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Unlikely Friendship

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"I never thought I'd admit it, but I actually miss the competition." Anne sighed as she slumped down onto her chair. "Oh, God, what has happened to me?"

Anne, Florence, and Ruby were seated together during lunchtime one day, and the first thing Anne said when she sat down with them that afternoon was unexpected, to say the least. While her house was rebuilding, Ruby was told to stay with the Cuthbert's, and although the girl didn't appreciate it at first, a very unlikely friendship was formed in those few weeks that none of the other girls had even thought possible.

"The competition?" Florence repeated. "What competition⸺"

"She's talking about Gilbert, obviously," Ruby cut in, the boy's name escaping her mouth with utter delight. She had an innocent crush on the Blythe boy, and she would never believe otherwise. "Anne and he are head-to-head in all academics."

The Robinson girl nodded slowly. It was true and she couldn't believe why she hadn't understood Anne earlier; she and Gilbert were always on track to beat each other one way or another when it came to their studies. Yes, Anne was a very intelligent girl, but Gilbert was just as bright. Suddenly, Florence realized that she hadn't seen the boy in a while; he'd been missing a lot of schools lately and she really hoped that he was okay.

She placed a gentle hand on the redhead's shoulder. "I'm sure he'll return and you two will be back to having each other's heads soon enough."

Anne chuckled, but before she could respond, Florence's name was called from the front of the classroom where Mr. Phillips was standing, holding a pile of books. "Robinson, come over here!"

The girl casually stood up as well and shrugged at her friends' questioning looks. Making her way over to the teacher's desk, she was caught surprised when he dumped the pile of books in her arms. She was lucky that none of them dropped, or she would probably be yelled at by him again. Mr. Phillips certainly lived up to his promise; he treated Florence no differently than any of the other students; constantly moody as he demanded his (unearned) respect. Still, Florence was sure that better than being the center of attention and the cause for confusion amongst the student body ⸺ was not being an outcast at all. At least nobody looked at her differently anymore; the novelty of a new student had clearly worn off.

"What's this?" she asked the older man and he sighed. These books were so heavy that she was positively sure that her arms would give out at any moment.

"It's for Gilbert Blythe," he said as if it was obvious. "Since he has not been attending school lately, I need you to send his books to his house."

"What happened to Gilbert anyway?"

"That's none of your concern, Miss Robinson."

And why can't someone else do it? Florence wanted to ask but stopped herself at the realization that the chances of her getting a weeks' detention were much higher than getting a direct answer. She definitely did not need that right now.

"Right, I will." She nodded and took her to leave.

Approaching the girls again, Ruby's eyes widened at the sight of the huge pile of books that Florence was struggling to hold. She hurriedly placed them on the nearest desk and breathed a sigh of relief. "I wouldn't be surprised if there are rocks hidden inside those books, seriously."

"Books?" Ruby raised her eyebrows and took a quick look at them splattered across the desk. "Whose are they?"

"Gilbert's."

"Really?" The youngest girl of the group hurried to open one of the notebooks up, smiling contentedly at the messy handwriting. "Even his writing is absolutely beautiful . . ."

"That's not creepy at all . . ." Florence muttered from under her breath and Anne hummed with contemplation.

"Why did Mr. Phillips hand you his books?"

"He wanted me to deliver them to him after school because he's been missing a lot of classes," Florence answered. "Want to join me?"

Anne crossed her arms immediately. "No, no . . . I'm still not over him calling me carrots!"

"I'm sure he's not over you smacking him with your slate either, but okay."

"Oh, oh! I'll go!" Ruby pitched in with a grin, her attention on the brunette. "I must make sure that he's doing well, and⸺"

"You're busy tonight, Ruby." Josie appeared by the girls momentarily. She didn't so much as glance at the others, her attention solely on her only friend amongst the group. "We have ballet lessons at my house, remember?"

"Oh, you're right." Ruby frowned slightly and then addressed Florence, "You better go alone then. Do say my sincerest hello to Gilbert for me."

"I will."

***

After what felt like an eternity and walking through the crunchy snow that surrounded the grounds of Avonlea that night, Florence finally reached the Blythe residence. She was still bearing books, as heavy as ever as she neared the main door and knocked on it swiftly.

A few minutes in and there was no answer. With the weather still being cold and her boots not sufficient enough to last in such deep snow, she decided to knock a little louder. "Gilbert! I'm here to drop off your books for you!"

Just when she contemplated leaving his books on the doorstep and writing a short note, the door finally opened. It wasn't who she was expecting that answered, however.

"I'm very sorry for making you wait," the man apologized, hunched over and looking very ⸺ well, ill for a lack of a better word. "Gilbert is out back chopping wood."

"Oh, that's no worry," Florence said and motioned to the heavy set of books in her hands. Could this be Gilbert's father? Either way, she took her chances. "These are your son's."

"Dad, what are you doing?" A familiar voice called worriedly from behind her. Florence watched as Gilbert appeared at the door, put the firewood down, and addressed his father, "You shouldn't be walking, you know this already."

"My son worries too much," Mr. Blythe commented with a chuckle. "Gilbert, this young lady is here to see you. It seems like she has some urgent business, so I'll just be going inside now."

"I'll go fetch you a chair," the younger boy reasoned but his father shook his head.

"No, I'll go on my own. Thank you, son." He then turned to Florence. "It was very nice meeting you."

"Likewise, Mr. Blythe," she said as he turned around and walked with difficulty further inside. Florence smiled, yet it came out weakly.

"Are those for me?" Gilbert started, turning his attention to the girl.

"Yes, Mr. Phillips wanted me to send you your books as you haven't been attending school lately."

"Oh, thank you."

He took the books from her waiting hands and held them with ease. There was something like sadness hiding behind Gilbert's eyes, but Florence couldn't pinpoint what it was. And then, the way he seemed so worried for his father ⸺ she assumed that it was only logical to think that he had been missing school to take care of the older man. And that wasn't something she could blame him for; Florence knew that if her parents were still alive ⸺ she'd do just about anything for them. She would do anything.

"Did you need something?" Florence's eyes shot up to see that Gilbert was now inside his home, and stopped by the door. He waited inquisitively and she struggled to come up with something.

"Um, no, I was just leaving." Turning around, she paused and glanced back to steal one last peek at him. Mustering up a small smile, she said, "Take care of yourselves, okay?"

This time, a shadow of a smile had appeared on Gilbert's face. He appreciated that she mentioned 'yourselves' apart from just him as many people would probably do. God knew how much more care his father needed instead of him. "Thank you, Florence. I'll see you around."

"See you too."