Gilbert Bylthe snickered quietly as Ruby Gillis fell back into her seat with a satisfying thump. Quick as lighting, Gilbert's hand unpinned her braid from the back of the bench, hastily bringing the pin back in his pocket as the class laughed. Looking around to see if anyone (particularly Mr. Phillips) guessed it was he that had pulled the cruel prank, Gilbert's eyes caught fierce, disapproving gray ones. They belonged to Anne Shirley…the new girl…with hair red like carrots. She was sort of pretty, in her own way. She glared at him for a moment, and then turned her head to gaze out the window. Slightly irked of being ignored and dismissed from her notice in such a fashion, Gilbert decided it was high time to find out exactly who this Anne-girl was.

Gilbert teared a tiny piece of paper from his workbook. Crumpling it into a ball, he aimed and threw the missile. The paper hit Anne's ear, and Gilbert, ever eagle-eyed, saw that she flinched, if only the tiniest fraction, but continued to stare at the window as she dreamed up a new reality. Gilbert decided another try was worth it, but alas, the second reaction was even less animated than the first one. Frustrated, Gilbert searched for another tactic, his eyes quickly scanning possible tools or ideas, until they rested on her hair.

Smiling a small, but terrible wicked smile, Gilbert leaned forward, closer to Anne. "Hey Carrots." He whispered, and a chorus of only partially stifled giggles followed. "Carrots." Gilbert repeated, making sure his voice was not so loud that Mr. Phillips would hear. Anne's eyes darted toward him, glaring at Gilbert in the corner of her eye, but she would not give him the satisfaction of turning her head to look at him. Frustrated, Gilbert played a bold move; his arm darted out, and like a swipe of a cat's paw, he yanked hard on one of the red, red braids.

That was the breaking point. Anne swept up out of her seat, eyes a-fire with anger. "You mean, hateful boy!" She accused, and her big, gray eyes widen with indignation. "And—Carrots!" Anne exclaimed, and before Gilbert could bat an eyelid, a sharp, searing pain entered his head, and he couldn't help but squeeze his eyes shut to ease the sting. When he finally dared to open his eyes, he saw Anne, her eyes not widened with indignation, but shock. In her hands was a slate…a cracked slate. She had hit him over the head with a slate!

And soon enough, Mr. Phillips came bounding over to Gilbert's desk, grabbing Anne by the wrist, lecturing her as he dragged her to the front of the room. Gilbert vaguely remembered protesting that it was not Anne's fault, but it came out rather feebly as Gilbert's head was still smarting quite a bit. "Ann Shirley," Mr. Phillips said as he wrote, "has a very bad temper." He turned to look at Anne severely. "And she will learn to control this temper. You will write this one hundred times before you leave today." With one last sweeping glare of the classroom, Mr. Phillips returned to the back to work with his Queens student.

Guilt washed through Gilbert as he watched Anne stand up there for a second or two, still in pure astonishment of the situation. He hadn't meant to get her in trouble. He really hadn't. Gilbert just wanted to Anne's attention…to talk to her. Lowering his head in silent shame, Gilbert happened to glance up at the board one last time as Anne, with an elegant sweep in her hand, added an 'e' to her name.

And he smiled.

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This is one of the classic scenes in the first book, so I decided I'd do it from Gilbert's POV. You can tell he likes her even this early in the series. )

Reveiws are VERY appreciated. Constructive critcism, compliments, but please...NO FLAMES.

Becca