Disclaimer: This is strictly a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people is coincidental. “Anne of Green Gables” is a trademark of the Anne of Green Gables Licensing Authority Inc. I’m making no money from this.

A/N: I liked the first two movies (haven’t seen the third) but am far more familiar with the books, so this story is based solely on the books. Constructive criticism is appreciated; flames are not.

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When I looked up from my sums I noticed Gilbert Blythe silently reaching across the aisle towards Anne. Gilbert sure did like to tease the girls something awful…and that’s when I realized that Anne’s temper plus Gilbert’s merciless teasing would not equal good things.

He grabbed Anne’s braid and whispered: “Carrots! Carrots!”

I noticed a dark look cross Anne’s face and I could feel her body beside me about to spring up.

One day I was lying on the couch reading a novel and I lamented to my mother that I could never be anything like Anne. I was just a plump, plain, practical girl, nothing like imaginative Anne with her slender figure and distinct nose and hair. Her temper, I thought, as a small price to pay for the energy that was in her. When she entered a room, everything just seemed more alive.

“Diana Barry,” scolded my mother, unsympathetic. “That Anne Shirley will get into more scrapes than you can think of, mark my words, and then you’ll see it’s good to be practical. Now come help with these preserves.”

My mother’s words came back to me in a flash as I laid a hand on Anne’s shoulder.

“Anne, Anne,” I said, sounding more pleading than I would have liked, “You’re not nearly done your sums yet and Mr. Phillips is bound to call on you sooner rather than later.”

Anne cast one last scornful glance at Gilbert before realizing what I had said. I could feel her shoulders slumping and she leaned forward over her slate. She returned to her academic self, the picture of intense concentration, determined to catch up to the fifth reader. I hoped the look I cast at Gilbert would make him understand that Anne was a girl who did not like to be teased about her hair, but Gilbert was already looking around for his next victim, head moving around like a pigeon’s.

“That Gilbert is just so handsome,” intoned Josie. “I think he likes me,” she continued, dropping to a whisper. I knew it was impolite, but I couldn’t help myself. That smirk of Josie’s just invited eye-rolling.

We were loitering outside the school. I had stopped Josie to ask her to talk to her cousin Gertie for me, but I was beginning to regret it.

“Well he is certainly handsome,” said Anne, sounding indignant. “But so very rude!”

“Anne, he didn’t mean anything by it! He makes fun of girl’s hair all the time. Why, I can’t count the number of times--”

But here I was interrupted by Josie.

“Look! He’s heading our way!”

I noticed the stubborn set in Anne’s jaw.

“Yes, well we have got to be heading out now, be sure to tell Gertie that I will speak to her if I get a proper apology…” I started explaining to Josie. But it was too late; Gilbert was upon us.

“Hello ladies,” he said, and he exaggeratedly lifted his cap off his head in greeting.

“Hello Gilbert,” simpered Josie.

“Hello,” I said. Gilbert nodded at me and Josie, and then turned his look to Anne and waited.

And waited.

“Diana,” said Anne, with her haughty queen-like air that she sometimes affected. At least she finally broke the awkward silence. “I’ve got to get home and help Marilla with the cooking. Matthew’s putting in an extra-hard day of work to get all the potatoes in on time. Let’s get going, shall we?” She looped her arm through mine and dragged me away. I knew Anne would never stay so I let myself be pulled but put a bit of resistance since I wanted to listen to what Gilbert and Josie were saying.

“What did I do to her?” I could hear Gilbert ask Josie.

“Oh, probably nothing,” answered Josie with disdain. “She’s always like that.”

“You really ought to forgive him Anne,” I said, on our way up to school the next morning. “He doesn’t even know what he did!”

“He knows perfectly well what he did,” said Anne. “And he owes me an apology.”

I sighed. Anne was determined to be unfriendly towards Gilbert, and there wasn’t much I could do about it. Unless…

After another morning’s lessons lunchtime had arrived. Anne was far away frolicking in the flowers and I took the opportunity to take Gilbert aside. Boys and girls alike cast us looks that were bound to blossom into gossip about us. I ignored them. This was far more important – Anne liked to, no, Anne had to be loved by everybody, and though the Pyes were a lost cause I wouldn’t allow Gilbert to be another “thorn in her soul”, as she would put it. She hid it, but I knew it would simply tear her apart.

“Diana,” offered Gilbert in greeting.

“Gil,” I said. “Anne’s hair colour is a sensitive subject to her. I know you only meant to tease but it still offended her. I’m sure if you apologize and explain yourself, she’ll likewise apologize for slighting you”.

I wish I was nearly so eloquent.

“You’ve got say sorry to Anne,” I blurted out instead.

“What?” he asked with a confused look.

“Just, say sorry, okay?”

He got an angry look on his face.

“I didn’t do anything to her!” he said, and walked away. I sighed. That didn’t go as planned at all.

Then I heard Jimmy Glover shout from the top of a tree: “Master’s coming.”

I spotted Anne in the distance. She really was further away than I had thought. I started running back, hoping that she’d be able to get in on time. I took my seat and noticed Anne come in just a short time later, followed by a pack of boys. I sighed in relief.

But Mr. Phillips wasn’t feeling kind that day.

“Anne Shirley, since it doesn’t seem as if you like to be in the company of girls, I’ll have you sitting alone this afternoon,” he said sarcastically. “Diana.” I looked up at him, startled. “Go sit with Gilbert Blythe. And Anne, take those flowers out of your hair.”

Anne looked at me forlornly and really made a pathetic figure, picking the rice lilies off her hair. I took up my school materials and moved towards Gilbert.

“Diana,” he said with a charming smile. I felt my heart flutter a bit. Then he dropped his voice so Mr. Phillips wouldn’t overhear him: “I’m sorry Mr. Phillips punished you and Anne. Most of the boys came in later than she did!”

“Yes, I know,” I said, hesitant to say anything more. I knew my mother didn’t approve of talking that way about a schoolteacher…then again, Marilla approved even less, and that didn’t stop Anne. “But…” and here I looked at Anne staring at the window, undoubtedly dreaming up fairy castles and romantic heroes, and took courage, “I’m awful glad I got seated with you.” Gilbert looked a little astonished and I worried that I had been too bold. “Um, instead of with any of the other boys. You’re the best of the lot.”

I was just digging myself in further.

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If you want some better Anne reads I recommend Blythe Spirit and its sequel, Unromantic Ideal, by Morte Rouge, as well as Dora’s Tale, by Emily-in-the-glass