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They’re eight and she’s got the knobbiest knees Gilbert has ever seen.
There’s a light drizzle covering the farm and his dad is too sick to come out and work, but Gilbert finished bringing the cows in an hour ago and is sitting on the fence at the edge of their property, feet kicking idly back and forth. He’s not worried about the rain because he has a hat on and his winter coat. Plus working on a farm got the blood flowing, or so said his dad. The chances of him getting sick were really slim.
His neighbor, on the other hand, is definitely going to get pneumonia.
She’s over on the dirt road making mud pies. Not in danger of getting hit by a car or anything, but definitely far off her property line and wearing a short, thin dress that’s already clinging to her skinny arms. She’s got red hair, bright blue eyes, and a wide smile. She’s talking to herself out there, hands diving into the mud before flinging up to the sky with wild declarations. She looks a little crazy and it makes Gilbert giggle.
There’s no way she hears the sound, but suddenly she’s off like a rabbit, scurrying along the roads edge only to fall not far from Gilbert’s fence. She’s face planted right into a puddle of mud. He climbs down and rushes over like he knows his father would. By the time he reaches her, she’s yanking herself from the filth, face and hair all painted brown. She’s laughing.
"You're all muddy," he greets the girl.
“I am perfectly refined and delicate!” she retaliates nonsensically, tossing her muddy locks over her shoulder. She scoops mud off her cheeks by the handful to reveal a constellation of tiny freckles across her face. “I’m a romantic princess after all. Princess Cordelia!”
Gilbert knows this isn’t the girl’s name. Her parents had introduced her to them when they moved in. They live in Greengables up the road. Still he just smiles at her and nods. The mud is gone from all but her chin and eyebrows now.
“Do you want to be my prince?” He nods and is promptly rewarded with a muddy slap across the face. The girl tosses her hand to her head dramatically, raindrops taking the place of tears. “Oh, Prince Bernard! How could you?! I loved you!”
Gilbert balks at her. He doesn’t start crying because it didn’t really hurt, and he doesn’t hit her back because she’s a lady. Still, he’s a bit confused and so just stares at her. She responds by stepping fully into his space to whisper into his ear.
“This is the part where you chase me to win back my hand.”
The words slur. She’s missing her two front teeth and has a small lisp.
Gilbert nods and lets her get a head start. She dramatically flings herself across the dirt road, stumbling towards her own house in the distance. Gilbert gives chase.
They’re twelve years old and Gilbert’s not sure if Ms. Cuthbert likes him or not.
"Oh...hello, Gilbert. Please come in."
She always hesitates when talking to him, always looks at him a little too long when he’s around. He knows she knew his father when they were younger and wonders what type of tense relationship must they have had for it to carry through the generations like this. Still, she lets him in to see Anne whenever he wants, especially after she’s missed school for the last few days.
"I brought Anne's homework," he says quietly, and her face lightens into an amused smirk. He thinks maybe she wants to like him.
"Thank you, Gilbert," she says, closing the door behind him to keep the wind and chill out. It’s snowing. "I don't think she'll appreciate it, but we certainly do."
She doesn’t laugh and neither does Gilbert though he finds the comment a bit funny. Anne loves school and hates missing for any reason, but once she’s home, she’s home and doesn’t enjoy study sessions being forced upon her by their respective guardians. It’s Friday which means the weekend is starting and here comes Gilbert to walk her through the geometry lessons she had been lucky enough to sleep through the first time around.
"Is she in her room?"
“Yes, but…” The woman hesitates like she always done and Gilbert continues edging towards the stairs. They did this every time. “Maybe it’d be best to just leave them down here.”
Gilbert shakes his head as politely as he’s able.
“I want to bring it to her,” he says, hefting his extra heavy backpack higher on his shoulder. It's only another moment before she relents with a nod. She wants to like him.
"Alright, but try to stay some ways away, will you?"
Gilbert nods again, already moving up the stairs knowing he will do no such thing. Anne has her own gravitational pull on Gilbert. Her door is closed and he knocks even though she never does and doesn’t enter until a weak voice bids him to do so.
"I thought you were faking," he greets, eyeing the way the blankets are twisted and piled up around a small puff of red hair. The air in the room is stale and there’s a small mountain of tissues by the bed as he approaches.
“Shut up, Gilbert,” Anne sighs. She smiles, however weakly, as she pushes herself into a sitting position. She’s paler than ever and there are bags under her eyes. The tip of her nose is as red as her hair and her hair is in complete disarray. She looks a little crazy.
"I brought your homework." Gilbert lifts up the bag and Anne flings the covers over her head with a surprising amount of force for how frail she looks. The headboard smacks the wall roughly at her forceful movement and Gilbert flinches, not wanting the worrisome woman downstairs to think he had taken a running leap into the bed or something equally insane.
"I'm asleep. I've died. You can't find me."
"Anne—"
"Nope, no one here by that name, only Cordelia. Come back never."
" Anne. "
"I'm sick ," she whines, poking her head out from her hiding place looking absolutely miserable. Gilbert leans over the edge of her bed and starts to count her freckles as he tries to think of a way to trick her into working. She pouting up at him and he wants to just relent.
"I’ll let you copy my lab work next week."
Anne is immediately sitting up again, eyes bright if a bit hazy with cough medicine. She nearly smacks her forehead into his in her excitement.
"Really?! I love you! Sit, sit, sit!"
"But you’ve got to finish all of geometry on your own."
The smile is gone, replaced by a look of utter betrayal. Her dramatic gasp is interrupted by a harsh fit of coughing and Gilbert reaches out to rub her back, again hoping Ms. Cuthbert doesn’t assume he’s just riling her up to get sicker. When the phlegm is clear from her airway, she glares up at him pitifully.
" Why ?"
"Because we have a test in two days," Gilbert replies simply. She pouts harder. "Shove over."
And Anne does, grumbling all the while about how cruel Gilbert could be. They lay together under the stuffy blanket and he explains the homework page by page until she drifts off half way through their writing assignment, head tucked onto his shoulder. He finishes it for her.
Gilbert gets sick two days later and misses the test.
Anne is convinced he planned the whole thing.
They're fifteen and Gilbert feels all alone in front of a tombstone.
The landscape is cold and damp and too dreary to describe though he knows his writer of a father would have tried if he were still there and not six feet beneath him. People come and give their condolences and Anne is there for a fleeting moment before being ushered away by her mother who looks more distraught than Gilbert can reasonably explain.
Mary and Bash are there, their things already moved into the house since his dad took a turn for the worst and eventually they pry him away from the cold rock with his dad’s name on it. He crawls back at some time past midnight and Bash brings him home again.
The next day he’s sitting with the stone again when someone sits beside him.
It’s Anne and she fills the space to his right with a shaky silence before launching into a random fairytale of her own creation. After all these years she still mentions Princess Cordelia and her beloved Bernard and how they now have children who rule the kingdom and are much beloved though their youngest son, Spencer, is terribly jealous of his older brother who is to be the king.
She talks and talks and talks and talks and never seems to run out of words until the sky grows dark and the air grows frosty. Then she freezes over like a lonely blade of grass and just sits there beside him until Bash comes out to bring him home again. They both rise from the ground and Gilbert notices for the first time that Anne is holding his hand. Had been holding his hand all day.
Bash thanks her for looking out for him and starts to steer him away like a patient drugged beyond independent direction. Anne’s hand clings to him a little too long and he glances over his shoulder at her when she finally drops it. She’s crying. Big fat tears like diamonds roll down her cheeks and catch the moonlight.
“I love you, Gil.”
Gilbert goes home, but he comes back and listens to more of her story the next day.
They're eighteen, and Billy is staring down at Anne from beneath his graduation cap.
Their tiny school gym is full to bursting and yet everyone manages to give the two of them a wide berth for what they know she wants to say. They feign ignorance to create a pale mockery of privacy, but in truth everyone in their class has an ear tuned into the conversation even if they’re too polite to openly stare at them.
Gilbert can't look away.
It had only been a matter of time before something like this happened. Gilbert honestly felt it was a miracle it had taken this long. Anne is bright and warm and had grown into her unique looks a long time ago. She was considered one of the prettiest girls in school and had had a real shot at prom queen had she not harshly discouraged all who stated a desire to vote for her. So many of the people who had once teased her now circled her like they were cold, lonely planets and she was their sun. The center of their universe with her own gravitational pull over all of them. Meanwhile Gilbert...Gilbert was the moon; sticking around the sun if only to gleam a little of its glow but really just a clump of rock standing next to a star.
“Hey,” Anne greets, shuffling over. Her smile is smaller and faded , and Gilbert frowns at the sight of it. He knows her better than any of the other rocks in her solar system.
"You turned him down."
"Oh." Anne’s cheeks flush red and Gilbert wonders how Billy could have mussed up his chance to touch that face. She ducks her head. “God, did everyone know but me?”
She’s embarrassed and he understands why. Everyone did know but her. It had been painfully obvious since mid-year that Billy’s feelings towards Anne had changed. He’d started being nicer to her and offering to help her with school work and asking to eat lunch with her and Anne had allowed it all with the forgiving air of a saint. She was kind and compassionate and much more devoted to making others feel good than holding silly childhood grudges. Not to mention she had spent hours of their childhood waxing poetic about how she hoped to someday have someone dramatically confess their love for her. Now it had happened and she had turned the boy down? Gilbert was so confused.
"Why?"
Anne shrugs and starts ushering them out of the gym, following the bustling crowd of their classmates and keeping an out eye for their families. Whispers of the incident are already sweeping through the ranks and it won’t even be sundown before the whole town hears about it. It’s May and it’s hot, but Gilbert feels as if he’s got a full body chill rolling through him.
"I just told him the truth...I already have feelings for someone.”
Gilbert freezes in his steps. There’s the chill.
Anne notices—turning to face him as if she hadn't said anything out of the ordinary, but this is the first time Gilbert has heard of this . Anne doesn't keep secrets . Not from him. She can't. With the endless flow of words ever-coming from her mouth, it's a miracle she can breathe at all and yet...
"Who?" he asks, and the word drums through him as if it's his heartbeat. There’s sweat dripping down his back beneath his gown and dress shirt. He’s bracing himself as if he’s expecting a fist to drive full force into his stomach and maybe he is/
Anne stares at him for a moment longer, and then she smiles. They’re outside now and the sunlight catches her hair making it look like it’s on fire. He can see their guardians approaching just beyond her. More planets hurtling towards the sun.
"Please, Gil," she chides, slapping at his shoulder, "You know you're the love of my life."
They're twenty-three and Anne is drunk.
Gilbert isn't much better off, but he can at least stay stable and Anne is relying on that heavily at the moment. They make their way through the party as one entity, separating only on the frequent occasions when Anne has to use the bathroom, and even then, Gilbert stays propped against the door waiting for her each time she begs him to.
"Get off me," he says at last, already late into the night, though he makes no move to take his arms from around Anne’s waist. The girl only grins and buries her face into the crook of her friend’s neck, her hot breath making its way under his collar. She’s wearing a short, thin dress and so clings to Gilbert for warmth as much as stability. His mouth feels impossibly dry and the alcohol isn’t helping.
"Oh my god, get a room, guys," Diana breaks the moment, in nearly as bad shape as Anne. Her hair is mussed and lipstick a little smeared, trace amounts of it rimming the edge of her solo cup which she points at them in an accusatory fashion. Anne waves hers back drowsily
"Please, Diana," she laughs, though the sound is a little grating as she pushes off Gilbert. He reaches out for her again when she stumbles and folds her back into his arms. She doesn’t stray again; tucks her head neatly under his chin like it belongs there. "You and I both know Gilbert is way outta my league."
And they both laugh and laugh and laugh as if it's some hilarious joke, but Gilbert doesn’t quite get it. It's not funny and it's not true , and Gilbert Is half way to offended at the way Anne seems so ready to accept it. She’s practically falling over with giggles and each glance at his irritated face only seems to make her lose it more. She and Diana chatter more, the other girl discussing men who may be more within the redhead’s league and eventually Gilbert has to shoo her away to find her boyfriend. Anne is still cackling, clutching his arm. She looks a little crazy.
He doesn’t let her go for the rest of the night.
Not as they refill their cups several more times and not as Anne is taken over by a particular song coming out of the speakers. Not as they're walking back to Gilbert’s flat which he can afford to live in with money he gets from his dad’s insurance payout. Not even as he fumbles for his keys to the point where a now exhausted Anne reaches into his front pocket rather aggressively and digs them out for him. She says nothing at not being brought back to the tiny apartment she shares with Diana, so used to this routine after years and years.
"Excited to see me?" she slurs.
Still Gilbert doesn't pull away, and neither does Anne.
"Why are you always flirting with me?"
He means it as a joke, but it comes out rather terse and angry and honest. He just can’t take it anymore and he feels a little crazy himself as Anne finally pushes away from him, heading towards his bedroom. She throws her head back in a too loud laugh, but when she looks back at him all the noise gets sucked from the room.
"Because I'm in love with you," she says, pushing the door open with her back. She knows she’s going to be sleeping in there. With him. " Duh ."
"One of these days," Gilbert says, following several steps behind her, "I'm going to take that joke seriously."
Anne laughs again and Gilbert expects that, but then the vacuum is back and their out in space with whole galaxies between them and it’s far too quiet. Anne is standing beyond his doorframe now, face half cast in shadow.
"Yeah?" she prods, slipping completely out of sight. "Is that a promise?"
They're twenty-three and Gilbert’s in love.
He's hungover, tired, and hopelessly, endlessly in love. Has been since he was eight and she had the knobbiest knees he had ever seen. She’s laying by him, a woman now, not a girl, and he pretends to be asleep to enjoy the moment a little longer. She’s shifting about, waking up, and he feels the bed dip as she rolls over to look at him, hair fiery hair falling across his chest.
She’s quiet for once and the air is reminiscent of a hundred sleepovers from years past. A thousand memories spark between their fingertips as she reaches out and taps the inside of his palm. She whispers-
"I love you, Gil"
—Gilbert opens his eyes and grabs Anne’s hand before it can slip away. Her eyes are wide and she looks a little crazy and little angry because he tricked her, but...
"Gil-"
"I'm taking you seriously." His heart can't take it anymore. He's too tired from chasing a girl whose been dancing on the edge of his fingertips for nearly two decades. She’s right there and he finally wants to catch her; to fold her into his arms so she won’t stray again. Anne eases from where she’d been propped over him and now she’s laying on his chest and his arms are around her. She’s looking up at him with bright blue eyes.
"I love you,” she spits out honestly. She’s wearing one of his old school shirts. “And I know you don't feel the same and I know I’ve ruined any chance I ever had by turning this into a joke with you and I’m sorry , but-”
“Shut up.”
He eases the harshness of his words by pulling her into a kiss. He presses his lips to hers in loving, desperate kisses that try to express years of wanting and waiting and she’s kissing him back much the same. Her slim fingers card through his hair and he pulls her closer. A laugh bubbles up and out of her chest and Gil gobbles it up, not wanting to end the kiss. He pulls away only when the need to breathe becomes literally smothering. He looks back into her eyes.
“I love you too.”