"I don't think you understand, love. I don't GO to the frat boys. The frat boys come to ME."
In a silk robe with the words, 'Diva,' emblazoned on the front, Phil lounged atop her velvet burgundy king sized bed that resided pristinely in the otherwise chaotic furnishings of the Patty's Place living room. The remaining residents had hesitantly conceded to Phil's begging to let her live with them in Anne's absence, but since the blue room would sadly be unoccupied, the crew mistakenly assumed Phil would take Anne's former place of living. Anne had yet to find the emotional stability to pack, so at first when Phil moved all her belongings into the living room the other girls were unconcerned. The first indications of brewing trouble was when Phil began to replace the simple and sensible curtains with her own deep velvet ones. Stella innocently mentioned it would make far more sense to wait to put up curtains until the blue room was unoccupied, and in a tinkling laugh, Phil assured her she couldn't possibly move into Anne's old room; it was far too sacred, after all. Late one night, the three girls convened in the hallway in hushed anxious tones of what could be done, but concluded any confrontation must wait out of respect for Anne
"Plus," Phil said, peering over her wine glass at Anne, "I'm sure Gilbert will be delighted to look after you."
Anne colored. "I don't－but, I want you to come with us, Phil."
"As much as I adore you, Queen Anne, I just don't do frat parties, and after all this moving, I do need my Phil time." She sprawled her hand against the comforter's plush velvet. "I'm really feeling these red wine burgundy vibes, but unfortunately I'll have to abandon it all since it's so trendy now...Oh, and Anne, my dear, I'll be there at two in the morning for you."
Anne gave her a look. "I don't think that will be necessary."
Phil swirled her glass, amused. "I'll be there at two, and I'll drag you out of the den of inebriation if I have to."
"I don't want you to leave Redmond."
Gilbert and Anne were slumped woozily against the couch recovering from six Jell-O shots, two beers, followed by a rousing dance session to One Direction's, "Don't You Know You're Beautiful," which Anne was delightfully surprised to find Gilbert knew every word to in his half intoxicated state.
Anne flopped her hands dejectedly. "Well, it's not like I can do much about that."
"You've tried applying for scholarships for going through foster care, right?"
"I've been adopted too long for them to consider me."
Gilbert thought hard. "What if－have you tried－I mean, I know they give weird scholarships for..." He glanced at her uncomfortably. "Certain attributes."
Anne gave him a spiked look. "If you mean the scholarships for redheads, then I've already won it. The only useful thing red hair has ever done for me," she said bitterly.
They sat in dejected silence, absently watching the throbbing crowd pulsating to the music.
With a gasp, Gilbert sat straight up and declared, "I've got the best idea," promptly rose to a wobbly standing position, climbing on top of the couch, and cleared his throat to the crowd below.
"Gather 'round, gather 'round, ladies and gents, boys and girls, mates and misses, juniors and seniors, drunk and sober, Novia Scotians and those abroad," he said in a booming voice, arms outstretched to the jostling crowd that slowly stopped dancing and turned their wary eyes towards him until all was completely silent.
"Good evening fellow Reds. You've experienced the glorious revelries and superior trashy feeling of sacrificing your liver at frat parties, but have you ever done so knowing it's for the better cause of your fellow man, or in this case, woman? Yes, tonight you can give not only the curdled remains of shitty beer barf from the very depths of your bowels, but also a gift from the depths of your heart. Now, let me ask you, have you ever had the privilege of a P.E.I potato gracing your lips and thought, 'Good God, this is changing forever the way I think about vegetables?' Have you ever wondered how you could ever give back from being so exquisitely blessed? Yes? Well, let me point you no further to one of P.E.I's own, who has shared the same hallowed, red earth, a woman who has breathed the very same salty air of the Gulf of Saint Lawrence, the very face to express your tuberous gratitude in monetary form. I present, the one, the only, the Queen of Prince Edward Island Potatoes, ANNNNNNNE SHIRLEY!"
The amount of money that was shoved in Anne's way was either the testament of how beloved potatoes were to a good solid Canadian, how much alcohol flowed through the veins of Redmond's best and brightest, or Gilbert's ability to charm a crowd into just about anything. Or, perhaps all three. Either way, as Anne waved and smiled to the exuberantly cheering crowd, they shoved wads of cash into the empty chip bag Gilbert held out while bowing dramatically and expressing their deep gratitude to the 'Queen of Potatoes.' Ruby Gillis passionately embraced Anne with tears streaming down her face, and even Josie Pye gave five dollars while only partially sneering. Anne wasn't quite sure how to respond to a very plastered looking Craig the hockey player who demanded skeptically how they possibly tasted so good, which Anne helplessly summed up to the magic of the Island. He stumbled away looking mystified.
"All hail the Queen!" Gilbert shouted jubilantly, the crowd raising up sloshing red solo cups and cheering towards Anne.
"It's like they actually believe I personally grew the potatoes," Anne said helplessly to Gilbert as someone fastened a crown fashioned from the cardboard of a six pack. "I mean, I wasn't even born on P.E.I."
"Doesn't matter!" He responded cheerily, giving high fives to the generous donors, "I'm milking this for as long as possible!"
"Speech, speech, speech!" The crowd chanted, growing louder and louder. Anne shot a terrified look toward Gilbert, knowing full well her fine motor skills, and probably all skills, were far too inhibited at this point. Gilbert only smiled brilliantly and ordered the peasants to bring a podium for their Queen.
Anne reluctantly stepped onto an ice cooler and took a look out onto the crowd that was starting to look very blurry.
"Well, uh, I want to thank God, for you know...creating potatoes, especially on P.E.I, and－"
She was spared further embarrassment as Moody Spurgeon entered the room playing the fiddle, followed by Fred on the guitar, and Charlie Sloane who sputtered away at the harmonica, to the tune of a song that any Islander could sing in their sleep.
With a shout of exclamation, Gilbert grabbed Anne's hand and whipped her dangerously off the ice cooler into a dancing position.
"Grab a partner, everyone!" Gilbert shouted above her head, stepping in time to the music. "You're about to learn from us Islanders a real P.E.I. Ceilidh!"*
There was a great shuffle as everyone stumbled over each other's feet to find a body to dance with－girls with girls, guys with guys, pairs of twos, pairs of threes. Soon, all were laughing and clapping, trying their best to follow Anne and Gilbert who stomped their way around like professionals, catching onto the words the Islanders belted from their hearts:
Down in King's County, there's hard working folks,
Some work in the fields, some work on the boats
At the end of the week when we all draw our pay,
You'd think the Indy 500 was heading this way!
And the traffic's runnin' hard again
All the way to Cardigan
People runnin' up the hill
To get a case of beer
Gonna buy a quart of rum,
Gonna have a little fun,
Friday night in Cardigan
And everybody's here.**
One person bumped into another, causing them to trip over another's feet, and soon the whole room had collapsed to the floor in a heap of laughter, tangled limbs, and beer.
Gilbert untangled himself from Anne and heaved himself onto the floor next to her, back flat on the ground. If not for that she were laughing, eyes closed, with too much alcohol in her system, she would have noticed Gilbert press a lingering kiss to her forehead. Considering the circumstances, she did not.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty."
Anne awoke wincing to the light, groaned, and miserably buried her head back in Phil's velvet pillows.
"Drink this, deary. It'll make you feel better, I promise." Phil pushed a glass of water into Anne's hand, who was using the other to shield her eyes.
"This was a terrible idea," Anne groaned.
"I'm curious what exactly you remember," Phil said slowly.
Anne grunted miserably.
"As in, do you remember when I came to pick you up, and you were cuddled together with Gilbert out on the lawn?"
Anne snapped her hand from her face and nearly dropped her water.
"What?"
"So you don't remember being snuggled up to Gilbert's neck with his arms all around you? Outside? On the grass? In the middle of winter?"
Anne looked horrified.
"Reciting poetry, something about a being a steadfast bright star?"**
"I recite poetry even when I'm completely wasted," Anne said wistfully. "I think that's the most delightful discovery about me I've ever heard."
"-I don't know what kind of stars you were seeing either, since it was completely cloudy, but you were pointing them out and everything. Probably would of froze to death if not for me..."
*A Ceilidh (pronounced Kaylee) is a traditional Irish/Scottish gathering that consists of traditional folk music and dancing. These gatherings still occur regularly on P.E.I.
**Excerpt taken from "All The Way to Cardigan" by local P.E.I band, The Fiddler's Sons
**"Bright star, were I steadfast as thou art," by John Keats
A/N: Happy New Years, everyone! If you're reading this, I am delighted! Thanks for coming back after many months of no updates. Rest assured, more serious chapters on their way.
Just a reminder: Being drunk is not nearly as fun as it sounds here, so please be safe.