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Disclamer: Regretfully, I own nothing except Josie's cousin George and David Owen. Yes, I really exerted myself with the characterizations of those two ::laughs sarcastically:: Since L.M. Montgomery clearly won't sue me because she's no longer living, hopefully no one else will either, for I am making absolutely 0 (zero) $ off of this. And Shakespeare owns Hamlet. I don't know why I would want it, anyway. He can keep it.
Anne stepped into the carriage, David following close after her. She grabbed the reins and drove off, taking a right at the fork in the road towards White Sands instead of going straight to Avonlea. After their purchases, they had left Diana on the walk up to Fred's parents' house.
David looked at Anne, smiling amusedly. After catching him on the point of laughter several times, Anne finally turned to him and demanded, "What in heaven's name is so funny?"
David just shook his head. "Gilbert told me he was going to the dance with Josie. I thought that was odd, considering how he's always disliked her."
Anne said nothing, and stared straight ahead stonily.
He just laughed again, and said, "Anne, you are so jealous."
"Jealous, I'm not jealous!" Anne objected, taken aback. Then, seeing the annoying smile still lingering on his face, she backtracked and added, "Jealous of what?"
"Oh, don't feign innocence, Anne Shirley, you know what I'm referring to," David responded.
"I'm sure I don't," Anne returned irritatingly.
David rolled his eyes. "Fine, you want me to be frank, I'll be frank. You're not entirely pleased with the fact that Gilbert is going to the banquet with Josie. That, along with other underlying factors, is why you just picked a fight with him in the store."
"Well, he started it, not me," Anne shot back. "And I think you're mistaken, David Owen. I'm not jealous-not at all."
"I'm not!" she repeated, seeing him shake his headed, clearly unconvinced. "Really, I don't know what you're talking about."
"'The lady doth protest too much, methinks'" he quoted airily, shooting her a meaningful glance.
Anne gave an exasperated sigh. "Don't quote Shakespeare at me, David."
"Anne, for goodness sake, take your 'antic disposition' off. It's not helping."
"Oh, you're just on a roll now, aren't you," Anne said sarcastically. "You just waltz in here and observe me for half an hour, and you think you know exactly what I'm thinking. Well, you don't-you're wrong."
"Oh, but I'm not, I'm right. ''Tis true, 'tis pity, and pity 'tis, 'tis true.' Anne, what happened between you two? Did he propose?"
"Sophomore year," Anne replied resignedly. "And I refused."
David looked at her scrutinizingly. So Anne had turned Gilbert down and must now regret it. Well, he didn't see what the obstacle was. Gilbert Blythe had always been head-over-heels about her. As far as he could gather, they'd gotten into another fight, and as a result Gilbert had asked Josie to the banquet. But why Josie, when any other (less irritating) girl would have served just as well to provoke Anne's jealousy?
"At Queen's," David said abruptly, "Gilbert had this obsession about you."
Anne nearly dropped the reins. "What?"
"Yes. He made fun of you all the time to us. Then one day we found this old faded rose in a drawer in his dresser and teased him about it until he told us. Apparently it was a flower from some concert that you'd thrown and he'd picked up when you were 13. We gave him no end of it after that. He said it was because he hated you and it reminded him of his 'heated rivalry' with you, but we knew better."
He didn't add, because of confidence with his friend, of what Gilbert had said about Anne in their numerous letters in the few years after Queen's. But it was clear, to him at least, that Gilbert was still in love with her. Not only had he seen them bicker, but he'd felt the romantic tension and noticed how, for a split second, Gilbert had gazed longingly at Anne.
Anne still didn't say anything. That rose, hadn't-Anne grasped at the memory vaguely-hadn't Gilbert just mentioned that a couple days ago? Goodness, the way her feelings had gone up and down since then made it seem like a year.
"You know," David continued, "I'm not attending the banquet with anyone. I'd be honored if you'd come with me, Anne Shirley, though Gilbert is to me as 'Hyperion to a satyr.'"
Anne rolled her eyes and smiled at him. "Goodness, I thought you were going to say 'Get thee to a nunnery.' But certainly, I'll go with you, since you helped me pick out my dress and all."
"I just wanted you to hurry up," he said. "Here, this is where I'm boarding. Thanks for the lift. On Saturday the tables will have turned."
He hopped out of the carriage, and watching Anne drive away. She and Gilbert were both so stupid and stubborn. Well, he would have to see to that at the banquet. "'Oh cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it right,'" he muttered.
Author's Note: Yes, in case you were wondering, I recently read William Shakespeare's Hamlet. Well, I don't know if "read" is exactly the right word--had it rammed down my throat is more like it. We read it at home, cross-examined it in class, went over it like 50 times for a completely murderous test, and saw a performance at Stratford. But I digress.Speaking of digressions, see that little box down there? The one that this ^ arrow would be pointing to if it were upside down? ::laughs crazily at her laziness:: Well, please use it and write at least a brief review if you like (or hate) this story. Please.
Disclamer: Regretfully, I own nothing except Josie's cousin George and David Owen. Yes, I really exerted myself with the characterizations of those two ::laughs sarcastically:: Since L.M. Montgomery clearly won't sue me because she's no longer living, hopefully no one else will either, for I am making absolutely 0 (zero) $ off of this. And Shakespeare owns Hamlet. I don't know why I would want it, anyway. He can keep it.
Anne stepped into the carriage, David following close after her. She grabbed the reins and drove off, taking a right at the fork in the road towards White Sands instead of going straight to Avonlea. After their purchases, they had left Diana on the walk up to Fred's parents' house.
David looked at Anne, smiling amusedly. After catching him on the point of laughter several times, Anne finally turned to him and demanded, "What in heaven's name is so funny?"
David just shook his head. "Gilbert told me he was going to the dance with Josie. I thought that was odd, considering how he's always disliked her."
Anne said nothing, and stared straight ahead stonily.
He just laughed again, and said, "Anne, you are so jealous."
"Jealous, I'm not jealous!" Anne objected, taken aback. Then, seeing the annoying smile still lingering on his face, she backtracked and added, "Jealous of what?"
"Oh, don't feign innocence, Anne Shirley, you know what I'm referring to," David responded.
"I'm sure I don't," Anne returned irritatingly.
David rolled his eyes. "Fine, you want me to be frank, I'll be frank. You're not entirely pleased with the fact that Gilbert is going to the banquet with Josie. That, along with other underlying factors, is why you just picked a fight with him in the store."
"Well, he started it, not me," Anne shot back. "And I think you're mistaken, David Owen. I'm not jealous-not at all."
"I'm not!" she repeated, seeing him shake his headed, clearly unconvinced. "Really, I don't know what you're talking about."
"'The lady doth protest too much, methinks'" he quoted airily, shooting her a meaningful glance.
Anne gave an exasperated sigh. "Don't quote Shakespeare at me, David."
"Anne, for goodness sake, take your 'antic disposition' off. It's not helping."
"Oh, you're just on a roll now, aren't you," Anne said sarcastically. "You just waltz in here and observe me for half an hour, and you think you know exactly what I'm thinking. Well, you don't-you're wrong."
"Oh, but I'm not, I'm right. ''Tis true, 'tis pity, and pity 'tis, 'tis true.' Anne, what happened between you two? Did he propose?"
"Sophomore year," Anne replied resignedly. "And I refused."
David looked at her scrutinizingly. So Anne had turned Gilbert down and must now regret it. Well, he didn't see what the obstacle was. Gilbert Blythe had always been head-over-heels about her. As far as he could gather, they'd gotten into another fight, and as a result Gilbert had asked Josie to the banquet. But why Josie, when any other (less irritating) girl would have served just as well to provoke Anne's jealousy?
"At Queen's," David said abruptly, "Gilbert had this obsession about you."
Anne nearly dropped the reins. "What?"
"Yes. He made fun of you all the time to us. Then one day we found this old faded rose in a drawer in his dresser and teased him about it until he told us. Apparently it was a flower from some concert that you'd thrown and he'd picked up when you were 13. We gave him no end of it after that. He said it was because he hated you and it reminded him of his 'heated rivalry' with you, but we knew better."
He didn't add, because of confidence with his friend, of what Gilbert had said about Anne in their numerous letters in the few years after Queen's. But it was clear, to him at least, that Gilbert was still in love with her. Not only had he seen them bicker, but he'd felt the romantic tension and noticed how, for a split second, Gilbert had gazed longingly at Anne.
Anne still didn't say anything. That rose, hadn't-Anne grasped at the memory vaguely-hadn't Gilbert just mentioned that a couple days ago? Goodness, the way her feelings had gone up and down since then made it seem like a year.
"You know," David continued, "I'm not attending the banquet with anyone. I'd be honored if you'd come with me, Anne Shirley, though Gilbert is to me as 'Hyperion to a satyr.'"
Anne rolled her eyes and smiled at him. "Goodness, I thought you were going to say 'Get thee to a nunnery.' But certainly, I'll go with you, since you helped me pick out my dress and all."
"I just wanted you to hurry up," he said. "Here, this is where I'm boarding. Thanks for the lift. On Saturday the tables will have turned."
He hopped out of the carriage, and watching Anne drive away. She and Gilbert were both so stupid and stubborn. Well, he would have to see to that at the banquet. "'Oh cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it right,'" he muttered.
Author's Note: Yes, in case you were wondering, I recently read William Shakespeare's Hamlet. Well, I don't know if "read" is exactly the right word--had it rammed down my throat is more like it. We read it at home, cross-examined it in class, went over it like 50 times for a completely murderous test, and saw a performance at Stratford. But I digress.Speaking of digressions, see that little box down there? The one that this ^ arrow would be pointing to if it were upside down? ::laughs crazily at her laziness:: Well, please use it and write at least a brief review if you like (or hate) this story. Please.