"They want me to marry."
"What's so bad about that?"
"And you're supposed to be bright, Gilbert?"
彡
In which a damsel wishes to save herself from her own distress, the 'prince'.
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"Frankie just let it go. Look, Gilbert's moved on." Heather says, face still buried in a book. It was already the day after and they were sat under their tree. The leaves were beautifully green, glowing under the rays of the sun.
The boy looks over to the other boy, who was walking around with the now taller Moody. He was laughing and watching the other kids pick on each other.
Frankie sighs and turns to Heather with a groan. She mocks his groan and turn to face him. She looked better than yesterday but still tired. "You didn't tell him the same thing you told me." Frankie retorts, making her frustratingly brush her fingers through her hair.
"I thought we all agreed that we'll pretend that last week never happened?"
"Yesterday doesn't count as last week."
She scoffs in disbelief, earning a smug smile from the boy. "Are we really doing this, Frankie? I don't want to argue with you anymore." She replies, attempting to divert the conversation. She frowns, giving him sad eyes.
The boy looks away from her gaze, breaking. They were both aware that he wouldn't be able to go against her when she looks at him like so. Heather smiles proudly but lost interest in reading her book. Perhaps, it was enough for today.
She looks around them, spotting Gilbert — with Anne Shirley. She sighs and winces her eyes as if it would her see closer. "He has a strange way of expressing himself."
"You're one to speak—Ow!" She punches Frankie's arm at the that comment. "Boys are stupid." She states, earning a forced gasp from the boy. "You like the girl but you pick on her instead? Why not just tell her-"
"Because we might end up getting hurt." Frankie jokes, referring his own "hardships". The girl shakes her head, keeping her gaze on the pair at the bottom of the hill. She tries and read their expression since they can't really hear them.
"So you think Gilbert likes Anne?"
Heather turns her head so fast, life flashing before her eyes while she tried recalling what she's said for the past minutes. She couldn't come up with anything as of the moment to cover her tracks so instead, she shrugs. "Maybe."
"I don't care. Does it matter? I don't think so. Does it bother you? It doesn't bother me. They actually-"
She pauses, feeling his index against her forehead. She mentally thanks the boy and zips her lips. Heather grabs her previously tossed aside book and pretend to read it, hoping her interest would perk up once more.
It doesn't.
"What are you reading anyway? Is it that good of a book you're not even going to eat? The muffins were great."
She looks at him and hesitated to reply. She didn't like lying to him but she hated it more hurting him with things she says and does. "Do you not see the cover? The title is printed on it in huge bold capital letters." She kids but only earns a suspicious look.
"I don't fit in these picnic dress mother bought—"
"She told you to stop eating?" His eyebrows creases, eyes screaming differently. "No, no, no!" Heather gasps, waving her hands in the air frantically to sign emphasize it more. Frankie looks at her in disbelief, making her sigh.
"Not directly." She whispered, wishing she didn't say it and that Frankie wouldn't even hear. His body tenses and he forces this smile, noticing the scared look on Heather's face. He didn't want her to worry.
"What did Aunt Cecile say?" He asks, bitterness lingering in every word. The girl scratches the back of her neck, warily looking at the boy. She should've just lied. He would be able to tell that she was lying but maybe that road ended up in a different direction.
"Well...she said it'd be nice if I wore that dress..." and that people wouldn't focus on how disgraceful I am.
"You don't have to wear the dress if you don't want to. You're fine just the way you are. I like the way you dress. You can wear slacks for all I care—"
Heather grabs his hand and began pulling on him. "Let's go. I have to go. I can't be late." She mutters but in reality, from the side of her eyes she can see Gilbert Blythe walking up the hill with Anne Shirley.
The peace treaty smelled all the way up hill but Frankie was too oblivious of that. "I can't deal with another talking down, Frankie. C'mon." she lies - well it was partly truth.
The boy nods and ran down the hill with the girl. While she was stuck in rush and worry, he watches her hair flow in the wind. He was too stuck in a daze to realize the smile she had on was forced.
Gilbert licks his bottom lip and sighs in defeat. He watches the brunette run towards the school with Frankie by her side. "Next time?"
