A/N: This story is inspired by the mini-series 'Lost in Austen' in which a girl finds a portal into Jane Austen's 'Pride and Prejudice'. I thought that I could take the idea and apply it to Anne of Green Gables, because it is a story that I love and think that it would be interesting if someone from our time were to change places with Anne Shirley. The characters (with the exception of Aurelia Collins) belong to LM Montgomery. No infringement is intended.

Chapter I

How's It Gonna Be?

I sat in the train station, waiting. My loving, caring does-as-little-as-possible social worker left me here to wait for my new foster family. I can't really blame her though; it isn't like I don't know what is going on. I have done this plenty of other times on my own, and the system has become overrun with children in need of foster care. Being a thirteen year old orphan is not as bad as some people may think. I came to grips a long time ago with the fact that my parents died. It wasn't their fault that a drunk driver hit them on their way back from dinner on their anniversary when I was four.

It isn't like I don't know the statistics of children my age being placed in a permanent home. I have zero allusions about my life and where I am heading. If I am not shuffled from home to home, I will be stuck in a group home until I am eighteen. And then I'll be out on my own.

Maybe that is why I desperately love the world that LM Montgomery created. When I was seven, my foster family gave me the book Anne of Green Gables for Christmas. It was impossible for me to keep from identifying with Anne. It was like she and I were living the same life, only a hundred years apart.

As I pulled out the frayed and tattered copy of the novel I so loved, I ran my fingers along the cover, tracing the letters. As I said, I have no allusions about my life, but that doesn't mean I can't daydream every once in a while, does it? Sometimes I imagine that Diana Barry is my best friend, or that Gilbert Blythe has winked at me from across the room. I imagine the loving, tender arms of Matthew Cuthbert around me as I cry about how the other children in school tease me. Trust me, I understand how silly the fantasy is; but with little else to look forward to in my dismal life, I often daydream of my escape to Prince Edward Island.

Anne had no idea how good she had it.

I opened up the book to Chapter two, 'Matthew Cuthbert is Surprised'. As I read the lines, lines that I had long-since memorized, that now played themselves over and over in my head, I heard a faint tapping on the glass of the window behind me.

As I turned to look at the girl that stared back, for a moment it appeared to simply be my reflection. The girl that stared back at me had long hair in braids with freckles dotting her nose and cheeks. But the piercing green eyes that looked at me were not my own, and the gasp that escaped my lips was quite audible.

"Katie?" the girl mouthed as I stared at her in disbelief.

I shook my head, wondering how any dream could feel as real as this did. I couldn't even remember falling asleep in the train station.

Green eyes squinted, as red brows pulled together in a furrow. She pointed toward the door and I nodded, standing very cautiously, clutching my book tightly to my chest as I walked toward the door that led out onto the streets of Boston. Mrs. Morgan had told me very plainly not to go wandering, but my intention was not to go anywhere. Besides, if I was dreaming, there wasn't anywhere to go.

My hand reached the knob on the door just as it turned under my touch. I jumped back and watched as it swung open and my eyes widened as I realized who I was staring at in the doorway. She extended a hand to me, her index finger reaching out and I did the same, gasping again as our fingers touched.

"A-A-Anne…" I stuttered.

Now her eyes widened as I addressed her by name. "Anne Shirley?" I questioned again, sure now, that she was who I thought.

"Are you not Katie?" she asked, curious. "My window friend? But then how do you know my name? And your clothes Katie, they are quite strange for a girl, aren't they?"

"I suppose for you they would be," I said, after a moment, looking down at my jeans and t-shirt. "And no, I am not Katie; although I do consider myself a kindred spirit. My name is Aurelia, but I go by Lia. And I don't usually talk this much."

Anne nodded, "I understand. I, on the other hand, do tend to prattle on, or so everyone tells me. Tell me now, kindred friend, Lia, how did you come to be in Katie's world through the window? I have long-since dreamed of a day that I might step through the glass and live there." As if on cue, Anne stepped through the doorway, her carpetbag in one hand and her hat in the other. "So many strange looking folk in the world of glass, Lia. What is this place?"

I glanced back, looking at the buzz of people who didn't seem to notice Anne and I. "The train station in Boston."

"What a playground for the imagination," Anne said, awestruck. "I have never imagined a place like this, Lia. What a beautiful name Aurelia is. I, myself often pretend that my name is Cordelia because of how beautiful it is. When I call myself Cordelia I pretend that I have starry violet eyes and rose-leaf complexion. Tell me Lia, what is the train station in Boston like? Might I have a look around?"

I didn't know that it was such a good idea. How long would this dream last? I couldn't be sure, but I wanted to look around her world just as much as Anne wanted to look around mine. I nodded, taking a step forward through the doorway and glanced around the train platform where Anne waited for Matthew Cuthbert's arrival. It was just as I had imagined it. And how old did she look? About the same age as me, so was she waiting here for him?

I shook my head. This was a dream; a dream caused by my unconventional love of the novel and the characters. That's all this was. I will wake up, and meet my new foster family and go on with my life.

And that's when the door to the train station slammed shut and I was stuck on the platform in Bright River. I turned around, pounding on the door.

"Anne!" I yelled. "Anne, the door is stuck! Can you get it open from your side? Oh try Anne, please!"

But I didn't hear anything on the other side. No bustle of travelers in the busy Boston train station, no knocks or whistles or yelling. It was just silent.

This was not good. Here I was, stuck on the train platform, with Matthew on his way to pick up Anne, and she was stuck in Boston in the year 2009 and very much not in a novel. Not good at all. I sat down on the bench, dropping my backpack and glancing down at the book. There was nothing in my book about Anne talking to Katie on the train platform, but none of that would matter at all as long as I woke up as I should. I pinched myself in the arm; I had seen people on TV do that to wake themselves up from a dream. I pinched over and over again, each time harder than the last. But nothing worked.

I gulped, hearing footsteps on the platform. No no no! This is all wrong! Matthew adores Anne, he gives Marilla the idea to keep her in the first place. This story is never going to work out with me here and her there.

I heard Matthew talking to the stationmaster. I could hear the words in my memory as loudly as in my ears, telling Matthew to 'question the girl'.

Matthew came around the corner, taking his hat off and furrowing his brow.

"I suppose you are Mr. Matthew Cuthbert?" I questioned, clutching the book inside my jacket and picking up my backpack which held all of my earthly possessions.

He nodded, looking just as shy as I imagined him to look. I remembered the words of the story. Matthew apologizing for being late, Anne chatting away on the buggy ride home. I found myself giddy for the ride through the country-side toward Green Gables. Of meeting Marilla and Diana Barry. I had dreamed of this so many times that it seemed silly for it to be happening. No, this had to be another of my silly dreams.

But then why was I not Anne? And the bigger question. Why on earth was I not waking up?

"I know that I am not the boy that you came here for, Mr. Cuthbert, but if you would please, hear me out, I will just set everything right and this story can get back to the way it's supposed to be."

Matthew's brow pulled into a deeper furrow and he took a cautious step forward. "I suppose I should get you back to Green Gables. Marilla will know what to do."

I cleared my throat and nodded, pulling my bag up onto my shoulder. I couldn't even imagine how silly I looked to him. Jeans and a t-shirt with my worn denim jacket and canvas backpack. Girls didn't wear things like that here, or then. Since it was more a matter of time than place.

Matthew helped me into the buggy and then took a seat beside me. He was just as silent as I had expected as he pulled onto the dirt road. When Matthew turned onto the Avenue, I knew it instantly. The beautiful flowering white trees were more stunning than I had imagined.

"The White Way of Delight," I said quietly, taking in the beautiful scent of the apple blossoms. "Oh Matthew," I exclaimed. "Is this The Avenue?" I turned to look at him, and his face was stunned.

"You've been here before?" He questioned, quietly.

I shook my head. "No but I have heard so much about this place. A friend of mine calls it the White Way of Delight. Isn't it a much more fitting name for a place this filled with beauty?"

Matthew smiled. I could see what Anne loved so much about his quiet gentleness. Matthew was the most kindred of kindred spirits; caring and compassionate without ever saying much. Matthew was often what I pictured my own father to be like; dependable and reliable, hardworking and so loving.

I did not say much on the rest of the drive to Green Gables. I was consumed by the beauty of all of the sights; Barry's pond, the Avenue and most of all the rolling hills of Green Gables. I had not imagined what would happen once we had gotten back to the house. I knew exactly how Marilla had treated Anne, and even though in the end she had agreed to let Anne stay with them, I was no Anne Shirley.

I placed my bag on the floor in the entranceway of the house. I could hear Marilla moving from the kitchen to the front room and my body tensed up.

"What is the meaning of this, Matthew?" She asked, her voice not masking any of the confusion or irritation at the sight of my blonde braids and feminine physique.

"Ms. Cuthbert, I-"

"Dressing a girl in jeans and a boy's shirt does not a boy make, Matthew. Again, what is the meaning of this?"

"There were no boys there," he stammered, unsure of himself. "Just her."

I raised a brow, concerned about how uneasy I felt around them. The characters from my beloved story, talking about what to do with me. I, of course, knew what I hoped would be the outcome of this, but I had not the vocabulary nor the wit that Anne Shirley possessed. And for as long as I could remember, I could not understand why Marilla agreed to keep Anne; but I had a sneaking suspicion that I would not be so lucky.

"Ms. Cuthbert, if I may… I understand that I am not the boy that you sent for. But I can promise you, that if you decide to keep me, I will be on my best behavior, I will never argue with you, I will allow you to raise me any way you see fit. I promise you I don't often talk, and my daydreaming will be confined to the place where I currently stand, as it were. There is nothing I would like more than to stay here at Green Gables. To have a place to belong."

Marilla's face went through so many expressions that I could not decipher them all.

"What is your name, child?"

"Aurelia Collins, Ms. Cuthbert. I am thirteen years old and I-"

"That is quite enough for now, Aurelia. Do you have a nightgown, or did the orphanage give you boy's pajamas as well?"

I cleared my throat; how unnerving it was being around her. "I have a nightgown, m'am."

Marilla nodded. "Up the stairs, you may sleep in the east gable tonight. We will bring you back to the train station in the morning."

I gulped and picked up my bag, taking it up the stairs with me and quickly finding Anne's room, with the windows facing the East.

This was the most intoxicating dream I have ever had. After changing into my pajamas, I climbed into bed and pulled out the book. I could not decide if I wanted them to keep me or send me back. If this really was a dream, I would awake and it would not matter what happened to me. But if, by some strange fate, I had actually switched places with Anne Shirley, then I would need to get back to the train station and get her here. She had to live with the Cuthbert's so that she could meet Gilbert. If she didn't meet Gilbert, the entire world would hate me.