𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝟏

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The colored hair girl taps her nails on the graffitied desk one at a time.

Each nail creating an another annoyance to form in her certain desk partner.


She rolls her eyes at the thought.
I can't believe I'm in here with all these delinquents.

"I got out of Juvenile Detention 2 months ago."

"Wait- What?!"

"Relax, I'm joking, but seriously you stare at me like I already did a crime."

His sharp tone paused sending vibrations down her spine. He jerked his head back.

"Who wants to be here?" He chuckles, seeming as if his voice bounced off the walls.

"There's no ac, the walls are practically molding, the floors probably haven't been mopped in years, the desks are filled with crap and gum."

"It's a shit hole."

She looks up.


It's Gilbert Blythe.

She looks back down and starts tracing the initials on the desk.


Gilbert Blythe.

She kept her eyes glued to the desk.


Crap why did I have to stutter?

He rolls his eyes indicating he was done talking to her.

Every few seconds without him noticing she would look up at him and take it in.

Not that she was weird or creepy or all of the above.

She just liked to admire things.

Anything and everything.

A butterfly clip, the way the daises flowed in the wind, or the curly haired boy next to her.

Like always,
she held her arms to chest and squirmed in her seat when she felt distance, uncomfortable.

And these,
were one of those times.

"Why are you here anyways? You don't seem.....
Like the type who be here.
Most people who come here are regulars. Unlike.."

He looks Anne up and down.


Again his sharp tone says as he pulls out something from his bag.

His tone was sharp enough to cut blood and skin, among other things...

"Well I yelled in the library, because I was looking for my-"

Her voice, stopping.
As if she was driving on a busy high way, then stoped because of what she saw.

Her book.

"Your what?"
He says as he turns a page of Little Women. Surprising not bending any corners.

"Give me back my book." Her voice escalating, eliminating any trembles.


"What are you-"

Anne yanks the book out of Gilbert's hand and smacks him across the face with it.

Her mind stops.

more than before.

I just hit
Gilbert Blythe.


𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐫Where stories live. Discover now