Chapter 18

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The Lasting Effect

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That afternoon, Florence stepped onto the front steps of Gilbert's home. She reached her hand over to knock and waited patiently. Several seconds later and there was no response. The girl peeked through the window which was beside the door and was surprised at how empty the house looked; much more than when she came here last time on the day of the funeral. Assuming that he wasn't home right now, Florence shrugged and made her way back home.

Her feet were buried deep in snow as she struggled to walk the way home. When Florence had returned from school that day, her grandmother had told the girl to check up on Gilbert and see how he was doing after his father's passing. The girl wasn't keen on the idea, especially since the two kids hadn't spoken to each other in a while. While Gilbert was mainly just seeking work all these days, Florence had assumed the worst and felt that he was instead very upset with her regarding her unintentional words at the funeral.

The Avonlea cemetery was not too far from Florence's house. Whenever she was returning from Church or Blythe's residence, she would come across the place. Her dark gaze manoeuvred over the land before she spotted a familiar plaid coat in the distance, accompanied by some raven hair. She paused in her steps as she recognized the person as Gilbert Blythe.

Quietly, she made her way over to the boy who was currently crouched down in front of ⸺ his father's gravestone. Hesitantly, she started, "Gilbert?"

As if on cue, the boy turned around and upon seeing the familiar face, he stood up properly and brushed off his corduroy trousers. "Oh, hi, Florence."

"Are you here to visit Mr Blythe?" she asked as he approached her.

"Yes, I was just leaving, actually," he explained, stopping across from her. "I try to come here every week."

Florence nodded, rubbing her arms nervously. She wasn't sure where to begin her next sentence, or if it was even okay to do so. They both used to talk to each other every day before the unfortunate passing, and since it had been quite a few days since they last spoke (mainly due to how their last conversation ended), she was suddenly at a loss for words.

Thankfully, Gilbert was the first to speak. "I was on my way back. Would you like to join me?"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude⸺"

"It's no problem, really."

"Alright."

As the two teenagers walked in the direction of Gilbert's home, the brunette couldn't help but look at the boy as he walked in step beside her. He had his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers and his hair was still a dark mess like always. There was something nagging her at the back of her throat wanting her to ask him if he was doing better, but she wasn't sure if it was the right choice of words. For all she knew, he would respond with something witty like, 'My father just died, how do you expect me to be better already?'

So, she decided against it.

"It's been a while since we've spent time together," she finally said, pulling at the hem of her forest green dress. He nodded his head, his gaze meeting hers for a brief moment.

"It has," he agreed, the snow crunching from underneath their feet. She glanced at him now and then curiously, but he didn't seem to notice. One time he did, causing her to quickly avert her eyes to the view ahead of her. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, contemplating something. Decidedly, he asked, "Where were you yesterday?"

Florence furrowed her brows as she stopped in her step, and he did the same. Before she could wonder what he exactly meant, he added, "The girls; Ruby, Anne, and Diana came over to my house yesterday to give me some shepherd's pie. I assumed that you would come too . . . um, only because they're your friends."

Florence wondered whether she should reveal the truth behind her absence yesterday. Truthfully, she had been invited by Anne to send some pie over to the Blythe boy, but she made up an excuse and declined the offer purely due to her belief that Gilbert was upset with her and would absolutely dislike her presence. Either that or everything would turn out awkwardly. So, instead, she'd packed her favourite book and went to the Secret Sanctuary. It was worth it at the end of the day since she met a lovely soul called Josephine.

"I was . . . busy," she explained unsurely. "I was completing my homework and couldn't join the others."

"You're lying," he blatantly said.

"I am not," she responded a little too quickly. "What makes you think that I would be lying?"

"Because according to the girls, you weren't feeling well yesterday."

Darn it! She knew that she shouldn't have made up that terrible excuse. There were so many more believable things that she could have said instead. Florence stammered, opening and closing her mouth as she wondered how to back up her obvious half-assed lie. It didn't help that Gilbert didn't look in the slightest convinced either, staring at her suspiciously as if waiting for her response.

An excuse popped up in Florence's mind as she took a deep breath and returned her heartbeat back to normal. "Just a minor headache, nothing too bad. I completed my homework after feeling better."

He stared at her for a moment but ultimately nodded his head with understanding. It was only then when Florence noticed the adhesive bandage on the side of his forehead. She furrowed her brows, remembering that Billy Andrews had a similar injury.

"What happened there?" She pointed to his forehead.

"Nothing." He turned to continue walking, but she wasn't convinced.

"Gilbert . . ." she quietly said and the boy sighed.

"Yes?"

"I'm serious."

"It's nothing too bad, Flo." It was that same nickname that he and the others had used a thousand times before. It sounded nicer coming from his mouth, but she'd never tell him that. "Just some foul play."

He'd continued walking and she joined him but still wore confusion on her face.

Florence felt like there was something that Gilbert wasn't revealing, but didn't make much of it. She didn't really see a need to interrogate him as that would think her a hypocrite since she didn't exactly tell him the truth behind her absence yesterday either. So, she left the subject at that when Gilbert began conversation again.

"I'm planning on leaving Avonlea."

That, she wasn't expecting. Out of all the things that Gilbert could have possibly said, this wasn't expected to be one of them. Stopping in her tracks, Florence glanced at him. "For how long?"

"I don't really know," he confessed.

Florence attempted to say something but it only came out in stutters. There was an unusual feeling in her chest, but she duly ignored it. Gilbert eventually noticed the girl not beside him anymore and stopped, glancing back curiously to see her far behind. She quickly made up an excuse about needing to prepare for dinner arrangements, turned in her heels and strutted in the opposite direction. 

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