Diana's POV
"Anne! You're on the board! Charlie 'noticed you'!" I exclaim.
Anne takes my hand and leads me to to classroom, but we get stopped.
"Good morning, Anne." Charlies says.
"Busy. Sorry." Anne exclaim as we turn and keep walking through the classroom. But we get stopped again.
"So, Anne, are you gonna dance with Charlie tomorrow?" Josie asks, with the rest of the girls gathered behind her.
"Am I what?" Anne asks, still shocked.
"Miss Stacy scheduled practice for the county-fair barn dance." Ruby explains. "For all of us."
"Boys and girls." Tillie adds from behind them.
"That means... touching." Ruby gasps.
We sit down, but they're still behind us.
"I'm going to hate dancing with these silly boys." Josie continues. "I'll only be dancing with my intended at the fair. Sorry, y/n."
"No Josie, I'm sorry." Y/n states as she takes her seat in front of me and Anne. Anne laughs a bit but I nudge her to stop.
"Yes, enjoy Josie. Billy has two left feet and they both smell awful." Jane laughs.
Y/n's POV
The next day we actually have to dance.
Miss Stacy has us pack up all the desks and stand in a semicircle, boy clustered on one side and girls the other, Gilbert and I stood next to each other in the middle.
"As promised, today we'll be practicing for the county-fair barn dance." Miss Stacy begins. "Mr and Mrs Lynde have kindly consented to help us in this endeavour."
The door opens and a young man walks in, slightly awkwardly.
"Ah, since the Dashing White Sergeant needs a set of six, I thought we'd better do so." Explains Mrs Lynde before introducing her son.
"Thank you, all for coming to help. Shall we?" Miss Stacy says, after greeting the younger Mr Lynde.
"We shall!" Mrs Lynde exclaims. "Pay particular attention to the patterns. Ready?"
"Ready when you are Mrs Lynde." Mr Lynde says, which gets a response of giggles from the girls.
"Please clap out the rhythm." Mrs Lynde requests and we do so. "And eight steps round." And the dance begins. She talks through the rest of the dance, which looks very uncomfortable for Miss Stacy.
"Why don't we have you give it a try? Please form your sets of six. Boy-girl, boy and girl, boy-girl, boys and girls." Miss Stacy instructs.
I stand facing Gilbert, Anne is next to him.
Everyone messed up somehow, which frustrated Mrs Lynde.
"Stop, stop, stop! That was... a start. Yeah that's... take a little break." She says.
Ruby runs off to the corner and Anne drags me along with all the other girls to check on her.
"What's the matter, Ruby?" Diana asks.
"Are you feeling faint again?" Anne asks too.
"She's shaking." Janes observes
"You can tell us." Josie adds.
"I... what if I'm pregnant?!" Ruby exclaims.
"Oh Lord." I sigh.
"My mother said if I so much as go near a boy, I might get pregnant, and if a boy touches me, then I'll certainly get pregnant!" Ruby adds. "So I must be. You all could be!"
"How could this be?!" Anne exclaims.
"But who's the father?" Tillie gasps, looking at her hands.
"None of you are pregnant." I try to explain.
"How could you let this happen?!" Josie asks, turning to Miss Stacy.
"Girls, girls, please calm yourselves. I can assure you no one will become pregnant from dancing." Miss Stacy explains.
"But there was so much touching!" Ruby cries.
"That's not how it works. It's not... uh... topical." Miss Stacy adds, and I have to keep myself from laughing. "There are many steps to conceiving. First, courtship. Then, of course, marriage. Then you and your husband... may... will, with your consent, go down... that cherished path to parenthood. Together. Is that clear? Good."
"I'm afraid to dance." Ruby says.
"You don't have to. You may sit this out if you wish." Miss Stacy says before walking away hurriedly.
"Well, there you go. Can't get pregnant from dancing." I slight laugh before walking away.
Moody starts to play the banjo and we begin to dance again, in the same positions.
YOU ARE READING
Does love matter? Gilbert Bylthe x reader
FanfictionY/n y/l/n came from a very posh family, from a young age she was taught to dress well and speak only when spoken to. Her sole purpose was to marry well. Gilbert Blythe on the other hand was raised only by his dad in ill health, which taught him kind...
