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“Dashing! White! Sergeant!” Gilbert Blythe punctuated each frustrated exclamation with a kick to the ground, sending pine cones and pebbles scattering across the forest floor. Just when he thought he had his life figured out - just when he thought he had Anne figured out - they had to go and share that blasted dance practice. She had been so full of joy… and the way she looked at him…
But Anne had made perfectly clear that she had no feelings for him. She’d made that more than clear, which was why he’d been so glad to meet Winnie in the first place. But if he was so happy with Winifred, why was his heart still racing from the dance practice? Why was he still focusing on those few magical moments with Anne? And why was he even thinking of those moments as magical in the first place?
“Ughhh!” he growled aloud in frustration, kicking again and sending some leaves flying. It was then he realized he was in a part of the woods he hadn’t really ventured into before.
And more than that, he wasn’t the only one there.
“Ugggghhh!” a frustrated voice - a female voice - cried out, echoing his frustration. He couldn’t quite see where the mysterious voice was coming from, but it was somewhere near.
“Princess Cordelia would never be in this situation!” the voice continued, leaving him in little doubt as to whom the voice belonged. A small, ramshackle hut had come into view, decorated with found objects from the woods and surrounded by tiny sculptures, sadly broken. It was a shame… they would have looked exactly like forest sprites. The place screamed Anne. Even if he hadn’t heard her voice, he would have known this was her haunt.
Not realizing that she had an audience of sorts, Anne continued on her rant. “Princess Cordelia would know exactly who she was in love with… and she wouldn’t run away from him after dancing with him!”
Gilbert froze, not trusting what he’d heard.
“And then… and then! To be intercepted by Charlie Sloane of all people! When I was very clearly needing to sort out my emotions! And for him to say that I can’t have children because I’m too emotional?” Anne groaned loudly again. Gilbert was near enough to hear her flop down against something in frustration.
"Why does growing up have to be so complicated?” she sighed heavily.
Gilbert knew he needed to leave, but he couldn’t make himself quite yet.
Anne sighed again. “And why, why, dear forest spirits, did I have to fall in love with Gilbert Blythe?”
Gilbert couldn’t believe his ears. How had he so thoroughly misunderstood her? He wanted to burst into that little hut and tell her the truth - tell her that he loved her, too - but -
He stopped himself. He knew Anne. He knew - even with her recent confession taken into account - that she would shout and yell and not talk to him for weeks if she were to discover that he’d overheard that confession. If she were to see him here, now… it would take months to regain her trust and friendship, if ever.
Still… he smiled to himself as he slowly backed away, heading back toward home. This certainly cleared some things up. He’d need to have a talk with Winifred, but at least they’d not made any plans yet. He’d intended to ask her to come to the fair with him, but now…
Well, maybe the Dashing White Sergeant wasn’t so bad after all.