anne had to painfully bite back a smile.

“What’s the password?” Delphine demanded. 

“Applesauce,” Anne said dutifully, realizing what Gilbert meant and appreciating it. “Thank you for asking.”

“Can we see Butterscotch?” Delphine asked, immediately appeased. “Marie wants to see Butterscotch!”

“And Butterscotch wants to see you two, too,” Anne chuckled, standing up and wiping off the back of her pants. “Grab your stuff, please.”

Once everyone had their belongings, Anne held out both hands and each girl grabbed on and they made their way out of the school as fast as Marie’s little feet could take them. When they got to her car, Anne stopped, because there were two things sitting on the hood of her car. Upon closer inspection, they were carseats. Anne let go of Delphine’s hand to pull her phone out, on instinct, and saw she had a few more texts from Gilbert.

Also I dropped off their carseats on the way to work

Unless someone stole them

Maybe i shouldve taken them inside

 

What was your plan if I said no?

 

Uh

Ask you to give the carseats to whoever i could bribe to get the kids

Or see what you could get on ebay

 

You were going to bribe someone? You didn’t try bribing me…

 

G2g

Do you take checks?

Anne shook her head and then started the complicated process of packing kids into a car, thankful she had no actual plans because it took way longer than she anticipated.

Later that night, with two kids conked out upstairs that wouldn’t appreciate the interruption, Anne answered the door when she heard the knock.

“It’s so late, I’m sorry,” Gilbert sighed immediately, looking as tired as he sounded.

“It’s fine,” Anne brushed off, stepping aside so he could come in. 

“It’s really not, this was way too much to ask. It’s past any normal person’s bedtime and now you’ve had to stay up to wait for me. Here,” Gilbert said, tugging his wallet out of his scrub pants. “I need to at least pay you back for gas. Or, what do babysitters make around here?”

“No way,” Anne laughed, realizing how close she was standing to him in the quiet farm kitchen when she closed the small distance between them to put her hand on his arm. “I said it’s fine and I meant it, Gil. You don’t need to pay me, I had fun. I’ll look after those angels anytime, I swear.”

“They’re not always angels,” Gilbert mumbled.

“Well, they were this evening. I like watching them, I mean it,” Anne insisted, pushing his arm back down to his side.

Gilbert put his wallet away but then just stood there, looking at her with his heavy gaze and expressive eyebrows. His stupid mouth was doing that thing it always did that made it seem like he was amused by something, but not in a malicious way.

“You mean that,” he said and Anne gave him a look.

“Do you think I’m lying?” she asked a little incredulously.

“No,” Gilbert said, his energy not rising with hers. “I just… didn’t expect you.”

“Expect me here?” Anne asked, tilting her head in confusion.

“In general,” Gilbert said, but didn’t elaborate further. Nor did he look away from her.

Anne’s head stayed tilted slightly as she looked up at Gilbert, her own brow furrowed just a bit, like she was trying to figure out the answer to a riddle. Cole said Gilbert was easy to read, but Anne was still unconvinced. Now, like he always did, Gilbert had that infuriating smile on his face, and he kept his eyes on her like she would disappear if he dared look away. It wasn’t anything new… but maybe that was the point. As Anne’s heart started to beat just a little faster, she wondered if the point was that Gilbert was hard to read in a certain kind of way. Like when you look at a word too long and it loses all meaning. But you know, intellectually, what that word is and have for most of your life. It just looks foreign because you’re staring at it too long and too hard.

Anne felt her mouth twist in bemusement and Gilbert’s eyebrow raised in response.

“What?” he asked, his voice low to match the quiet house.

“I’m a modern freaking woman,” Anne said slowly and out of the blue. But before Gilbert could laugh and ask her what she was talking about, she was lurching onto her toes and pressing her mouth to his, her hand automatically reaching up to grip the front of his scrub shirt.

And then, as soon as it registered, as soon as she realized what she was doing, and the fact that Gilbert’s arms were painfully still at his sides made it to her brain, Anne jerked back like she had been stung.

“Shit,” Anne muttered under her breath as she also realized her hand was still holding onto him and she wrenched it to her side where it flexed like she was in a period drama. Her eyes wide, her heart now racing, and her face burning, Anne stared at Gilbert, almost afraid to look away.

Gilbert blinked. He didn’t look angry, or particularly gobsmacked. He just looked like he hadn’t expected her to do that. Which made Anne immediately assume that he hadn’t wanted her to do that.

“Shit,” she said again, taking another step away from him. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I—”

“Miss Anne?” a hesitant voice called from the top of the stairs. 

“I’ll just,” Anne started before simply turning to go see what Delphine needed and to bring her and Marie down to Gilbert so they could get home.

“Anne—”

But Anne didn’t turn back.

After herding Gilbert out of the house with his arms full of sleeping children, Anne took herself back to her own home and promptly ignored her phone for the rest of the weekend. To her surprise, Gilbert texted her throughout, but mainly just with requests for them to talk, without elaborating. Even Bash texted her on Gilbert’s behalf. And Anne knew she would need to grow up and face the music for her impulsive actions, but she thought a few days of wallowing in misery were deserved before she had to deal with being rejected to her face. She didn’t exactly tell Diana or Cole what happened, just some mumbled excuse, but that was a conversation she almost looked forward to less than whatever Gilbert wanted to say to her. She wanted to be annoyed with Cole, since he had been so wrong, but she knew he meant well, even if he had been so very wrong .

On that very tiring Monday, Anne left the school building during her free period to grab something she forgot in her car. It looked like the preschool children had been released and Anne let herself be entertained by the tiny humans toddling about as adults tried to keep them in line. As she made her way back to the front doors, locking her car again with her key fob, Anne almost tripped when something ran into the back of her legs.

She twisted to look behind her and found the beaming face of Marie Blythe staring up at her.

“Marie Rose,” someone chastised, the sound of heels on concrete getting closer until they stopped. “I’m sorry…”

Anne turned and this time found the unfairly gorgeous face of Gilbert’s ex looking down at her.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Anne said, clearing her throat. “I think she’s just excited she ran into me at school like Dellie always does. Literally in this case, though. Is that right?”

Marie nodded up at Anne.

The woman (Winnie?) frowned as she gestured to her daughter. “You know—”

“Yes, sorry! I work here but I’m also a friend of Gilbert’s,” Anne explained, reaching her hand out to politely shake Winnie’s. “Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Winnie looked a bit surprised for some reason. “Winifred Rose,” she introduced as she shook Anne’s hand with hers before resting it on top of Marie’s head. “You’re Gilbert’s… G-I-R-L friend…?”

“What?” Anne laughed with just a touch of hysteria. “No, no. Just a friend. He moved back to his old house? Which is near my parents’ farm. So I knew him when we were younger and all that.”

Winifred still looked skeptical and Anne couldn’t fathom why. But she was saved by Marie getting her attention and gesturing for her to come down to her level. When Anne did, Marie whispered their plans for the rest of the day to her.

“You’re going to the zoo?” Anne gasped as she crouched in front of the little girl. “I love the zoo. Go see the big cats for me, okay? Pinky promise?” She held out her pinky finger, which the girl immediately copied, and Anne showed her how to link them together. She then stood back up and said, “You two have fun. It was nice meeting you, Winifred.”

Winifred politely said her goodbyes and Anne turned back to the school, trying not to actually trip and embarrass herself any more. When she got back to her empty classroom with minutes to spare until the bell rang, Anne whipped out her phone.

“Why does your ex think I’m your girlfriend???” Anne typed, feeling that touch of hysteria growing.

Uh?

She asked if I was seeing anyone

I said no

When I thought you didnt uh

Like my like that

me

But

Can we talk about that? In person?

 

Okay.

And Anne threw her phone into her desk drawer like it was on fire and refused to think about it for the rest of the day.

As soon as the bell rang for the students to be released, Anne’s phone rang too. 

She took a deep breath, waving at her students as they filed into the hallway, and answered the call before she chickened out.

“Hello?”

“Anne,” Gilbert said, sounding like he was surprised she answered. “Hi.”

“Hi…”

“You uh… you met Winnie today?"

“I did,” Anne said slowly, absently pushing a few chairs under desks. “She was picking up Marie. And Marie wanted to say hi and tell me that they were going to the zoo.”

“Oh. Yeah. She was very excited about the zoo…”

“Mhm,” Anne hummed. And then waited.

“Are you done with work?” Gilbert asked suddenly.

“I am.”

“Do you think we could meet up? I could be at your place in, like, fifteen?”

Anne took a deep breath and moved her phone so she could let it out noisily. She honestly had no idea what was going on now and knew she just needed to get some answers. So she said, “Okay.” And then hung up on him in a quick panic.

It took Anne longer than fifteen minutes to get home, but she figured someone would let him in and he could use that extra time to realize she wasn’t worth the trouble and get out of there before she arrived so he’d never have to see her again.

But when she walked through the door, Gilbert was sitting on the couch with Diana.

“Look who I found on the doorstep,” Diana said cheerfully before widening her eyes at Anne behind his back when Gilbert turned towards the front of the apartment.

“Yeah. Hey,” Anne said, toeing her shoes off and setting her bag by the door, awkwardly tugging at her blouse.

“Hey,” Gilbert repeated. He stayed sitting for a beat before standing in one smooth motion, not taking his eyes off her. 

Diana stood up from the couch and silently left the room to escape the awkwardness, ignoring Anne’s pleading looks that followed her until she shut the door on them. 

Now alone with him, Anne felt like this was a mistake. All of it had to be a misunderstanding. Winifred probably got mad and Gilbert had to straighten it all out before Marie got wind of it. Whatever “it” was. Regretting a good chunk of her life decisions, Anne made herself join Gilbert in the living room, her arms awkwardly crossing over her chest even though she knew that action made this blouse kind of sit weird on her.

“Um. Thanks for having me over,” Gilbert said and Anne just nodded. Gilbert looked like he was waiting for her to say something, but, when she didn’t, he did. “So. About what I said. In my texts.”

“It’s alright,” Anne sighed, not meeting his eye. “I corrected Winifred and told her we were just friends. She just misheard you, I guess?”

Gilbert frowned, eyebrows dipping close. “No. I mean, yes. But… we aren’t. Right?"

“Aren’t what?” Anne asked, her stomach tightening. She wouldn’t blame him for not even wanting to be her friend any longer, but she couldn’t deny that the idea hurt.

“Friends. Just friends,” Gilbert said, talking a half step closer to her. “You… you surprised me the other night. When you kissed me. I had convinced myself that you didn’t see me like that… But I guess I should’ve asked instead of just assuming…”

“Assuming… what,” Anne breathed, half wondering if she was mishearing everything he said.

“That you didn’t want to be more than friends. Which is what I wanted. What I still want…”

Anne let out all the air in her lungs in one breath as she met his gaze, feeling it draw her in like a magnet. 

“Okay,” she heard herself say.

“Okay?” Gilbert asked, raising an eyebrow as his mouth twitched, as if it didn’t dare turn into a smile yet.

“Okay. Let’s be more than friends,” Anne said, a giggle stopping in her throat that couldn’t escape since she was suddenly being kissed in a way that she previously believed only existed in books and movies. Hysterically, she thought that her foot might actually pop, just as Gilbert’s hand slid into her hair and she melted against him.

When Cole came home some time later and caught them making out on the couch, it took all of Diana’s strength to push him out of the living room so they could go to his room to gossip about what she had learned from her eavesdropping.