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Changing The Champion

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It had been nearly two weeks since Billy Andrews had begun to tease Florence Robinson like every other girl at the school ⸺ with the exception of his sisters. Billy would tease her about her books, he would find excuses to pull her hair, and he would say nasty things about her to his friends that they both knew weren't true. Sure, Florence had a few things to say back to him every now and then, but now it was just getting intolerable. The boy didn't give it a break.

Florence could only wonder about his sudden change of heart, and what caused him to act this way towards her. A few weeks ago ⸺ when they'd met in the dawn of night and he'd been a gentleman to drop her home ⸺ she was really under the impression that he had a difference in him. It certainly lasted this way for a few days ⸺ and suddenly, everything was gone, poofed into thin air, making the Robinson girl believe that it was never really there, to begin with.

As Florence sat in class disoriented, she wondered if it was because she didn't really talk with him anymore, or if it was because of his friends, his family, or maybe it was simply because he got bored of her and found pleasure in tormenting others. That very thought put Florence on edge; she thought about it all of the time. No matter how much Billy would tease or however hurtful his words were ⸺ she never let tears fall down her face because she didn't want him to find another thing to mock her about.

Their class was currently about to take part in a spelling bee that they did almost every week; this was where one of Florence's academic expertise lay. She listened carefully as Mr Phillips spoke, "We will now begin the spelling bee. Raise your hand if you would like to participate."

Anne's hand was the first of many to shoot up, she was already eager and ready to begin. After debating with herself, Florence raised her hand as well.

The six electives stood at the front of the classroom, those being: Florence, Anne, Gilbert, Charlie, Moody and Amy.

"Shall we begin?" Mr Phillips began as he looked up from the dictionary in his hand, the students nodding a moment later.

The first one up was Amy, and she was given the word: Curriculum.

"C-U-R-R-I-C-U-L-U-M."

The class clapped after she spelt it correctly.

Charlie went up to the board and was instructed, "Spell the word luxury."

"L-U-X-U-R-Y"

"N-O-T-I-C-E-A-B-L-E"

"T-Y-R-A-N-N-Y"

"A-S-C-E-N-D"

"F-A-L-L-A-C-Y"

It was only around the fourth round where students were beginning to get called out and eliminated. Moody was the first to get caught after misspelling the word 'rhythmic.'

Mr Phillips ⸺ the ever-so unjust being ⸺ smirked at the boy, almost as if was happy that he lost ⸺ and delivered the next word: ambience.

Charlie thought about it for a moment. His hands were shaking and his cheeks were scarlet from the possible embarrassment of being eliminated next. With hesitancy, he stammered out, "A-M-B-E-A-N-C-E"

"No, sit back down!"

Next, it was Amy who was caught out on the word 'predicament.' Then, there were only three students remaining at the front. Florence had to admit, Anne and Gilbert were already at a constant academic battle with each other ⸺ so it was highly unlikely that she would make it to the top. Even then, it would be nice to be the winner for once.

"Robinson." Mr Phillips' voice brought her from her bombarding thoughts. "Spell extraordinary."

How wonderful, she thought to herself. Luck was definitely not on her side. She'd been trying, again and again, to spell this exact word before, so why was her mind suddenly blank? Has all her time of memorization just gone out the window? Shutting her eyes, she tried to remember what she'd been tirelessly studying for the last few days. Suddenly, a spark of light connected to her mind and she opened them again more confidently.

"E-X-T-R-A-O-R-D-I-N-A-R-Y."

"That seems correct . . ." the teacher said with boredom.

Florence grinned and patted herself on the back, but stopped when she heard chuckles coming from the seats. Billy and his dumb friends were laughing at her. She rolled her eyes, huffing at their immature behaviour. She offered a small smile to Prissy at the back of the classroom who gave the girl a thumbs up.

"Callous," the teacher called out.

Gilbert pondered for a moment before spelling the word correctly, resulting in everyone cheering once more. Florence couldn't help but wonder how long this would take. At this rate, lunchtime would come around but the spelling bee would still be in session.

Not too long after, it was Gilbert's turn yet again. Much to Florence's surprise ⸺ then not again, because Anne was bound to win ⸺ he spelt a word incorrectly, being proclaimed as incorrect as he sat down. He still had a smile on his face ⸺ the look of a good sport.

It was then Anne's turn, and whatever came next had surprised not just her ⸺ but everyone else in the class too. She'd actually spelt something incorrectly, which meant . . . Florence had won the spelling bee. The brunette didn't have enough time to register the sight before her; Anne and the rest of the class (apart from those looney rich boys) were cheering for her win.

And all she could do was watch.

***

When school was dismissed for the day, Anne had taken it upon herself to personally congratulate the girl on her first win for the spelling bee. She knew that Florence had hidden talent somewhere ⸺ and today, she was able to prove that she was much more than the quiet girl who, on occasion, made snarky remarks to everyone she disliked.

"You know, under normal circumstances, the winner would be treating everyone else," Florence said as the two girls walked through the woods later that day. They'd been walking for a while now ⸺ and her house was just around the corner making it an easy escape had she been so cruel, which she was not ⸺ and she wondered just what the red-head had in store for her.

"Well, these aren't normal circumstances, are they?" Anne responded, feet buried in deep snow. Avonlea had been 'graced' by the beautiful sight just the night before, but Florence had just enough of it back when she was still living in Alberta.

"Oh? What kind of circumstances are they then?"

"You'll see . . ."

"And we're back to the anonymous and mysterious Anne," Florence commented under her breath. She wrapped her scarf around her neck slightly tighter, not paying much attention to the sight growing closer to them. Not until her friend had called her name, insisting that the girl look up from the ground and see what was before them.

Nothing could have prepared Florence for what she saw before her. A small, yet homely fortress was crafted delicately under one of the largest trees in the woods. The fortress nested in a combination of grass and snow as if it were conjuring some happy dreams. Her gaze fell on the red-head beside her, something akin to wandering in her eyes. Thousands of questions bombarded her mind: how did you find this place? Did you build it yourself? Does anyone else know? But none of them were answered as all she saw was Anne as she motioned Florence over to the inside, and Florence wondered if the interior was as remarkable as the exterior.

Undoubtedly, this would be a place that she'd be able to call her second home.