Epiphany - Taylor Swift

«Just one single glimpse of relief»

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[DON'T PLAY THE SONG YET!]

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Untold story

Published by: Wisteria

October 6th, 2020

NYU Student's Paper

It seems convenient to me to post this article in a student's paper. After all, what I am going to be discussing today is a matter of education. However, before I dive into the important topics here, I'd like to ask the readers to do something for me. Think about it as some sort of little experiment or as a warm-up.

Imagine for a moment that you have to wake up every single morning and put on a costume. That's it! Add that to your morning routine. Wake up, wear your costume before you even leave your room (because you could never leave without wearing it), have breakfast, brush your teeth, grab your lunch...

Let me add a tiny detail: it's a costume of someone that you're not.

It's a feeling similar of being like an alien, like a complete stranger wandering back and forth in a town where nobody knows you and where you can't even introduce yourself to people because of a terrifying voice in the back of your head whispering "what would they say if they found out who you truly are?"

Now imagine doing that every day. Every single day. Not only that, but also imagine people calling you by a name that's not yours. Surely, that's the name you were given at birth, the same name that probably appears on your driving license. But deep inside you know you're way more than that; you're way more than those splattered letters that appear displayed on some plastic ID and you're way more than that costume you have to wear every day. You don't identify with any of that.

Sucks, right? Well, that's the reality for transgender or transexual people. From the day we are born, we are strictly assigned a gender determined by social parameters and constructs. Traditionally, this gender correlates to the sex you are born. If you're feeling confused right now, which is perfectly normal, let me explain it briefly for you. Yes, there is a huge difference between the concepts of sex and gender. Sex is just the biological traits society associates with male or female. Gender is a social construct. It's what culturally or socially is understood as male or female. However there are more than two genders, which breaks the traditional idea of gender binarity. If this simply explanation, however important, is too poor to satisfy your curiosity, I invite you to read into it and educate yourself as soon as possible. I have included some sources at the bottom of this article that you, my dear reader, might find useful. It might not concern you, directly, but it could concern someone around you who could use your help, or, at least, your support and understanding.

Understanding basic concepts as the two listed above is just a matter of education. We need to reinforce our educational system. We need to build up a system that is a safe environment for everyone. We need DIVERSITY, INCLUSION and PROTECTION. We need to deconstruct this heteronormative, white, patriarchal society and turn it into a wide sphere of diversity where every single individual feels represented. We need to teach our children as parents, teachers or mentors. In the end, they are our future generation. We need to teach them into tolerance and acceptance.

There is a reason why this article has been written and there is a reason why you're reading it at this precise moment. The fact that our society is built on inequality is nothing new. However, there was something that triggered the purpose of writing what you're reading right now. It happened no more than three days ago.

What happened that October night, I will never forget it. My name, I will not reveal. I will give you, however, my initials. My name is C.M. I'm a boy. I'm a boy. I'm a BOY, and I will repeat, I will shout it until it becomes clear to everyone. I want to be heard.

My name is C.M. and one of my favorite things to do in New York is walk around. I usually avoid taxis when the walk is less than 45 minutes away from home. Especially at night. There's just something about the city that never sleeps. Maybe it's the lights. They inspire me. I like to paint. I would very much like to be a professional artist in a near future.

[TW: brief description of violence, homophobia and transphobia— it's not very detailed but I guess I should add a trigger warning just in case]

I'm walking home. It's dark. I'm mesmerized by the beauty of the city that never sleeps so I don't notice the steps that followed me, unnoticed, from behind. Before I can even realize what's going on, I'm pushed into a dark alley. I'm hearing voices that scream words that I've heard whispered by others before, as I walked around campus. One of them- I don't even know how many of them are... one of them punches me in the jaw, then my stomach. I fall to the ground, then I try to get up and run. I hear someone yell "Coward!" and push me back to the ground. I fall again, then I feel a hard kick in my head. Then, darkness.

...

My name is not C.M., though. This is not my story. I am simply a means of communication here. I, Wisteria, am telling you this story beause C.M. himself can't.

And I hate to be telling you this story because I firmly believe I am not in the position to talk about it. But this story, though anonymous, needs to be told.

Give voice to these people. Listen to them.

...

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Two months later

December 25th, 2020

JERRY BAYNARD is busy wrapping some presents as he sits in bed when, through his window, he spots his sister walking up the pathway.

Anne didn't take the car today; the snow made it almost impossible to drive down the roads and everyone who knew her knew for sure that security matters were always a priority for her – plus, she would never admit to anyone how scary it was for her to drive on snow.

The only thing she can hear right now is the faint noise of her own boots hitting the thick layer of snow over the pavement. She curses to herself for having forgotten her earphones at home. In the end, though, she reckons that on her silent walk back home, she has had time to reflect on the past few months as she walked by, eyes fixed on the snowy ground before her until she's home before she can even realize.

October literally flew by. Anne and Stella didn't go out that Halloween of 2020, considering that Cole wasn't there with them. Their visits to the hospital became a routine, just to talk to him or hold his hand. Anne got frustrated after two weeks of visits and nothing, not even the tiny, almost imperceptible move of his finger. His doctors, however, insisted on the fact that just the sound of a familiar voice would do him good. Stella was way more optimistic about the whole situation, convinced that he'd wake up sooner than later.

Nothing special happened during November except Diana's visit. She spent five days in New York with Anne, where they basically visited museums, art galleries and even go to a Broadway musical. But none of those activities could get Anne's mind to clear off for a bit. Her mind was always somewhere else, and Diana knew there was nothing much she could do besides give her friend her company and support.

It's December now, and as you might have already guessed, Anne's not really going through her best moment. She thought that the passing of time would give her some perspective. She thought that somehow, she'd get used to almost daily visits to the hospitals or answering worried phone calls from the people she loved the most with a simple, short "No, he hasn't woken up yet. Yes, I'm fine".

But time hasn't given her what she wanted.

It's Christmas today. The whole gang is in town and they're all supposed to go to a party at Queen's Café that evening... but nothing really appeals to her.

The feeling of guilt has not left her brain since the night Cole was attacked. She did write an article and it got published (on a the NYU's website, anyway) but it didn't get much recognition and sometimes, as she lies down in bed late at night she wonders if she shouldn't have used that nom de plume. Or maybe she shouldn't have used such an aggressive tone. Or maybe she should've been way more direct. Or maybe she shouldn't have written anything at all.

Who was she trying to fool, anyway? There was no possible way that her words could make an impact. Nobody cared about what she had to say.

On the other hand, she also wonders if she even has the right to feel this miserable. She's not the one in a coma, lying in a hospital bed. She's not the one that almost died. She's not Cole's mom, completely devastated and with those black circles under her eyes. She's not Cole's dad, tormented by the fact that he didn't realize sooner that his son was never "his little girl", like he used to call him. She's not Cole's little sister, Cara, just turned five years-old, who doesn't even understand what's going on.

She can't help but feel a bit selfish.

And in all her misery, Gilbert's not there with her. He's spending Christmas in Toronto, meeting Mary's family. In the end, the baby was due to born in February, and families needed to gather together to finally meet each other. It made sense and she was supportive of him spending the holidays away. After all, it was her who had to talk some sense into him after several video calls and finally force him to go. "I can't leave you alone on Christmas!", "Toronto sucks anyway", he'd said.

"Where have you been all this time?!"

Anne blinks twice as she looks into her adoptive mother's blue eyes. She was so entranced in her own thoughts that didn't even realize how she has just opened the front door and walked into the house.

Marilla Cuthbert is staring at her, arms crossed and eyes waiting for a response. Anne checks the clock hanging on the wall.

"Jerry and I have been waiting for you for over an hour," Marilla says as soon as she spots her daughter walking in with snow on her shoes. "Take your boots off"

"Yes, I know, I'm sorry," Anne replies quickly, taking her eyes away from the clock before proceeding to take off her boots, scarf and coat. "I stopped by at the McKenzie's"

"Oh..." Marilla understands now, her brow softening at the mention of Cole's family. "And how are they doing, Anne? It must be really hard for them during this time of the year..."

They tried to bring Cole to Charlottetown's hospital but his situation was too severe, the doctors explained. His parents were spending an insane amount of money on plane tickets just to visit him every now and then. It must be a crazy, sick nightmare for Cole's parents; how one day they were just on their way back home  from work and the day after that they had to spend part of their savings to visit his son that is now in a coma.

"How are they doing?" is a question that not even wordy Anne Shirley-Cuthbert can't seem to answer. "The best they can do when their 20-year-old son is in coma, I guess," she wants to say. Instead, she only mumbles:

"Yes, it must be," Anne nods. "I brought them apple pie, by the way"

"I've raised you up well"

Anne smiles faintly. She sniffs; her nose is still red from the cold outside.

"Yes, you have," Anne mouths quietly, struggling to keep eye contact with Marilla. "Can I go to my room now?"

Marilla knows her daughter's not going through her best moment. Even though Anne never shared any of her frustrations with her (or anyone else, for that matter) there are certain sort of things that a mother just knows. Call it instinct.

"Well," Marilla says cautiously. "Jerry and I will lit a fire, you go get changed and we'll wait down here to open the presents, alright?"

Marilla watches her daughter nod and disappear as she heads upstairs.

Anne walks into her room, closing the door behind her and leaning her back against it. She closes her eyes and allows herself to take a deep breath and try to wipe off the heavy weight off her shoulders she's been feeling all day.

She turns her head to the right and lays her eyes on the dress resting on top of her bed. Marilla must've put it there. It's a short-sleeved, velvet burgundy dress, a bit open on the back.

"Let's get ready, then"

After a long shower that does make her relax a bit, she does her makeup, trying to focus on every single detail. It might be stupid, but it keeps her mind busy on other stuff for a while.

She is changing into her dress, just adjusting it on her shoulders, when her phone beeps out of the sudden.

Days like these, with Cole constantly on her mind, suck. But there's a certain contact name on her screen that never fails to make her smile immediately. Gilbert had apologized at least fifty times for leaving on Christmas. She guesses he must be worried about her since the Cole situation happened. Not only Cole was severely injured but her article didn't get much recognition and she was starting to get more and more frustrated about her vocation.

Graduation is just five months away and she doesn't even know what to do with her life anymore. All of her friends seem to have everything under control, even the messy Ruby Gillis was already thinking ahead of her postgraduate studies... and Anne can't help but feel miserable, especially when she is just desperately trying to make some use out of her notebooks and write something that doesn't completely suck.

But again, who is she to feel miserable? Her friends and family would always support her, no matter what — she knows that. She is dating the most incredible human being on Earth and everything is stable and healthy between them... but the thought of not becoming a writer within a few months is always there, at the back of her mind, like a tiny little voice that sometimes whispers "You're not gonna make it" when everything else is quiet.

And everything is so silent and so loud at the same time these days.

Well, days like these suck, but at least she has Gilbert Blythe. He's not physically there with her, but he never fails to send her a text message to brighten up her day just a tiny bit.

Gilburrito 💙
how was the visit to the mckenzie's?

It doesn't take more than three seconds for her to type a reply.

AnnE
hard
sad
depressing

Gilburrito 💙
:(
sorry to hear that
are you okay?

AnnE
yup, i took a long walk on my way home
it did me good i think

Gilburrito 💙
good 🥰
now get your ass ready for the party
and have fun, clear your mind
i wish i was there :(

AnnE
i wish you were here too :(

how do I look?

Gilburrito 💙
you shouldn't have sent that pic
now i miss you even more
not fair 😶

AnnE
you're an idiot
gotta open some presents
FaceTime later tonight?

Gilburrito 💙
sure
love you

AnnE
love you more

Gilburrito 💙
eh, only i get to say that

AnnE
😜

Anne leaves her phone on her desk before heading downstairs, now in the velvety, burgundy dress that she has chosen for the occassion along with some tights and high-heeled boots. She tries to remember the last time she'd put an effort on her make-up and outfit, and she feels miserable the moment she realizes she can't.

The living room is filled with the usual Christmas decoration. It's mostly Jerry and Ruby's doing. Apparently, the blonde had showed up early this morning to help Marilla with home decoration and some cake baking whilst Anne was still asleep.

The Christmas tree by the window is sparkling with colored lights. It reminds Anne of last year's Christmas and how Ruby encouraged Anne to make a wish.

The gift-opening session doesn't last much. Jerry gets a hand knit sweater from Marilla, just like he does every year, and a few new Xbox video games. As for Marilla, she gets a brand new tea set with some fancy tea bags and a new pair of glasses.

Marilla Cuthbert's presents for her daughter consist on a thick, leather journal and a pile of old books from the vintage bookstore downtown, the one she and Gilbert used to visit all the time last summer.

"I'm sure these presents will trigger your imagination," Marilla says as she gives her an attempt of the wink of her eye. "Just don't push yourself"

"Thank you, Marilla. I love it!"

Marilla is a bit taken aback when her daughter basically jumps over the sofa to wrap her arms around her and give her the warmest of hugs. Anne is not usually the hugger, and neither is Marilla, but the old woman realizes Anne might just need it today.

"I'm happy you like them"

Anne doesn't know if it is the spirit of Christmas, the effect of a mother's hug or the fact that she's wearing a nice dress after a long time, but she suddenly feels a bit better.

They're just there, sitting on the couch, surrounded by presents and having cookies and milk (a tradition that doesn't seem to go away at the Cuthbert's). There's an empty spot at the old armchair by the fireplace that would've brought her to tears a couple of years ago. Now she just smiles fondly, reliving memories of Matthew in her head.

"I should head to Ruby's to open some presents," Jerry says after a while. "See you later at Queen's?"

"Sure"

Her brother takes a quick look out of the window. Snow is starting to melt down.

"Mind if I take the car?"

"No problem, Marilla can drive me, right?"

Soon Jerry's out of sight. Anne smiles as she watches him get in the car and disappear into the white road. He's wearing a shirt and one of Matthew's old coats and she can't help but think he looks so grown up. When the hell did this happen? They were teens not long ago, just entered high school. Now there he was, just turned 20, sort-of steady job, about to spend some quality time with his lovely girlfriend and her parents.

Anne realizes then that even though there's some misery in her life, she has something to feel grateful for. There was a great thing about her group of friends and it was the fact that they all had seemed to grow up together. There were family now. Anne thinks about the idea of being tied to Ruby, for example, as sisters-in-law the a future, and she loves it.

"There's one more present," Marilla's voice shakes Anne off her thoughts. "It's in your bedroom"

The girl wonders which kind of present it could be so that it didn't fit in the living room. "Please, please, let it be a new study desk," she mentally pleads. With a shrug, she heads upstairs with Marilla quietly following behind, the latter trying to hide her silent excitement.

Anne opens the door with a spark of curiosity that perhaps she's not physically showing.

There's a tall figure standing in the center of the room, distractedly staring at the polaroids covering the grey walls of her room.

As soon as he notices the presence of the girl and the older woman in the room, he casually turns his face back to the door.

"Oh, hi"

Standing with his usual grey shirt that he's worn a thousand times, black pants and untamable curls, there he is, Gilbert Blythe himself! His hands shoved in his pockets and a big smile is plastered on his face.

"What?! Shit! No way! No way!"

Although it takes everything in her not to correct her daughter's langauge, Marilla rolls her eyes and, with a smile, leaves them be and leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

Anne stands right there, staring at him blankly.

He seems unreal.

Gilbert Blythe, on the other hand, inevitably twists his mouth into a lopsided, teasing smile.

"If I didn't know you any better I'd say you're not happy to see me"

She blinks twice, looking at him in awe.

"Well, no welcome kiss?"

She hurried to wrap her arms around his torso, one hand silently creeping him to cup the back of his neck, getting lost in the slightly longer curls. He corresponds her touch by resting his hands on her waist, pulling her even closer to him as she kisses him tenderly yet desperately, as if there was nothing else she wanted to do at the moment.

"Hi," she finally whispers once she pulls away; blue eyes looking up at him.

"Hi," he says after pecking her lips one more time.

She stares lovingly at him, as if it had been years since they last time they'd seen each other, scanning everything single detail on his face. It had just been a month and a half or so, but she'd made up her mind that she wouldn't seen him on Christmas so seeing him still felt like a daydream.

"Shirley, you really need to kiss me more and stop staring at me like some creep. I know I'm handsome but you're kind of freaking me out"

She slaps his arm. Idiot.

"Shut up! What are you doing here? I thought you were spending the holidays with Mary's family in Toronto!"

"And leave my beautiful, smart, pain-in-the-ass girlfriend here?" he says. "Nah, absolutely not"

"So you lied to me!"

"Yeah, I did"

Then he proceedes to explain how he was indeed in Toronto. He just spent two days there, then took the plane back to Avonlea and just arrived that morning.

She grins. "You're the best"

"I'm Gilbert Blythe, baby"

She throws him to bed.

"Baby? I take it back. You're the biggest ass in this world"

"My ass is-"

"Very nice, I'm aware, thank you. You should really extend your idiolect, Gilbert Blythe"

"Idiolect?"

"Speech habits peculiar to a person"

"You know, you shouldn't be dirty-talking to me when your mom's downstairs. I might not be able to keep it in my pants"

She laughs. "Dickhead"

"Actually, my dick-"

"No! Shut up! I've had you for two minutes and I've had enough of your bullshit"

"But you told me to extend my idiolect!"

"You could extend it by telling me how the fuck you got in. I came to my room before and I'm pretty sure you weren't here! I even took a selfie and you- you and I were texting!"

"Marilla suggested I used the window" he says. "You see, spending time with Josephine Barry's circle is making her a full-time-on romantic girl"

Anne laughs. "So you climbed in through my window like Romeo?"

"Jerry might have left a staircase in the backyard for me"

"So Jerry knew too?"

"Everybody knew, Juliet," he says, poking her nose playfully.

She smiles. "You know, I usually hate surprises but I love them if they involve you"

"I know," he smiles too.

He opens his arms for her as he lies down on her bed. She wraps her arms around his torso and rests her head on his chest. It's a long hug — he squeezes her back, her hair is tickling his face.

"Thank you for coming"

"It's alright"

"No, I mean it. I needed you and you came. I didn't even have to ask and you came. You're the best"

"You've already said that. You've ran out of words already? Damn, Shirley, I've only been here for five minutes. Extend your idiolect!"

She notices how he's trying to keep the air just flirty and goofy so that her mind is somewhere else. She appreciates it. It's not the sad look Marilla or Jerry often give her. He's simply trying to keep her mind busy with their usual back-and-forth banter.

"You're such an idiot"

"See? You've already said that too. Don't worry, that's the Gilbert Blythe effect, it'll pass soon. I can prescribe you some pills so that you can recover"

"I'll try to ignore how cocky you are being right now for the sake of romance, you know?" she scoffs a laugh. "I just can't believe you're here. I know we're not that far apart but I feel like we've wasted quite enough time over the years being mad at each other... being here with you, lying so peacefully next to each other still feels like a dream, don't you think?"

New York and a Philadelphia were close. But they were busy most of the time and FaceTime dates were not as frequent as they would like them to be.

"Yeah," he says, more serious now. "I know what you mean"

He reaches for her hand, interlocking their fingers together. He starts drawing silent caresses with his thumbs over her knuckles.

"I just wish I could see you every day and do the kind of stuff we like, like, having coffee or going to a book store, I don't know... just hang out"

"I wish we could do that too," he says. "But summer's just six months away. Will you be able to make it, Shirley?"

"Are you challenging me?"

"That's exactly what I'm doing. Now, will you?"

"I think so"

They stay like that, looking at each other for a while.

"You know, you're by far the best Christmas gift I've ever got"

"Oh, that reminds me... I have something for you"

She watches him stand up and pace around her room all comfortable and familiar, and she can't help but smile. They've just been dating for, what, four, five months? How is it possible to develop such familiarity and comfortableness in such a short amount of time?

Gilbert then crouches down beside her bed, looking for something hidden under it. She wonders what he might have hidden under her bed for her to go unnoticed.

It's small gift. It could easily be a book, considering the size, but it's not thick enough and if he knows her that well, he should know that the number of pages of a book was always her number one criteria to choose a book as a present (The Great Gatsby was the only exception).

But it's not a book, she finds out as soon as she tears down the wrapping paper under his now attentive, somewhat nervous gaze.

It's a framed drawing. A portrait of none but herself, one Cole drew months ago with water colors. She remembers the day. They were having picnic on campus and she was rambling about the back then upcoming Fred and Diana's wedding and how she was so mortified about seeing Gilbert again. Her hair, a mix of red and orange colors, is down, and there's a field of colorful flowers and some buildings on the back.

"I thought about it and texted Stella so that she could send it to me... so... yeah" Gilbert mumbles. "I hope you like it"

"Like it?" she realizes she's about to tear up a bit. "Gilbert, I- I love it. I don't know what to say"

"Don't say anything. I'm happy you like it"

"Thank you," she hugs him as they sit on her bed. "I love you so much, so so so much"

"I love you more"

She stays silent for a while, just letting her arms wrap even tighter around his torso.

"Just so you know," Gilbert whispers. "I'm sure he'll get to draw you another one and a thousand more soon"

Just his words make her start crying. A single tear rolls down her face, silently, but he realizes.

"Hey, Shirley- it's alright"

"I miss him so much," she mumbles. "I wanna talk to him, I need to talk to him"

"I know"

Gilbert places one of his hands on top of hers, caressing her knuckles softly. With her free hand, she still holds the portrait, looking at it.

"I just hate it. I hate it that there's so much hate in this world, Gilbert," she says, sniffing her tears away. "Because what happened to Cole is just a small glimpse into a broader picture, you know? Because shit like this happens every day and we don't even hear about it. And I'm sick of it, I'm so sick of it. And I can't help but wonder if maybe the problem wasn't my article – maybe the problem was that people don't really care about this kind of things. Maybe they're too privileged to even think about it. Maybe they will never care... and there's nothing I can do about it because, well, I'm just a girl who writes sometimes. I'm not an author or anything. No one will ever hear me or them. No one will ever hear or pay attention to these stories, Gil. They just don't care."

He looks at her with a pitiful look. He knows she hates that kind of look, but it's the only thing he can work out after her words. He's overwhelmed, a for the first time in a long time, he doesn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry," he finally says after a few seconds of thinking. "I wish I could do something about it. I wish I could knock on every single person in the world's front door and lecture them and educate them about this. I'm so sorry, Anne. I wish I could help but I don't know what to do or what to say. I can only assure you that I will always listen to you and everything you have to say. Always."

He places his hand on her shoulder in a friendly way, and just that small gesture and his words are enough for her.

She looks back at him now.

"Merry Christmas, Gil"

His heart skips a bit when she calls him Gil. She's done it before, a couple of times, but still.

"Merry Christmas, Shirley. And by the way, I have to say that you look absolutely stunning, like, straight out of a daydream"

"Shut up, asshole," she says with a nasal voice, wiping what seems to be her last tear away. "Let me give you my present. I didn't get to wrap it up since I wasn't supposed to see you until next week but..."

She tells him to close his eyes as she looks for her present in her closet.

Anne places the wrapped present on his hands, telling him now to open is eyes.

"Is this...?" Gilbert says as he tears the wrapping paper off with curiosity.

"A mixtape. Yes. I know, I know, it's super cheesy," she says, fiddling with her fingers as she watches him hold and admire the mixtape carefully from different angles, as if she had just gifted him a masterpiece.

"It really is super cheesy," he makes a short pause after that. "And that's why I love it"

"It has every song that reminds me of you," she says, sitting by the edge of her bed again. "I mean, there are a lot but um, I had to cut it up a bit so I included some new ones."

Gilbert checks the track list his girlfriend has so conveniently attached to the mixtape with a handwritten note.

01. Invisible string - Taylor Swift

"Wow, starting off with Taylor Swift, huh?"

"Ruby told me to give it a listen because it was perfect for us, and, hey, turns out she was right"

"You think it's a Jane Eyre reference?"

Anne looks up to his boyfriend, eyes meeting. She quirks one of her eyebrows, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

"I hope it's a Jane Eyre reference"

02. A groovy kind of love - Phil Collins
03. Keep on loving you - Cigarettes after sex
04. Let's fall in love for the night - FINNEAS
05. Your love is my favorite band - The Vaccines
06. Lose it - SWMRS
07. Reflections - The Neighbourhood

"Best present ever, Shirley. Wanna listen to it tonight?"

"Tonight?" she blinks twice, a bit confused. There were no intentions of his staying over tonight, not that she was aware of, at least.

"Oh yeah, there's more to the surprise, actually. Fred and I have the house all for ourselves so... we're hosting a slumber party"

"A slumber party," she raises an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah"

"You do realize you're 20, right?"

"Yes, I'm aware, thank you for reminding me that I'm an old man"

"You really are an old man"

"Shut up, Shirley, you're an old lady too"

She snorts a laugh away. "Alright, old man, back to the slumber party"

"Right, you see, there's just one essential requirement to get in. You have to wear that breakfast club pajamas. That's the only rule"

She playfully punches his chest. "That's a shame, I left it in New York".

Mentioning New York makes her think about Cole again. And suddenly she gets tense.

Shit.

"We don't have to go to Queen's if you don't feel like it," he whispers cautiously, realizing the look on her face.

"It's fine," Anne says, giving him a reassuring look. "It'll do me good. Besides, I don't think we could get away with it. If we chose not to go, Ruby would be here to drag us here in ten seconds"

Gilbert chuckles. "True"

"Thanks, though,"

She gives him her best and most honest lopsided smile. Right before Gilbert has the chance to answer, Marilla Cuthbert knocks on the door.

"Gilbert!" the woman says from the other side of the door. "Will you come downstairs? I believe Santa left a couple of presents here for you"

"F-for me?"

Anne wishes she could've photographed the look on Gilbert's face when he heard Marilla's words. He looked so much like a child about to eagerly open presents on a Christmas morning.

The couple soon follow Marilla downstairs, into the living room. Anne didn't even know that Marilla had bought something for Gilbert. She should've guessed it, though, because she's been buying some stuff for Ruby over the past few years she's been saying Jerry.

Turns out Marilla got Gilbert a pair of dark-brown leather gloves that looked more expensive than they should. However, it was the second present what got Gilbert the most excited.

"A hand knit sweater? Marilla!" Gilbert exclaims, holding his new sweater right before him, admiring every greenish woolen thread of it. "Thank you so much! No one's ever... knit a sweater for me. This is so cool, I'll wear this every day! Even in summer!"

"I'm happy you like your presents," she says. Anne watches her curiously; it's so good to see how Marilla has grown out of her hard and stern shell over the years. "Oh and how's Mary?"

"Oh, she's alright. She's due to February"

"Do they know the gender of the baby already?"

"Say sex, Marilla"

Marilla rolls her eyes. "Do they know the sex of the baby already?"

"They're actually supposed to get the results next week," Gilbert smiles shyly. "Sebastian's pretty sure is a girl, though"

Marilla smiles. "Well, let us know as soon as you now! I'll be glad to knit something for the baby as well"

"Marilla! How many times do I have to tell you? Clothes and color have no gender. Just pick whichever color and start knitting!"

Marilla sighs. "How do you put up with her, Gilbert? I know she's right, but she's like a whining little voice following me all the way to the house every hour of the day!"

"Marilla!" Anne gasps. "That's not true!" she complains, then looks at her boyfriend. "That's not true"

Gilbert laughs. "The question is, Marilla, how she gets to put up with me," he adds, words followed by his usual charming smile that would make anyone melt. "And about the color, um- yellow's Mary's favorite so I guess it'll be a good choice"

"Yellow it is"

As hard as it sounds to believe, Anne doesn't talk as much as she usually does. She stays silent and watches Gilbert and Marilla as they talk. They get along very well. She loves how he makes small talk interesting. She loves how he's such a people's pleaser, how he has that ease to talk to anyone yet he's so introverted and private at the same time. It's like there were layers and layers of Gilbert Blythe and throughout the years he's allowed her to get to the very last one.

Minutes later they're standing on the hall, getting their coats and gloves and ready to leave for the party at Queen's.

"Now, lets head to that Christmas party. May I take your hand, Miss?"

"You may, Mr. Blythe. You think they'll play The Smiths?"

"I doubt it, but we can always sneak into the DJ's set"

___

"I love Queen's Café. It's just the smell of it. It smells like home"

Queen's Café is unbelievably crowded. Anne didn't notice the place was that big or that it could fit that many people. There are a few occupied booths and tables and some high stools near the bar whilst rest of the place has been turned into an improvised dance-floor. There's people dancing to an upbeat Christmas song song in every spot.

Anne's rambling, as per usual – she's trying to keep her mind busy. Gilbert just smiles; his silent invites her to continue.

"You know," Anne raises her voice a bit. "Diana, Ruby and I used to come here all the time. We celebrated our birthdays here and all. That booth over there...," she points to a booth in the corner, now occupied by a group of random people; if it wasn't for them, she could clearly see the younger version of herself and her two best friends talking about something stupid over carrot cake and coffee. "That was always out spot"

"Yeah, I remember. We came here a couple of times, Fred, Jerry and I," he smiles at the memories. "And we always find you guys there"

"Wanna know something funny?" she asks. "That booth right there was where I told Diana that I wasn't over you at all. Two summers ago"

He smiles. None of them were going through their best during that summer and reliving those memories could sometimes be painful, but at the end of the day, Gilbert loved hearing stories about what Anne was doing during that time. It made him wonder how different things could've been between them if they'd just sat and talk.

"I thought you hated me back then. Diana encouraged me to write... it had been such a long time since I'd last written something. Then I went home and thought of you, of us, and everything that happened between us, from the beggining... and words just flew easily in a way they never did before. I was completely sure of something for the first time in a long time"

"Okay, I'm going to have to stop you right there," he says, and before she has the chance to ask him why, he adds: "If you keep saying those things about me I'm going to end up dragging you to the back of the café"

"To the back of the café?" Anne asks, quirking an eyebrow. "Classy"

"You talking about words and letters and stuff just turns me on, you should know that by now"

She chuckles. "Asshole"

Gilbert smiles — it's the kind of mischievous, foolish smile that makes Anne know for sure he's about to say something stupid.

"Guys!"

And just then their friends appear into sight. They're all wearing Santa's hat and Ruby and Fred are probably too drunk for their own good.

"You're... forty seven minutes late!" the blonde girl huffs as she checks the time on her phone. "But I'm so happy to see you two!"

"Hey, guys. Merry Christmas"

Ruby pulls the two of them into a hug. "Merry Christmas to you too, lovebirds"

"Did she like the surprise?" Jerry asks as she hands both Anne and Gilbert a Santa's hat each.

"No, I'm afraid she hated it"

"Yeah, I can't wait until he's out of my sight again"

Fred instantly roll his eyes. He quickly gets his wallet out of his black leather jacket. "Wanna get some drinks? My treat"

Soon the group of friends lean against the bar, all six of them, reliving memories and waiting for whatever drinks Fred's ordered.

"Remember when Fred walked in after months without seeing him?"

Diana gives Ruby her classic I-am-about-to-kill-you stare. "Shut up"

"Oh, yeah. I walked in and you, Gillis, waved at me like some mad woman and our poor Diana here couldn't take the embarrassment!"

"I said shut up! The two of you!" Diana says, and although embarrassed, she has to admit she's kind of enjoying this short trip down memory lane. It had been a long time since the six of them were together — at least four months.

Ruby can't help but laugh uncontrollably as she comes up with her next memory to comment on.

"Remember when I used to have a crush on Gilbert?!"

"Oh no, please, no," Gilbert himself says, whilst his girlfriend, on the other hand, grins like a fool. "That was... uncomfortable"

"It really was," Ruby says. "I'm so sorry, Gil"

"You touched my arm like... in a very strange way"

"I was trying to flirt!"

"Yeah, and how did that work out for you, Rubs?"

They all start laughing.

"Let's not talk about futile attempts of flirting," Diana says sipping her drink. "We all know that Jerry here is the king of not knowing how to flirt"

"Hey!" whines Jerry, who's been quiet the whole time, just sipping his drink and laughing at their friends' jokes.

"Good thing you had me and Fred to guide you through the path of wisdom and love advice"

"Are you seriously going to talk about love advice, Gilbert Blythe?" Ruby points an accusatory finger at her friend. "Leave my boyfriend alone, at least it didn't take him years to date me!"

"Yeah, because it actually took him a whole decade," Anne says, earning a high five from Gilbert, who's standing right next to her.

"Fantastic, as always, Shirley"

"But hey, Ruby's right," Anne says, messing with him, of course. "It did take you years to date me"

"Stop roasting me in front of our friends"

"You're a very roastable person"

"You were literally dating someone else!"

Them the conversation seems go on and end up leading to casual friendly chatter.

"Anyway," Fred says, checking his watch, a very generous present from the lovely Josephine Barry. "I should get going to the stage, these people look like they need some fun"

"You're playing tonight?" Anne asks. "Thought you were taking the day off"

"A man's got to eat, tiger-Anne," Fred tells her, giving her the wink of an eye. "Don't worry, I'll see if there's some Smiths' lame shit I can cover"

Anne laughs. "Fuck off, Fred"

Fred is about to make his way to the backstage to grab his guitar and the rest of stuff he needs to perform when Ruby grabs his arm.

"Fred, wait!"

She seems to whisper something in his ear. Fred smiles instantly, eyebrows raised as he nods repeatedly.

"I'll see what I can do, Gillis," is the last thing he says, words directly aimed at the blonde, before he leaves to get his guitar and his amplifier ready for the little stage.

"Merry Christmas, everyone! I see a lot of familiar faces around here, so I guess you all must be already used to seeing me embarrass myself up here"

Everyone in the café laughs. Everyone loved Fred — always the charmer.

"Sing an original!"

"Take off your shirt!"

That last one was Gilbert. Anne watches him all excited and perhaps a bit under the effects of alcohol. His forehead is slightly sweaty and some of his curls are sticking to it. It makes him look way younger, just like he did when he was seventeen. The only thing that makes him look his age is his shirt, a bit unbuttoned because of the heat from the club.

"Anyway, I was meant to kick off with one of my original songs but..." Fred's eyes drift to Ruby in the audience then. "Someone might just have given me a really good idea"

Anne notices the exchange of looks between the two and instantly fears what they must be up to.

"This one's for my friends," he says, making all smile from the short distance. "Especially for the fiery redhead who looks like the grinch right now"

"He's such a showman," Ruby says proudly. "Notice how he's got the attention of everyone's eyes"

"He was born for this," Diana mentions quietly.

Anne flips Fred off, lifting her hand in the crowd so that he can see from the stage.

Fred's fingers then start to play the guitar effortlessly, playing the first chords to a familiar song. It's the theme song to Friends, of course! It couldn't have been otherwise. It's a show that Diana, Ruby and her used to watch all the time, and the melody sort of makes her smile, giggle and drink more, more and more.

Anne can't even explain how in a matter of seconds she and the rest of the gang have joined Fred in stage to dance around him and sing along.

After the song's finished, she forgets about everything else. Anne feels completely hyped up, dancing and twirling around, joking around with her best friends and without a worry in the world. For a few hours, at least.

___

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert feels a bit tipsy now. It's been months since the last time she had a drink. Not even a single pint or can of beer. She missed it back then, but now she's cursing herself because of the effects of alcohol on her. Her eyelids are heavier and she feels as if she's going to fall asleep soon.

[PLAY THE SONG NOW!]

She watches the crowd, dancing and twirling around so carelessly. She can almost see them in slow motion. It must be the sudden rush of emotion after having danced and sung at the top of her lungs with her friends, but she's exhausted.

There's balloons on the floor, sweat on the walls and just an air of carelessness that makes her jealous.

She watches her friends. Gilbert is clumsily dancing with Ruby, both of them about to trip on their feet. Diana and Jerry, not so drunk, keep their eyes on Fred and comment his performance between loud whispers. She can't even process whatever Fred's playing or singing. It's like she can't even hear him.

Suddenly, Cole crosses her mind. Not only Cole, also Stella.

Crawling up the beaches now
"Sir, I think he's bleeding out"
And some things you just can't speak about

And in some sort of epiphany, almost like a magic trick, her phone starts beeping. And her eyes go wide when she reads the contact name on her screen.

With you I serve,
with you I fall down.

She feels completely sobered-up right now, as if someone had thrown an iced-cold bucket of water over her head or as if she'd been slapped hard in the face.

And some things you just can't speak about

"Your phone... is beeping," a tipsy voice says, probably Ruby's.

"It's Stella," she says. "I should get this, I'll be right back"

Gilbert squeezes her hand softly before he lets her go outside. Gilbert? How long has he been standing next to her? "I'll be right here," he tells her right before he watches her disappear through the crowd.

It's windy. She doesn't realize until she's already outside but she hasn't brought her coat. The cold air of December is brushing her exposed arms and it makes the thin hair rise a little.

"Yes?" she finally picks up. It takes everything in her to do so because she knows that the moment she picks up, everything could change. Cole could be dead by now. Or in a vegetative state for life. He could also be okay, a reassuring voice says from the corners of her mind. But there was a very small chance of it, and she knew she had to be realistic. Whatever it was, she wasn't ready to face the answer.

"Anne, it's Stella, I know you're at the party but-"

"Hi, S," she says. "Everything alright?"

Anne asks this question carefully, as if some part of her wouldn't really want to know the answer. "Please, tell me everything's alright". The moment she saw Stella's name on the screen followed by the squeeze of Gilbert's hand, she knew it had to be about Cole.

So just as she lets the words out of her mouth, she closes her eyes and lets the wind caress her face and her hair, hoping for a moment of peace before what could be a storm of terrible news.

"Cole woke up"

And suddenly it's not windy anymore. It's calm, it's silent and Anne could swear she can even hear her own heart rapidly beating.

"H-he did?!" she says, probably raising her voice a little too much, because she's got the attention of a couple smoking not too far away from her. She hadn't even noticed them when she came outside.

"Yeah"

Anne remains silent for a while and so does Stella. If it wasn't for the sound of her friend's breathing from across the line, Anne could've sworn she'd put the phone down. The redhead notices a single tear of happiness rolling down her cheek, which she doesn't even care to wipe away.

"It's a Christmas miracle," Anne finally says. "I- I don't believe in miracles but this has to be"

"Yeah, it truly is"

"How- how is he?"

"He's alright, he's been awake for over an hour now. He's been asking for you non stop but his doctor says he should get some rest before FaceTiming everyone and all."

"Well, that makes sense, I guess"

"How the hell does that make sense? He's literally been asleep for two months, hasn't he got enough rest?" Stella says, and Anne can't help but crack an enormous grin at her friend's words.

"Oh, Stella," Anne realized now that not only she's smiling but she's crying as well. She rests her weight on Gilbert's Jeep, parked right there. "Fuck, I'm crying. I can't stop crying. Am I an idiot for crying?"

Stella chuckles on the other side of the line. "Yeah, you're an idiot, but I'm crying too. I have been for the past hour. Freaking Cole, I'm sure he's going to be making fun of me because of this forever." 

"What about his family...?"

"The hospital called them. They're already on their way. They're getting this incredibly expensive plane tickets to come and see him straight away"

"Please, S, tell me everything. I wanna know everything"

"One of his nurses was checking up on him and he- he suddenly had his eyes open! Turns out Cole was watching him as he prepared his medication! I was in the cafeteria having a late dinner when it happened. God dammit! I'm so mad that I missed it!"

"Don't be, I'm sure you played a big part in him waking up"

"Hey! You did too!"

"I don't think so," Anne sighs. "Right now I feel kinda guilty for being here, so far away from it all. Fuck, I should've been there"

"What are you talking about? You've visited him for two months straight, every day. You deserved a break. Besides," she says, and even though they're not face to face, Anne can perfectly picture a smug expression on Stella's face. "I've been reading out loud your stories and poems for him every day you've been away, so you've been there for him, even from the distance. I'm pretty sure he heard."

Anne chuckles. "I have, haven't I?"

"Which reminds me... Listen, Anne, he's received tons of letters and cards from people who read about him in the school's paper, wishing him a quick recovery. It's insane. You should see the way his room looks. He's... so shocked, in a good way, of course but I..."

Suddenly, Stella stops talking. And Anne fears the worst.

"Stella? What is it?"

"Give me a second," she says. "Something's happening"

"What? What's happening? Is it Cole? Is Cole safe?"

"Yeah, he's fine, I..."

"Stella!"

Anne doesn't get an answer for almost ten seconds. "Stella, talk to me!"

"Hey, sorry. Um- There's this woman asking about you, she's talking to Cole in his room, should I give her your number? She looks like she's in a hurry to talk to you or something"

A woman?

"Who the hell is she?" Anne says, realizing right after the words leave her lips that she might sound way too aggressive or overprotective.

"I have no idea and I'm not even sure how his doctors have let her in," Stella says. "Guess I'll have to interrogate Cole once they're done with their mysterious talk."

Anne frowns. She's not happy at the idea of some stranger talking to Cole after he's just woken up.

"Whatever, give her my number"

___

Her friends watch her get back inside, teary-eyed and with her make-up a bit ruined. And they fear the worst.

Gilbert is the one to step up first. "Shirley".

She's got five pair of eyes looking straight at her, waiting for an answer that might chance anything within seconds.

"Cole woke up"

Her friends look at her with eyes of pure relief and happiness. No one really moves or says anything until Ruby does.

"Really? Anne!"

And then she throws herself to the redhead's arms.

The rest of her friends soon join the hug as well. Anne can feel different arms surrounding her, patting her back, scruff in her hair and even a few kisses on her cheek, accompanied with the usual words "I'm so happy", "I told you he was going to get better!" and such.

"Well, I think this deserves a toast," Fred says once they've separated from the longest and messiest hug they've probably ever shared. "Hey, boss, round of shots over here! Please!"

The barman quickly prepares a tray with six glasses of shots. Each one of them grabs their shot and watches as Fred raises his glass up in the air, mimicking his moves.

"To Cole McKenzie," he says.

Anne is moved. Fred didn't even know Cole and her friends didn't know him as much as she did. She realized then that the gesture was meant more for her than for Cole. All of them know how hard everything's been for her for the past couple of months.

Anne looks at their friends with a sincere, moved smile. Gilbert knows she's trying her best not to cry.

"To ColeMcKenzie," she says before the sound of glasses toasting comes.

___

Anne feels truly static. Sure, she still has Cole on her mind, in that hospital bed during Christmas, but at least Stella promised her they could FaceTime tomorrow.

For now, her boyfriend's hands are cupping her face as they sway in the now slightly emptier café.

"Seems like everything is coming to place," he says.

"Yeah..."

Anne is about to close the short, barely inexistent distance between them with a kiss when the beep of her phone starts coming out of her purse.

"Your phone's ringing. Who is it? Is it Marilla?"

"I don't recognize the number," Anne frowns, checking the unknown combination of number on the screen. "Let me get this, I'll be right back"

She makes her way out of the crowd of people, cursing to herself because, well, who the hell would call on Christmas Day at almost midnight?

"Hello?"

She is standing on the pavement right outside Queen's Café again, now knowing what to expect.

"Good evening. Am I talking to Anne Shirley?"

"Shirley-Cuthbert, yes, it's me"

"Excuse me for the bad timing"

"Uh, yeah, yes- there's no problem at all"

"We've been looking for you"

We? Anne inevitably frowns. She doesn't like the idea of anyone looking for her.

"Uh... well, you've found me, I guess?"

"Stella Maynard gave me your phone number. I hope that's alright with you"

Right. That mysterious woman! She was so busy being happy for Cole that she had simply forgotten about her.

"No problem," Anne says, then clears her throat after that. "How can I help you?"

Anne wonders if this mysterious woman could be a detective or something like that. Who knows, maybe she wanted some information about the jerks who attacked Cole – they attacked Gilbert and her as well, so it was the only thing that could make sense.

"We read your article"

Oh.

Oh.

"But... it was anonymous," she blurts out. "I- I used a nom de plume"

"I'm calling you from The Daily Globe Bulletin. We are-"

"A local newspaper. From New York. Yes, ma'am, I'm aware"

Ma'am! What the hell was she doing? She suddenly sounds way more polite and charming than she could ever imagine.

Anne freezes right there in her spot. In the back of her mind, there's a tiny voice whispering the reason why this lady in the other side of the line is actually calling her.

But it can't be.

Right?

"Well, Anne, we'd be interested to see you for an interview if you'd like"

"I'm sorry," she bites her bottom lip, partly because of the cold and partly because of the rush of nervousness that's going through her body at the moment. Her high-heeled boots are  nervously shaking on the pavement. "An interview for what?"

"We'd love to have someone like you in our team, Miss Shirley-Cuthbert"

"Team?"

Anne mentally slaps herself. She sounds so immature, childish stupid. How can someone sound so stupid?!

"We fell in love with the way you write"

"I- I don't know what to say, I-"

Anne can hear a soft chuckle across the line. "We think you have a lot to say about a lot of topics"

Five minutes later, Anne can't even remember how the conversation goes by — it just does, and before she can realize her phone is on her left hand and she's standing in the middle of the pavement. And everything else is falling away. She seems to forget about the party, the faint effects of alcohol making its way down her system or the bustling noise the crowded place.

She automatically walks back inside, looking for the only person she needs to talk at the moment.

"Gil?" she tugs at his sleeve once she finds him, talking to Jerry as they wait in line for the toilet.

"Hey! Where were you? Ruby wants to take some photos of-"

"Can we talk? Outside?"

He looks a bit perplexed as he replies. "Of course"

Her boyfriend doesn't say anything else. He just places his open palm on her back as he guides her out of the café.

Suddenly they're out in the cold of the night again. The snow on the pavement is slowly melting down, although it seems as if it's going to snow again tomorrow. Gilbert watches his girlfriend as she just paces around the street.

"Shirley? Everything alright?"

She doesn't reply or do anything besides pacing around him.

"Hey, you look so pale. Anne, talk, please. You're scaring me"

"I-" she stops right on her tracks, in front of him, looks at him, then says, "I have an interview. For a local newspaper. They... they said they fell in love with the way I write, and so, well? I don't know? I think I'm still drunk? I? I- I don't know"

"A local newspaper? The Avonlea Gazette?"

"No," she says very quietly. "In New York. A local newspaper in New York"

Of course, Gilbert should've known better. He should've that even though The Avonlea Gazette was a great newspaper, it was simply an understatement when it came to Anne.

"Shirley! That's great! That's- that's amazing!" he says, his hands on her shoulders before he pulls her into a hug. "I told you! I told you you were far too god for that shitty literary contest! Fuck them. All this time, life was keeping something even better than that for you!"

"So you're saying I should go? To the interview?"

He blinks twice — he wasn't expecting that kind of response from her. "Don't you want to?"

"Yeah, but- what if-? " she tried to explain herself, then decided it's better to cut the crap and get straight to the point. She can be like this with Gilbert — she knows that. "I'm scared"

"I see," he says. "Well, you have every right to be, but you're Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. They're the ones who should be afraid of you"

She chuckles, looking down at her shoes, a bit more relaxed now that she's dropped that weight off her shoulders. "Right"

"I mean it," he says. "Knowing you the way I do, I know you're going to be bossing around that newspaper in a matter of weeks"

"Shut up!"

He takes a step closer, placing his hands on her arms and rubbing them tenderly.

"See?" Gilbert says — he's obviously teasing her. "Bossy"

"You're an idiot," she looks up and gives him an honest smile. "But I still don't know what to do"

"Tell you what, why don't we enjoy the night while it lasts and talk about this tomorrow? We can even make a pro and cons list if you want to"

She smiles. "A pro con list? Damn, you're a keeper"

"Of course I'm a keeper," he tells her as he wraps an arm around her shoulders. "Wanna go back inside? We still haven't danced to a single good song together and I believe you owe me at least a dozen of dances for all the times we spent being two idiots that didn't talk to each other, don't you think?"

___

The girls are changing onto their pajamas in Gilbert's bathroom, getting ready for this so called slumber party. Diana's brushing her hair, as her daily night routine requires, Anne's just removing her make up and Ruby is brushing her teeth.

"A penny for your thoughts?" Anne asks Diana, who has been blankly staring at her own reflection in the mirror.

"What do you mean?"

"You seem thoughtful lately," the redhead says as she wipes off the remains of her wine-colored lipstick. "Just wondering if you wanted to talk about whatever you've been thinking of"

Diana leans against the sink. "I guess I've been thinking a lot about the future ever since the pregnancy scare"

Ruby raises her eyebrows as a sign of surprise as she keeps brushing her teeth, some toothpaste staining the corners of her mouth.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... would it have been so bad if I had been pregnant?"

"No, of course not! We would've supported you, you know that"

"I don't know. I was so scared but at the same time I was kinda disappointed when I found out it was just a scare," she sighs. "Is that weird?"

"Well, no-," Anne says, although if she's being honest, she does find it a bit weird; she's just not the best when it comes to advice giving. "I mean, you're young and all but... I don't know"

"I thought about my mom"

"Uh?"

Diana lets out a sigh. "I thought of every single thing that my mom has done wrong or simply not done whilst raising me," she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "I thought of my dad too but, you know, mostly my mom and I thought... maybe... if I were to be a mom... I could do so much better. For a moment I thought of having a baby and making them feel... more valuable"

"You'd be the coolest mom," Ruby finally joins the conversation, —verbally, because she's actually been following the conversation with silent stares and nods. "Besides, you're already a mom to all of us so I don't think it would make much of a difference!"

"True," Anne says.

"But anyway, that's just stupid," the raven-haired girl shakes her head and her thoughts away. "I've got plenty of time to become a mom. What about you, Anne? You've been distracted ever since called earlier"

"Oh," Anne mouths. "Nothing, I'm fine. Cole's fine — I'm happy"

"Is that all?"

Anne's about to answer and tell them all about the interview when a knock comes on the door, followed by Fred Wright's voice.

"Ladies! What's going on there? We've already set up our beds for the night and Gilbert's making hot chocolate! Hurry up!"

"I just brushed my teeth!" Ruby suddenly opens the door. "But you had me at hot chocolate"

___

"I really don't understand why we can't sleep on proper beds," Diana complaints as she tosses and turns inside her sleeping bag. "You do realize this is a two-story house with enough beds to fit the six of us, right?"

After a few hours of chatting, board games and hot chocolate, they're all seem set for the night. They're displayed on the floor of Gilbert's living room tucked in their sleeping bags with the company of the fireplace's warmth and the quiet air outside.

"That would just ruin the whole slumber party vibe!" Ruby says. "I'm sure Fred won't mind not spooning you for just one night, right Fred?"

"As long as I can spoon Jerry-boy, I don't mind"

Still inside his sleeping bag, Fred scoots closer to Jerry, making smooching noises.

"Go away, you creep"

Fred takes a quick look at Ruby lying in her sleeping bag next to him and delicately grabs part of her long golden locks and puts them over his head in some sort of fake wig look.

"Do you like me better like this, Jerry-boy?"

"You two becoming friends is like the best and worst alliance at the same time," Diana groans.

"I agree," Gilbert says.

"Me too," Anne adds.

"Me three," says Jerry, trying to push Feed away between laughs, still from inside his sleeping bag. "Fuck off, dude"

"Ruby, your boyfriend looks like a caterpillar"

With that and a short debate on whether Jerry did look like a caterpillar or not, they eventually fall asleep one by one.

___

In the dark, Gilbert notices there's a bump missing. He crosses the room, trying not to wake up a snoring Fred Wright next to him.

He walks out the living room, the wooden floor creaking underneath his sock-covered feet.

As soon as he walks into the kitchen he notices the air is different. There's a cold air coming from outside and the back door is ajar. It's the kind of thing that would annoy him but then he spots the missing silhouette he's been looking for, quietly sitting on the back porch.

Her back is turned to him.

"Hey," he whispers quietly, not wanting to startle her.

She turns her head to him, acknowledging his presence in the garden.

"Hi"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just thinking"

"As always," he pokes her forehead with his index finger, a shy smile instantly curving up her face. "That mind never sleeps"

Her smile slowly fades away, and he already knows what's wrong, or at least gets the idea.

He asks anyway.

"Wanna talk?"

She nods.

Gilbert sits right next to her and brings his knees close to his chest. He watches how she looks at the stars above them and he can't help but be in awe at how pretty she looks. She's not wearing any make up and her hair is down, cascading over her back. She's wearing an oversized sweater that's too old to be hers — it's probably been borrowed from Matthew's closet.

They stay silent for a while, looking at nothing in particular. Anne rubs her nose, now red from the cold outside, with the sleeve of her sweater.

He knows better than anyone else that she'll talk when she feels ready to do so.

"I'm so selfish, Gilbert," she says after a deep, long breath.

For the second time today, that wasn't what Gilbert was expecting.

"Um- you're not selfish. You're the most selfless, altruistic person I know," he says quite matter-of-factly.

That was a compliment coming from someone like him. He and only him was the most selfless and altruistic person she knew, probably along with Ruby.

"Well, I feel selfish," she changes her choice of words. "Cole just woke up after two months in a coma and I just got an interview for a really nice job," she pauses, then says, "then why do I feel so sad?"

"You're sad?"

"See? It doesn't make any sense. Not even you can understand"

His gaze instantly drops; his jaw clenches.

"I'm sorry"

She sighs. "No, I didn't mean it like that. What I mean is... what if I do get this job? What if they like me and I get a dream job that requires something that apparently I'm good at? I'd be a dream, Gilbert! My dream! That's all I've ever wanted! Probably not the journalist thing but I've always wanted to write and New York as always been my dream..."

Gilbert remembers all of those times at school when she rambled about being a best-selling novel author living in a tiny, book-crowded and coffee-scented apartment in New York. Her eyes would sparkle with excitement towards her vision of her own future.

He wants to tell her how proud of her he is, although she probably knows that already. He also wants to tell her how being a journalist could hold so many possibilities for her — she could even make interesting contacts and publish some novel she might already have perfectly planned on her mind.

"It's like my whole life I've had this sort of perfect plan. Get the best grades in high school? Check. Live in New York? Check. Get into NYU? Check. Become a writer? Almost-check," Anne explains whilst Gilbert keeps his eyes on her despite her not looking back — she never holds eye contact when she's rambling.

"I just don't get it," she sigh, rubbing her temple out of frustration. "I'm selfish and I'm ungrateful because... it really is my dream but- I'd have to move in to New York for good and I don't- I don't know. I don't feel very excited about it."

"New York has always been your dream," he says quietly. "They fell in love with your writing and I know you well enough to know that they'll fall in love with your personality and your mind too the moment you walk through that office's doors. I don't understand... what's holding you back?"

And suddenly it clicks. Everything felt blurry just a few seconds ago, but it's clear now. She looks at him then, a bit incredulous at the fact that he's being so naive, that he hasn't noticed himself yet.

Then, she whispers:

"Just... one thing"

Gilbert's eyebrows drop. His mind goes back to the first weeks of senior year, that one time at the school's cafeteria when Anne and him weren't even talking to each other —well, he was talking to her; she wasn't— and he asked her about her plans after graduation.

"I don't want to be the thing that's keeping you from getting where you want to"

"Don't say that," she says, eyebrows furrowed. "It's not your fault. I just... I've wasted too much time being without you all these years and now that we're finally together... it just makes me sad to be away for a whole summer and the rest of the year too. Who knows, I may be thinking ahead but this job thing might be a permanent thing"

"Let's move in together"

He blurts it out just like that, without even thinking or processing it. He'd thought about it before, but he'd never told her. In the end, they'd only been dating for what, five months? And he didn't want to ruin what they had with such pressure and extreme planning ahead.

"What?" she looks right at him now, wide-eyed.

"Let's move in together," he says with a sudden confidence now. "I know we may be rushing things but- as you said, we've wasted enough time, right? Let's to this. Let's just do it, Shirley. If you want to, of course"

"But, how...?"

"I'll transfer to NYU. Yeah, yeah- I can do that. I'm sure I can do that. I'll do that. Philadelphia sucks without you and Roy is a pain in the ass"

She chuckles. "He really does sound like a pain in the ass"

Gilbert takes her hand, then looks at her straight in the eye, taking her hands in his. The gesture makes her shiver. This seems like a promise, like a scene straight out of one of her favorite Victorian novels.

"Shirley, it's still three more years until I'm done with medical school. And I don't know, it's not like I have much savings but I'll get a job if necessary and- it won't be perfect but I can guarantee I'll make you laugh and I'll do the dishes because I know you hate doing them, only if you promise to make the bed and- and, I'll make coffee every morning, and I don't know, we don't have to do this if you don't want to-"

"I want to!" she interrupts him. "Of course I want to!"

"Really?"

"Yes, really! There's nothing I would want more! Are you serious?"

"Yeah"

He looks happy. He looks really, really happy. It's the same look he had on his face the night she told him she loved him. And that was months ago now.

Gilbert pulls her closer just to wrap his arms around her as they still sit on the back porch.

"Fuck, Shirley," he says. "We're growing up too fast"

"Yeah, we really are"

Sometimes, the quick passing of time scared her. It doesn't seem like she met Gilbert three years ago.  It felt as if they'd known each other forever and most of the time it felt weird to imagine a life that had no Gilbert in it.

She leans her head on his shoulder. They silently watch a couple of stars in the dark sky that can be spotted above them.

"What got you smiling so hard?" Anne says, eyeing him just for teasing purposes. He's smiling widely, as if his smile could drop off his face.

"I'm just thinking," he says. "When we first met, you couldn't stand me. Remember Billy Andrews' party? You said some pretty nasty things about me"

"Oh, I remember," she says. "You broke poor Ruby's heart"

Anne remembers. It's been three years and she still remembers that night with such ease.

"You yelled at me for making out with someone"

"Yeah, that was probably mean"

"You also said I wasn't your type and that you'd never make out with me, hm..." he says. "What do you have to say about that, Shirley?"

"In my defense I have none"

"Yet here we are now. About to move in together"

She smiles. Almost in a cinematic-like way, memories of her and Gilbert flash in her mind. Just the perspective of making a thousand more memories with him makes her stomach scream with excitement and anticipation.

"I'm so glad I met you, Gilbert"

"I'm so glad I met you too, Shirley"

Snowflakes start falling down, and it makes Anne shake her head at the extremely cheese and romantic scenario they're suddenly involved in.

"Shit, it's snowing"

"That's good," Gilbert says, looking up and catching snowflakes with his hands. "That means Ruby can build a snowman tomorrow if the snow doesn't melt.

"We should go back inside, though. Don't want to catch a cold"

She stands up and helps him stand up as well. They make their way back inside and stop by the kitchen to get some midnight treats.

"I'm getting a cup of tea," he says, getting two cups out of his cupboard.

"Do you have-"

"There's decaf coffee and oat milk in the left cupboard"

"You're always one step ahead, aren't you?"

He chuckles. "Of course I am"

She sits on the kitchen counter as she watches him prepare everything; the kettle is boiling and suddenly the kitchen is impregnated with her favorite smell.

Gilbert places their cups on the counter, right next to her, then says:

"By the way, Shirley... we're under the mistletoe"

"Hm...," she says, looking up to the dull, white ceiling. "No, we're not"

"You sure about that?"

Out of the pockets of his black hoodie that he always uses as a pajamas, he gets some mistletoe. Just like that. It makes her roll her eyes.

"Have you seriously been carrying that around in your pocket just to do this?" she snorts a laugh. "Pathetic"

"I'll only tell you if you kiss me"

She shakes her head in disbelief before cupping the back of his head and bringing him closer to her, lips meeting.

"Yes, I have been," he giggles between kisses. "Any problem with that?"

"Not at all," she says as she pecks his lips one more time.

"Merry Christmas, Shirley"

"Merry Christmas, Gilbert"

None of them want to go back to sleep yet, so they quietly sway under the kitchen's dimming light for a while, enjoying their hot drinks and chatting and commenting on the night.

"You have a great future ahead of you, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. I'm so glad you're going to let me be a part of it"

___

A/N

YES, IT'S ME. I'M BACK AFTER MONTHS. I'M SORRY FOR THE DELAY. HI!

So that was chapter 18! Hope you enjoyed it and hope you don't mind these months of vacation I've taken. There's been a lot going on in my life and I needed to take a break and prioritize other stuff :) But I'm glad to be back!

I also hope you're all doing okay with all this coronavirus thing. Physically I'm at my best health but I've been struggling with mental health and anxiety with this whole situation and I guess that some of you might have been dealing with the same thing. I'm sending lots of warm hugs to all of you, wherever you are!!!! 💘 Stay safe.

Feel free to drop your comments about this chapter in general and your theories for the ending here! I'm curious!

Love,

blythexcarrots

P.S.: Two important things for me to say about Cole's storyline

1) I am not part of the LGBTQ community myself, but I am a full supporter of it. If anything I wrote in Anne's article by the beginning or the chapter is incorrect or offensive, please DO tell me and I will edit it ASAP. We all can learn new things every day :)

2) I was unsure about Cole's ending. I didn't know if I wanted his character to die or not. But the COVID happened and I realized there was too many stuff going on irl to suffer on the internet as well, so, yeah, he lives!