The next morning dawned on Anne, unwelcome and painful, like the cold realisation that the love of your life wasn't who you thought he was.

The return to school loomed, and Anne was dreading it. So much had happened... She'd kissed Gilbert in front of everyone, embarrassed Josie Pye, been the subject of a horrible rumour and been split up from Gilbert. By this time Anne was sure everyone in the school had heard the rumour, even her friends and Ms Stacy... Oh what would she think? It would be dreadful. Anne's only comfort was the knowledge that Diana knew and believed the truth.

The previous night had been mostly quiet, save Marilla gently questioning January, Kes and Peggy about their trip to Avonlea and their connection with Anne among other things. They didn't say much, leaving January to fabricate as much back story as she needed to placate Marilla. Like Peggy, Matthew had remained painfully silent. Shy as ever, he observed all yet said nothing. He didn't much trust strangers, but friends of Anne were different... Besides, with Anne home safe again, he didn't have much cause for concern.

Anne had felt uncomfortable tension still resting between herself and Marilla, despite their embrace upon her return and the inevitability of her separation from Gil, it still hurt to think that Marilla believed the rumours. Deep down Anne knew that Marilla did love her... Anne felt it in the small things, like how Marilla had sent Jerry after her and as she watched her like a hawk until she finished her soup, only relaxing once she knew she'd eaten a proper meal. It was maternal love, overly-strict sometimes but always with Anne's best interest at heart, however misguided it may be.

After dinner had finished, the Cuthbert's peculiar and somewhat bedraggled young guests bedded down in the spare rooms, which had previously held an infamous pair of very unsavoury lodgers. Anne had cast aside the dark memory as she helped her friends settle in. Anne remembered the words January had spoken gently to her before they both parted to their own rooms...

"I hope you know that whatever reason Gilbert said those things to you, none of it means you are any less of the girl he fell in love with. He said those things because of something -- something that's affected him, it's not you... It's not your fault. You can't take the blame for his change of heart."

Anne had felt weak all over again at the mere mention of him. The girl he had fallen in love with... The bitter truth had hit Anne that he'd really been in love at one point, only to fall suddenly and abruptly out of it with such revulsion and conviction. How could she not blame herself? One day they were fine, the next he told her he was ashamed to be with her, he never wanted to see her again. It made her feel sick, to think somebody so precious to her, somebody who's opinion meant so much to her was repulsed by even seeing her.

Of course it was her fault.

Anne hadn't slept well, she'd fallen in and out of uneasy dreams tormented by Gilbert's words, haunted by his hazel eyes and gentle hands. She couldn't even cry anymore, she was too exhausted to cry. Anne didn't want to get up, let alone face the rest of her day... She felt that awful ache in her heart and she knew it would never heal. Her heart was torn in half. She'd see him at school. That thought alone made her want to lock herself in her room and hide away forever.

In the end Marilla had to drag poor Anne from bed and make her dress and tie back her long tangled hair. Brisk and unrelenting as ever, the older woman forced her to eat some toast at least, despite Anne's best attempts at excuses. The truth was Anne felt sick at the thought of eating, at the thought of everything.

The Wolfsden gang decided to look for a place to stay for a while and headed for a hostel Marilla told them was fairly near. Marilla invited them back for dinner and to stay again that night, which they graciously accepted if they had still not found lodgings.

A small blessing came in the woods as Anne saw Diana waiting among the trees for her, dappled in sun slithering down through the canopy of silver birch trees. They stood like shining centurions, willing to accompany the two girls on their journey to the hell-gates of school. Diana looked bright in blue, with a yellow ribbon gleaming in her inky-black hair. She half-smiled at Anne, who could not bring herself to attempt any words in exchange. Anne couldn't explain the pain she felt and Diana understood that. Di threw her arm around Anne's neck and they set off wordlessly to face the grim day ahead.

...

Gilbert was highly tempted to bunk off school, to avoid the inevitable sight of her in class.

Days which are sure to be unbearable are so often glorious with sunshine lighting everything with a cheerful fade. The birds singing outside his window seemed to mock Gilbert's heartache as he lay in bed, drained of energy. It was Bash who forced him to get up, swinging open his door and greeting him with a slightly-burnt breakfast.

"I'm heading out to pick up tools, and I need clothes mending so I'ma find somebody in town. I'll be out all day."

Gilbert didn't answer.

"Get up, Blythe. You can't mope around here till I get back, you best get out and learn somethin'."

Gilbert merely groaned and buried his face in his pillow, ignoring the desperate sound of hunger in his stomach. He hadn't eaten yesterday and he felt ill because of it. Insomnia had beaten him the previous night. Anne's unexpected visit had riddled what little dreams he'd had. He'd tossed and turned all night but tears evaded him, dry sobbing until his sides hurt. He felt rough, sleep-deprived and broken.

"You know, I went to see your Miss last night, but she was out. Did she come here?" Bash asked gently, knowing what lay on Gilbert's mind.

Gilbert's heart twinged painfully. He didn't answer. His throat was too hoarse, among other reasons. How wretchedly fragile hearts are with their breaking.

"What did she say?" Bash prompted. Gilbert's silence was enough confirmation of her visit, but still he persisted.

"Well?

Gilbert?"

"I'll get up and go to school if it means you stop badgering me." Gilbert snapped, sitting up and pushing his long dark locks out of his face.

Sebastian noticed how pale he looked. "You didn't sleep? You look awful, boy."

"Gee, thanks." Gilbert replied sarcastically and took the plate of food.

The thought of food was enough to make him hurl but he knew he needed to eat or he'd feel even worse. He managed some toast before abandoning the idea of breakfast all together. Turning his attention to dressing, Gilbert found a shirt beneath the pile of discarded paper and books on the floor and some trousers thrown on the end of his bed. He needed to tidy his room but it was his last priority at that time.

"I know some days you don't want to face. I been there, we all have. But things are rarely as bad as they promise to be." Bash said gently.

Gilbert didn't bother replying. He couldn't believe Bash, not then. Not when his whole world was gone by his doing. Things were just as bad. They were worse in fact.

"I best be going." Bash sighed. Leaving the room he glanced back and pointed a warning finger, "Don't go back to bed or so help me I'll throw you down them stairs myself."

"What would I do without you, eh?" Gilbert rolled his eyes.

"You'd fester, that's what." Bash teased, and disappeared before Gilbert could lob a shoe at him.

...

The school was bustling with pupils as usual.

Anne and Diana slipped into the cloakroom among the last few students to arrive. Whilst hanging their hats and shawls on their hooks the two girls saw the other pupils throw Anne dirty looks. The pupils said nothing until they left the cloakroom and sat down which was when the whispers began. Heads turned to watch as Anne and Diana walked along the aisle to their seats, erupting a strong current of whispers and sniggers as they progressed to the front. Ruby Gillis blushed bright red at the sight of Anne and Jane Andrews and Tilly Boulter dropped their gazes, none of them knowing what to say. Josie Pye contrastingly looked practically jovial, but it was the boys reactions which turned Anne's stomach...

"Well if it isn't Little Miss Harlot herself." Said Liam Dansen, a buddy of Billie Andrews.

"Here comes the hussey." Said another boy, named Harrison Jones.

They were looking at Anne with a dark glint in their eyes, a mixture of disgust and intrigue... It made Anne feel like an ant trapped beneath a glass, with nowhere to go whilst she burnt up in the gaze of the hot sun. Billie Andrews was scowling at her in disapproval but he surprisingly said nothing.

Anne turned her gaze to the front and held her head high, her cheeks flaming as red as her hair. She sat, her legs shaking and Diana joined her, glowering at the rude boys with all her might. Her dark eyes pierced them like knives.

"You should be ashamed of yourselves." Diana hissed.

"We're not the ones who should be ashamed. She's the dirty sinner." Liam Dansen snarled.

"Horrid little witch." Harrison Jones said cruelly.

"Good morning, class." Ms Stacy entered the room from her office, having missed the entire conversation. "Settle down now. I know we are still waiting on a pupil but we will start."

Anne glanced back at the empty bench spot beside Charlie Sloane. Where was he? Gilbert was rarely late. It's because of you. He doesn't want to see you. Anne's thoughts tortured her as she gazed at his empty spot. Suddenly a balled-up scrap of paper landed on her desk, breaking her from her daze. With trembling fingers, Anne opened it.

'Looking for your partner in crime?'

Anne looked up, flushing again to see Josie Pye smirking at her.

Anne turned to the front and screwed up the paper, discarding it on the floor. Maybe he wouldn't show up today... Maybe she'd have a whole day without facing him. What was worse? Seeing him knowing he didn't want to see her or him not coming to school because he wanted to avoid her so badly? Luckily, Ms Stacy seemed to be unaware of the rumours, or if she was aware she thankfully neglected to address it. The class began with recitations. They were studying Charles Dickens at the time, and Anne was looking forward to burying herself in schoolwork. The students took it in turns to read a passage from Charles Dickens' Great Expectations, a usual favourite of Anne's. It provided a good distraction to hear such beloved literature be read allowed until it came the time for her own reading.

"Well done, Moody. Your diction has improved greatly, you should be proud. Anne, do continue if you please." Ms Stacy said kindly, her sparkling eyes turning to the hunched girl in the front of class.

"Oh, uh..." Anne stammered, nerves clouding up in her chest as her heart beat faster. To recite in front of the whole class was usually a delight but upon this day it was a severe trial. "Of course." Anne stood on trembling legs, picking up her book and fumbling to find a page. More sniggers sounded from the boys.

"Silence, please." Ms Stacy commanded, causing their teasing to end. Unfortunately she had no power over their heavy, judgmental gaze.

Anne finally found a passage and began, her voice wavering and quieter than usual. Her normal spirit and enthusiasm was gone.

"Pip, dear old chap, life is made of ever so many partings welded together, as I may say, one's a blacksmith, and one's a whitesmith, and one's a goldsmith, and one's a coppersmith." Anne swallowed, taking a deep breath before continuing.

It was then that Gilbert arrived, steeling himself to see her. He slipped into the cloakroom silently and hung up his jacket and hat. As he peered into the classroom he heard somebody reading allowed. It was a familiar voice. As quietly as he could Gilbert joined Charlie Sloane on the bench, who smiled at him. Finally, Gilbert looked up. Upon seeing Anne standing there, with her beautiful red hair trailing down her back, her pale, freckled skin standing out against her light-green dress it was like his heart had dropped from his chest.

It hurt to listen to his favourite voice recite without any of her usual investment or passion.

"Divisions amongst such must come and must be met as they come..." Anne spoke.

Anne hadn't seen him yet but everyone else had. Gilbert noticed the rest of the class stealing looks at him, nearly all of them brimming with disdain. What was that for? He thought.

Gilbert turned his attention back to Anne. She stood there in front of the whole class, disheartened and seemed to him as fragile as Autumn leaves, shuddering in fear of being blown away by a fierce, cold wind. With a bristle of anger, Gilbert noticed the sniggers and cruel whispers of two boys at the front. Liam and Harrison, he believed were their names. They were watching Anne like wolves watch their prey, waiting to tear them apart.

Their sniggers and whispers hurt her less than your own words last night, you hypocrite, Gilbert reminded himself.

"If there's been any fault at all," Anne finished softly. "It's mine..."

With that she fell silent and sat, her head bowed as tendrils of curling hair fell into her face like a curtain. Her shaking fingers curled around the bench seat, clenching until her knuckles went snow-white. Her shoulders rose and fell as she breathed unevenly. Anyone who knew her well could see she was a mess. You did this to her. Gilbert couldn't tear his gaze from her no matter how hard he tried. Oh how it hurt, like a burning hole in his chest full of nothing but memories and broken dreams.

Her last words hung in the air, ringing familiar to his ears. If there's any fault at all, it's mine. Gilbert felt that it should be him speaking those words, Lord knows he had thought it enough since their parting.

"Thank you Anne, that was very eloquently read." Ms Stacy smiled. "Gilbert, nice of you to join us."

Anne froze, shocked that he'd arrived without her noticing. Before she could stop herself she turned and saw him sitting there, his long wavy hair disheveled around his hollow-eyed face. He hadn't slept, she could tell. She noticed it instantly. Anne recognised the deprivation shadowing beneath his eyes and paling his lips. Seeing him was like a rush of ice biting at her skin, crawling in her veins, cold and agonising.

Excitement lit in her broken heart for a second by instinct before her brain caught up.

He doesn't want to see you.

"We are reciting lines from Great Expectation," Ms Stacy explained. "Now I don't expect a great deal from you but I do expect participation at least... Could you pick up from the first page you find, please and read a line or two."

Gilbert was unprepared for a call out, and he suddenly realised he'd forgotten his copy of Great Expectations. Cursing internally, he gratefully borrowed Charlie's and stood. The gaze of the class swung to him, an unforgiving wave crashing against rocks. Gilbert's eyes flickered across the students, staggered by the disapproval in their gaze. Were they staring because he looked so brutally tired? Or could they tell he'd been crying the previous night? Their skeptical gaze was difficult to bear.

Although he felt them clinging to him, Gilbert couldn't meet Anne's eyes, he couldn't bring himself to.

Gilbert opened the book on a random page, cleared his throat and began slowly.

"Once for all I knew to my sorrow, often and often, if not always, that I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness..." Gilbert's voice sounded slightly hoarse, torn from sobbing all night.

The rowdy class was silent finally... There was a level of emotion laced into his words that everybody could pick up on, and it held them captive, spellbound. It was with each word he spoke he span a web, which eventually lay over the entire hall, silencing and entrapping everybody.

"Against all discouragement that could be."

It was only until Gilbert looked up and finally met Anne's gaze with that magnetic stare which had remained with her since the day they'd met that she finally realised he was just as heartbroken as she was.

Why, she did not know.

"Once for all I loved her none the less because I knew it had no more influence restraining me than if I had devoutly believed her to be human perfection."

Gilbert completed the passage, closed the book and sat. The spell eventually broke and everyone else turned to the front and the recitations moved on but for Anne and Gilbert there was no relief of the spell, in fact it was a curse that tethered their gaze together with an unbreakable force. All of the feelings which had flooded through them both for the past twenty-four hours, which had drowned them throughout their intolerably lonely and sleepless night, all of the feelings which had been bottled rose up in their chests, through every inch of their bodies until they both wanted to scream. Anne felt the lump in her throat, tears stinging her eyes.

It was impossible to let it go, to move on when it felt like this.

...

As soon as lunchtime came, Anne was first out, fleeing the classroom, barely holding it together at the seams.

The sun chased her into the sloping woods as she ducked between the trees until finding a shadowed tree-stump. There in the forest she let it out, all the tears that had resisted her before. The woods were silent and peaceful, contrasting the storm in her heart and mind.

The peace didn't last though. The crunch of heavy footfalls snapped Anne from her daze. Looking up she saw them, the two boys who had insulted her in class. Of course it would be them... As if she didn't have enough to deal with. Liam and Harrison. Wiping away her tears and gathering her breath, Anne mustered her last shreds of strength for a fight.

"Well, well, well... we wondered where you'd crawled off to." Harrison sneered gleefully upon seeing her.

"Were you crying?" Liam laughed as they approached. "What does a whore have to cry about?"

"She's crying because she's going to hell." Harrison spat, eyes glinting.

Anne looked up at the sky, cornflower blue as each Summer sky ahead was sure to be... The Summer she'd lost. Jerry's encouraging words echoed in her mind. Handle it and come out the other side braver than before. Anne reminded herself that she'd faced worse bullies, worse enemies. She could face these two ignorant, hateful boys. Yet her patience was thread-bare, her temper running loose. After all she'd dealt with today this was the final straw.

Anne stood suddenly, head held high.

"You know nothing about me." Anne spoke low, dangerous as a reckless rage overcame her. "You've never concerned yourself about my life, my choices, my possible destination after death. Why do you care now all of a sudden?"

"Because I don't want to live in a town with a hussey." Harrison shot back, stepping closer.

"Well, congratulations on accomplishing your dream because you live in Avonlea and I'm certainly not a hussey." Anne hissed venomously, tired of taking judgement from naive people day in day out.

The boys laughed. They actually laughed. Hollow and mocking, their laughter echoed ominously in the creaking trees surrounding them. Like fuel to the fire of Anne's temper it infuriated her tenfold.

"Maybe you haven't heard? Your secret is out, Princess." Liam snarled. "Everyone knows what you did with that boy."

Bringing up Gilbert was a sore point. It was like a scolding burn out of nowhere, setting her on edge and stoking up her anger even more.

"He's a filthy sinner too." Harrison said.

"Then why don't you go pick a fight with him then?" Anne yelled. "Shall I tell you where you can find him? Or I'm sure you're both already familiar with the Club Headquarters for liars and scuts!"

Neither had expected this outburst. Anne advanced, putting them off further.

"What's the matter? Too scared to fight him? You're both cowards. Two against one? Even in a fair fight you couldn't fight me."

The boys seemed to swell, getting angrier from her insults. They appeared intimidatingly larger the closer they got, taller and broader than before. Anne didn't care. Any anxiety she might have felt for conflict was buried in blind rage. All concern for her own safety was gone with the wind. She didn't care what they did anymore. Part of her actually hoped that they'd continue the fight, the anger blazing in her veins providing a distraction from her heartbreak, a way to feel in control.

"Don't you dare call me coward." Harrison cried, gesturing with his finger.

"Oh, but you don't mind being called liar or scut?" Anne mocked.

"You dirty witch." Liam practically bared his teeth.

"Here's my real secret --" Anne cried at the top of her lungs, eyes wild. "I am a witch and I swear I'll curse you both if you don't leave me the hell alone!"

The boys staggered back, losing their confidence completely.

"Freak." Liam spat.

"Get away from us, you devil-worshipper." Harrison warned.

They scrambled back up the slope, jostling each other to be ahead as they retreated, dashing between the trees. Stumbling and muttering to each other, they disappeared up the hill towards the school.

"Cowards." Anne shook her head.

She was still trembling with anger and now the bullies were gone it fizzled continuously, turning inwards. Her encounter with Gilbert swung back into her mind, fresh as the moment it happened. I loved her against all discouragement that could be... That's what he'd said, looking at her with the same dewy, love-sick expression he'd held for her before, back when she took it for granted and didn't realise how precious it was. How could he look at her like that? How could he say those words? I loved her beyond reason... Liar, thought Anne bitterly.

 As if on queue, there he was... Walking down through the trees, looking either way, presumably searching for somebody. Seeing him there, with nobody between them to stop the inevitable interaction was frightening for Anne. Could she handle it if he spoke to her? Or would it break her heart all over again? What would he say if he did? Something terrible like before?

Suddenly he turned around the path of trees, looked up and saw her just yards away.

"Anne." He blurted, before he could stop himself. "Did they hurt you? Those boys, I saw them coming after you--"

"Hurt me?" Anne repeated slowly, as if the words were being uttered by somebody else, somebody braver. Somebody who wasn't afraid to talk for fear of being shot down. "Are you going to pretend like you care about that?"

Gilbert gathered himself. She's not yours to protect. It's not your job anymore. She's better off without you, remember?

"Well what did they want?" Gilbert asked, assuming a nonchalant approach.

"They wanted to insult me... Along with everyone else in this town." Anne snapped.

"Insult you?"

"The usual - hussey, harlot, witch. But don't feel left out, they think you're a dirty sinner too." Anne said sardonically.

Gilbert was beyond confused at this point. "I don't follow."

All of a sudden it became clear to Anne that Gilbert didn't know anything about the rumours. Nobody had told him and somehow he'd managed to evade them and he was clueless as to why anyone was judging them... He hadn't left town because of her and the stories. Anne didn't know if it was better or worse that their break up had nothing to do with the damning stories... Worse she felt. It wasn't based on cruel lies it was based on faults of her own.

She had to tell him.

"Somebody has made up a story, about us." Anne hesitated. "Saying that-- saying that we--"

Anne couldn't go on. But she didn't have to. The red tinge in her cheeks said it all. Her heart beat faster as his heavy gaze weighed on her. Going over it, something so intimate and personal with someone who had made it very clear they did not want any intimacy with her was very hard for her.

"They think we--"

Gilbert felt winded as he abruptly understood. "They-- think that?" His voice was breathy, his cheeks tinging pink as a million shameful thoughts flooded his brain. For a moment he said nothing, his mind reeling. Then, scratching the back of his neck, "Who believes it?"

"Everyone. Even Marilla." Anne's voice broke as tears filled her eyes and the lump returned to her throat.

They both fell into silence. Gilbert was beyond shocked by this reveal, although it made sense now why everyone had been so reproachful to him that morning and why Anne had waited out for him on the main road, likely thinking he'd fled town to escape the gossip. They looked at each other, the only person who'd possibly understand the levels of pain the other was feeling and the only person they couldn't possibly share it with.

Anne gazed at the boy she'd loved so deeply for so long, and everything built up until she couldn't contain it.

"How could you?" Anne choked out. She'd thought she'd be able to hold it in but she couldn't.

Please don't. Gilbert thought. I can't handle seeing your pain all over again.

"How dare you say those things in school... Look at me like that... After what you did." Her words trembled on the cusp of tears.

Anne's stormy eyes swam as grey and gleaming as the pale trees around them. Gilbert was at sea, drowning in them.

"It was just a recitation." Gilbert muttered.

"It wasn't."

Anne was shaking, her hair a wild flame scorching Gilbert's eyes like he was staring into the sun. They stood in the wind-rustled forest barely yards apart, sunshine and Spring dazzling in beams all around them. The world was alive and joyful yet they were both full of darkness and regret.

"You are cruel for saying it -- for everything you've done." Anne whispered angrily. "You are a liar."

"I'm not a liar." Gilbert said, bristling as she stepped too close to the truth. It hurt him to go over this. "I meant what I said last night."

Anne had tried to disguise her sadness with anger, as a defence mechanism. But being so close to him so soon after, it was too much. Her fury gave way to weakness, as it always did confronted with somebody she loved so much.

"You did lie... You told me you loved me. What did I do? What was so bad that you'd be so ashamed of me?" Anne bit her lip anxiously. "That you'd hate me?"

Gilbert's chest constricted, like a fist was squeezing it until he couldn't breathe. He wanted it to be over.

"Don't make me go over this again, Anne."

Her name in his mouth, in his voice was like a personal poison arrow curated to inflict the utmost pain in her. She missed when he'd say it with warmth, fondness, love. All of it she'd taken for granted.

"Oh, is that difficult for you?" Anne almost laughed. "What is difficult is learning that everything I believed was a lie, that the person I trusted most in the world is a liar."

"I didn't lie." Gilbert repeated, tightening his fingers into a fist to hide the tremble as he fought the pain rushing inside him like an frozen river, shards of guilt biting at his veins like ice.

"Then why did you tell me you loved me?" Anne cried. "Was it always a lie? Or did I do something to push you to this? Is it my fault? What did I do that was so bad? Tell me!"

Anne's words, her wide, fearful eyes, all of it was a reminder of her desperate need for validation. Gilbert knew her better than most, knew what she'd been through, knew how much it meant to her to be accepted and loved unconditionally... Of course she felt she was to blame. Oh, how it hurt to be the cause of this.

"Can't you just let it go?" Gilbert's voice cracked. He wished she knew he was hurting too. She was his home too. Now he was drifting alone and homeless and he knew how she felt. She was reopening the wound he was trying to suppress.

"Let it go? When it feels like this?" Anne said.

A tear left Anne's eye and rolled down her cheek. Her voice shook as she spoke slowly, as though every word she spoke was a further step towards breaking.

"Like -- my whole world is crashing down around me... Like nothing matters anymore. Like I'm all alone again." A broken sob came then and she sounded fragile. "I can't, you don't understand. I've never known anything like this before... I didn't even believe anyone could feel like this, not in real life. I just wish you would tell me -- I don't understand what I've done--"

"It wasn't you, okay?!" Gilbert suddenly shouted, unable to bare her hurting any longer. "You didn't push me to this, it wasn't anything you did, it's not your fault. Don't say that. Don't say that, Anne. Don't even think that."

Anne fell silent.

"It was me." Gilbert said softly. "It was all my fault, Anne."