Anne kept staring at her teacher long after the latter had finished her announcement, shocked, dumbfounded and in the general state of utter disbelief.

"You are paired with Gilbert Blythe."

Oh, why was she even surprised? Of course she was paired with him.

"And you talk of having bad luck," Anne murmured under her breath even though – or maybe, because – she well knew Diana could not hear her among the confusion that had suddenly arose in the room. She didn't bother to repeat her statement when the latter gave her a curious look or mumbled an absent-minded "Sorry?", instead waving her hand dismissively and just shaking her head. She really didn't feel like dwelling on the topic; especially seeing that Diana's mind was already set on the task at hand.

Anne couldn't help but think how fortunate it was that she happened to be sitting by the window for once. If she had not, she would have been expected to leave her place and join Gilbert by his desk, which obviously meant having to cross the whole room on yet another walk of shame. In her mind she might have known that she had no reason to be ashamed this time and that if some people had problems with her entirely accidental cooperation with said boy, it was their problems, not hers – but in her soul and heart she still felt the pang of anxiety at the thought that this accidental occurrence could still affect her relations with others.

She was too preoccupied with that problem to think of that it could affect her relationship with Gilbert himself, too.

What mattered now was that she had at least been spared the staring that would have undoubtedly been her share had she been forced to leave the reasonably safe haven of her seat. She didn't have to go anywhere. She would sit, and she would wait, gazing at the fields outside, humbly hoping that Ruby would not make too much fuss over the adverse events of today.

"Is this seat taken?"

Anne rolled her eyes but decided not to fight the smile that involuntarily appeared on her face.

"You know it's not," she answered with mock hostility, deciding not to look at the boy unless it was absolutely necessary. She heard him hum in amusement and rolled her eyes again, imagining the lopsided grin that certainly bloomed on his face. "And you better take it before I ask Miss Stacy to let me work alone."

Gilbert wisely refrained from a comment for the time being, focusing on placing his writing equipment on Diana's desk instead.

"I'm sorry you're stuck with me on this," he whispered when he was securely seated on the bench; Anne glanced at him, surprised with the genuine, almost apologetic tone of his voice. "For your sake. I can't say the same for myself."

"Why would you say that?" she asked, abashed.

"Well, your reaction wasn't exactly... enthusiastic," he explained patiently before letting out a small chuckle. "Your eyes grew so big, I thought you might get up and run away on the spot."

"That's not what – I didn't mean to – oh, stop it, Gil!" Anne stuttered in response, silently cursing her sudden inability to create a coherent sentence. She was confused enough as she was; Gilbert's idiotic grin was of no help to her. "Stop smiling at me like this! And stop mocking me. I was surprised, that's all – and you should know I don't run away just because I'm a little distressed. Not anymore, anyway."

"Yeah. Anyway."

Anne was saved from answering that vague, seemingly meaningless statement that for some reason had made her smile grow wide, when Miss Stacy tapped on her own desk. She fixed her gaze on her teacher at once, although she couldn't help but glance at Gilbert beforehand; his mouth was twitching into a soft smile again.

Somehow, it was nice to think there were memories only the two of them shared.

"Alright class, I want you to listen to me carefully," Miss Stacy proceeded. "I'm going to give you copies of Lord Tennyson's poem, one copy for a pair. You are to read it together, quietly, and then try to interpret it in the best way you can. The trick is however, you are not supposed to plan it."

"How can we write anything good if we can't think it over first?" came Josie Pye's indispensable remark.

Once again, Miss Stacy only smiled. "You are more than welcome to think it over, my dear. What I don't want you to do is to discuss it with your partner, for that would spoil the very sense of this exercise. Now, if you'd just let me finish, I think I could explain it to you quite clearly."

Josie fell silent. The rest of the class remained the same.

"To sum it up shortly," the teacher picked up after the pause. "Instead of discussing the plan of action, I want you to take action from the start. There is a piece of blank paper attached to each of the copies you'll get. Your task is to write down your thoughts by turns, sentence by sentence, all while trying to keep the final text consistent both by the means of structure and content. As I said, you may talk – but I highly advise you do not. Do you have any questions at this point?"

Murmurs echoed in the classroom. A hand was raised.

"Are we all going to read the same poem?" the perfectly practical Jane Andrews inquired.

"What will the poem be?" the hopelessly romantic Anne Shirley-Cuthbert breathed.

If by looking at Ruby Diana could have assumed that the former would fall of the bench, Gilbert had every right to believe the same scenario would come true for Anne.

Just mere minutes earlier she'd been as calm as a sphinx, determined to prove her friends that her assignment did anything but pleased her. Right now she was excited beyond belief, waiting for her teacher's answer as if she'd been awaiting a sentence on her life. Her eyes seemed even bigger now, shining with joy and hope, even though even she didn't quite knew what it was she was hoping for. She pursed her parted lips and swallowed nervously.

Gilbert let his smile widen at the sight.

"You will all read the same poem, yes," Miss Stacy confirmed simultaneously. "And it's the Song from the Marriage of Geraint."

"Idylls of the King." Anne muttered in excited whisper as she followed her teacher with her gaze. She took two of the sheets Miss Stacy gave them and passed the rest to the students sitting behind her. "Oh, Gilbert, isn't this thrilling?"

"I suppose it is for someone who cares for Lord Tennyson as much as you do," the boy answered with a grin. "I'm guessing you know this particular work as well?"

"Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel..." Anne nearly sang to him. She would have laughed too, had they not been sitting feet away from where Miss Stacy stood.

Gilbert shook his head. "Is there any poem you haven't learnt by heart yet?"

"Quite a few, actually. But I'm doing my best to reduce the number – and as you said, I care for Lord Tennyson a great deal indeed. I hadn't even heard of him before coming to Green Gables and reading him for school, but oh, it was worth to wait for poetry of this sort."

"I only hope I will manage to keep up with your enthusiasm for him during this exercise. Don't hate me for saying this, Anne, but Lord Tennyson is not a favourite poet of mine."

"Oh, well," Anne gasped, a little disappointed. "Well, I still trust you will work fairly on this, and as long as you do, I'm sure we'll be alright."

"Again, I'm sorry you have to work with me."

It was her turn to shake her head.

"I've never said I didn't want to work with you," she said. "I just wish we weren't paired."

"Why then?" Gilbert asked, surprised.

"Because I tend to care about what other people think of me too much."

Gilbert let the subject drop, deciding to focus his attention on the poem in front of him that he still needed to read. Despite her knowledge of it, Anne kept glancing over his shoulder, her gaze shifting between the sheet and his face as she tried to determine how far into the poem he was and completely oblivious to the distraction she thus caused. Luckily for them, the poem wasn't long and even with Anne leaning so closely Gilbert eventually managed to finish his reading.

"Alright, I'm ready," he announced with a barely audible sigh of relief. "I say – ladies first?"

The girl by his side nodded eagerly and began to work immediately. Contrary to their doubts and fear, the cooperation was going smoothly for them – just as it always is when two young clever minds set of towards a mutual goal, striving to achieve the best of results. They could not refrain from a little competition, excelling one another in spot-on remarks and ideas that were just a little too far-fetched, but at the same time bearing in minds the main aim of their task and trying to make the essay coherent.

By the end of the lesson the sheet seemed to be flying from one end of the desk to the other and before they knew it, they had come to their conclusion. Anne froze, surprised.

"Anne? You're alright?" she heard Gilbert ask as she stared at the paper, her hand and pen hovering above it.

"Is that it?" she whispered in lieu of an answer, her gaze not leaving the sheet for a moment. "Are we really done already?"

Her companion laughed shortly. "I think we almost are. But I can see you still have something to add, and since you were the one to write the first sentence of this masterpiece I believe it's only fair if I write the last one. We do that and we're done."

"Well, I suppose I need a moment to think it through," she responded a little sheepishly. "The last words of the text are always the ones that matter most, so I can't write some nonsense as I did before."

"I don't think you've written any nonsense so far, Anne."

"Even if I didn't, these last lines still ought to stand out somehow. Please, just give me a moment and I'll certainly manage to come up with something."

"I have no doubt that you will," Gilbert answered a little too dreamily for his own liking; he cracked a grin at her after. "Just please make sure you don't ponder for too long, I'd actually like to have supper tonight.

Anne huffed and fixed her gaze on their essay. Her mind was working rapidly, suggesting dozens of ideas, all of them suitable for the ending of the essay – and none that could possibly be squeezed into a single sentence. Her eyes flickered towards the text of the poem, too dear to her heart not to be read again. So she did, and she smiled, feeling the warmth and passion, and hope that seemed to radiate from the black verses of words.

"Smile and we smile, the lords of many lands;
Frown and we smile, the lords of our own hands..."

Yes, she was that. A mistress of her own fate, ready to curve her own future. And no one could take it away from her, not anymore, neither with words or deeds, because right now she felt strong enough to stand up for herself. She would not disregard Ruby's looks or feelings but she would not let the ungrounded sense of guilt dictate her life, either. She would not feel ashamed of what and who she was. And, most of all she would not -

"Hey, carrots."

All of her sudden confidence dissolved into thin air as soon as she heard Gilbert's words.

"What did you call me?" she asked, turning slowly towards him, her eyes wide with disbelief. The boy gave her an apologetic smile that suddenly felt so awfully fake, even though she couldn't quite point out the reason why.

All of her musing, each and every of her recent resolutions seemed to be crumbling down, spoilt so recklessly by his untimely comment. All at once she felt a sting go right into her vulnerable heart, bringing back the memories she'd been trying so hard to repress, unable to stop the merciless train of thoughts that ran through her mind against her will, against her doubts, against her better judgement.

"I'm sorry, Anne, but I called your name twice before and you didn't react. You know I meant no harm."

She knew she should not have felt offended by his words. She knew that for him it was just a mere joke, a way to catch her attention, just like it had been all those months ago. But at the same time, she could not ignore the memories the words brought to her and how much harm they truly did.

Carrots.

Red-head.

Witch.

And it hurt almost physically to think that he was the one person who didn't realise that.

In a second her focus was on their shared paper again, as she scribbled the first thing that came to her mind, only half caring whether it was good enough for Miss Stacy's standards. She didn't care about Gilbert's astonished glare, either, nor for the words that came from him after the first moment of stupor. And yet, he kept talking.

"For heaven's sake, Anne, what's wrong?" he asked, bewildered. She didn't grace him with a response. "You can't possibly be mad for that silly nickname, can you? You were miles away and I needed to bring you back before Miss Stacy would notice – I never would have done it otherwise. And you know I didn't mean to insult you. Please, just look at me and I promise I will never -"

"Miss Stacy, we're done!" was all Anne cared to say. She was standing now, turned towards the back of the room where their teacher was checking the progress made by her friends. "Should we leave it on your desk or -"

"Anne, what are you doing?" Gilbert hissed from his seat, completely taken aback by her actions. "We haven't finished, I still need to write my part!"

"Just lay it on your own desk and I will collect it. I'll be there in a minute, so you just wait, dear," Miss Stacy answered almost simultaneously.

Anne felt that just this once, she could not follow her beloved schoolmarm's request so easily.

"Oh, yes, but I was wondering..." she tried again, trying for all her might to keep her voice even and calm. "It has just occurred to me that I should be back at Green Gables as soon as I can today, and since you said this assignment is the last of our tasks for today I hoped I could go home at once – if only that's alright with you, of course."

"In such case, I don't see why you should not go," Miss Stacy admitted; she sounded a little reluctant but Anne could not bring herself to pay any mind to it right now. "Although I would like to discuss your working process with you as soon as I can – so please make sure to come to school a few minutes early on Monday, will you?"

"Of course."

"And I am going to give you some more reading for the weekend so it is up to you to learn what it is from your friends."

"I will."

"You may go, then" the teacher waved her hand and smiled before returning to the pair she'd been helping before.

Anne wasted no time and began to pack immediately.

"Anne, slow down a little," Gilbert pleaded once again. He tried to stop her by grabbing her hand but she yanked it away furiously. "I'm sorry, I had no idea it would annoy you so much."

"Annoy me?" she echoed flatly.

"I didn't want to distress you," Gilbert went on stubbornly. "And I really am sorry. Weren't you one to say that an apology can go a long way?"

"Only if you mean it," she retorted mercilessly and straightened up even more. "Now if you'd be so kind and let me through, I have more duties to attend to and I can't do it with you blocking my way out."

Gilbert did as he was told, not finding the strength to oppose her any longer. Anne stormed past him without a second thought and marched across the classroom, grabbing her hat and almost slamming the door behind her.

There were no broken slates, no shouts or outbursts.

No temper had been lost.

Only a miserable girl of fifteen, with a crack in her heart and tears in her eyes, that somehow stung more than ever before.