Anne and Gilbert wrote many letters those first few weeks back on campus. Their highly charged holiday together had made their desire for one another even more insatiable, and it was with pen and paper that they expressed their excitement and longing. That month, they wrote and wrote and wrote. Both were gifted essayists and their letters back and forth were touching and funny and honest and all things perfect. However, as January rolled on, the pressures of school quickly stole focus and their letter writing returned to a manageable pace.
Having dominated the first semester, Gilbert expected to master the second in a similar style. Unfortunately, his courses that winter were particularly difficult and after only two weeks of classes it was clear to Gilbert that he had no choice but to surrender some of his recreational pastimes just to keep up with the seminars and labs.
"Trivia night won't be the same without you," said Christine when Gilbert told their group of friends he'd be stepping down from the team in the corridor or Massey Hall one morning.
"Don't sound so smug, Christine," said John. "Even without our star player the Trolley Dodgers are a force to be reckoned with!"
"Sure they are," chuckled Christine. "But, Gilbert, in all seriousness, don't walk away from the only bit of fun of we've got around here. Without some form of diversion, why, you'll work yourself to death."
"Now wait a minute there, Christine," puzzled John, "with Gilbert six feet under the rest of us might actually have a chance at winning the Gold Medal so I'm definitely starting to see the silver lining in all of this."
"Oh poppycock, Johnny boy! You'd have to bury two thirds of your class to be in running for the University's highest honour and even then it'd be a long shot!" quipped Christine. They all laughed.
Lewis chimed in, trying to rescue his friends from Christine's quick wit : "Gilbert, you haven't told us a thing about your holiday. How's Anne?"
For the first time in his life, Gilbert blushed. He couldn't help it. His cheeks went red and hot and there was nothing he could do to stop them. The mere mention of her name aloud brought back the softness of her hair and the feeling of her breath on his neck. He was caught unprepared and utterly speechless.
"That bad?" joked Lewis. All the boys laughed; Chrsinte busied herself with some papers in her briefcase.
"Well", she said matter-of-factly after a moment, "I can't say I won't enjoy wiping the floor with this lot on Sunday nights, but you will be missed Gil. Come along, John, or we'll be late for Biology 127." And with that, she was off. John grabbed his bag and with a wink he was off as well.
"Gilbert, it seems to me that you've returned from Avonlea having … lived … a little and I must say it's about time. Anne is a fine girl; I hope we'll see her again soon. Alright, I'm off too. See you later, lad," said Lewis.
Gilbert, still unable to focus enough to speak, raised his hand to his neck and smiled from cheek to cheek - dimples blaring! He pulled a paper out of his bag and opened his fountain pen.
"Dear Anne ..."
Anne returned to Charlottetown hoping that things would have settled down with her Avonlea chums. She was wrong. The freeze was colder than ever. Her 17-year-old "girlfriends," deciding to act their age in every respect, shut Anne out entirely and tried to influence others to do the same. Diana was immune of course, and she always had Cole and Miss Barry for company, but it was a bit much nevertheless.
Rehearsals for "Hamlet" started in the second week of term and the timing couldn't have been better. Within days, Anne and her cast mates were inseparable. They ate together and studied together and socialized together. They called themselves the Hammies and their motto was "More Than Kin!" They adored one another, bonded for life through the director's vision, the playwright's words, and courage and vulnerability it took for them as actors to get up in front of an audience and truly show themselves. It's quite possible that the rest of the college found them insufferable, but they didn't care. The Hammies had found one another and nothing could stop them!
"Anne, the Strawberry Social's this Sunday. You're coming right?" said Diana one evening as the two were readying themselves for bed.
"This Sunday? I'm terribly sorry Diana but I have rehearsals."
"On a Sunday?"
"Well, it's not a scheduled rehearsal, but Christopher and I decided to get together and run lines and analyse the text a little."
"I feel like I barely see you anymore, Anne. You're always with the Hammies these days. What's so special about them? I mean, it's just a play!"
Anne smiled. "I miss you too, Diana. First things first, it's not just a play; it's one of the greatest plays ever written. Secondly, it's different with my drama friends; it's hard to explain. Do you remember when you and I first met and we knew, just knew, that we would be bosom friends forever?"
"Yes."
"Right from the beginning I was wholly and completely accepted by you, Diana, and vice versa. In time, I was fortunate to befriend the others but in every instance it took work and time and struggle. I had to prove myself to them. I had to demonstrate my worthiness. But with the drama gang, they just understand me.. They have my back. It's like, if one of us rises, we all rise. If one of us falls, we all fall. It's … the magic of live theater I guess. It never felt like that with the old Avonlea gang. Not ever. My hometown friends, present company excluded of course, were acquaintances by circumstance. But me and the Hammies chose one another, or I suppose we were chosen by Mr. Harrison the director. Or maybe it was fate that grabbed our hands and drew us together in this moment? Regardless, I feel like I belong. Does that make sense?"
Diana chose her words carefully. "I am so glad that you've found people who you connect with, Anne. Really, I am. I know things are rough with the Avonlea girls right now, but I think there's more to those relationships than you think."
"Maybe."
"Will you think about it?
"I will."
"And will you come to the Strawberry Social with me pleeeeeeease?"
"Can I bring Christoper and the others?"
"Of course. The more the merrier!"
After classes the next day, the Hammies were scheduled to rehearse Act 3, Scene 1. In the roles of Gertrude and Claudius were upper years Esther Farmer and Timothy Douglas respectively. They managed the first part of the scene masterfully, leaving Anne and Christopher Goodman (second year) a little intimidated and overwhelmed. The second half of the scene was a doozy and their character featured heavily.
"Truthfully, Anne, I was hoping we wouldn't get this far until after you and I had a chance to talk through the speech just the two of us. I feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders when I even think of tackling "To be or not to be ..."
"Use that! If ever there was a character weighed down by life's demands and expectations, it's the Prince of Denmark after all."
"Thanks Anne," he said smiling. "I'm going to need more of that inspiration on Sunday when we really sink our teeth in."
"About that, I'm sorry Christoper but I've promised my dear friend Diana that I'd attend the Strawberry Social with her on Sunday."
"At the church?"
"Um hum"
"Oh."
"Would you like to come? I know Diana would love to meet you."
Christoper smiled. "I've love to. My, you are a modern woman, Anne."
Not entirely comprehending his meaning, Anne smiled and proceeded to extend the invitation to Esther, Timothy, and a few of the others on the next break. Only an onlooker with razor sharp attention would have caught a momentary flash of disappointment on Christopher's face. A larger than life personality with all the charisma and gravitas of Sir Henry Irving, Christopher brazenly overcompensated by extending the invitation to the entire cast and crew much to Anne's surprise. While not exactly what she was planning, she could see how a mass introduction of worlds might work ... and then again it might not.
She made her way back to her room at the boarding house later that evening exhausted and ready to collapse into bed. She was just about to lay her head down when she noticed an unopened letter on her vanity. She crept over, not wanting to wake Diana, and reached for the envelope. Her delight at receiving yet another correspondence from Gilbert was matched only by her guilt at not having had a chance to write him back since early the previous week. She was so busy trying to keep up her grades and tackle the role of Ophelia that she didn't have as much time to write as she had had during the first semester. She ran her fingers along the envelope's flap, quietly tearing it open:
"Dear Anne …"
It's a strange feeling to have one's heart soar and sink at the same time.