Auld Lang Syne

by Brianna Faye

— 1876 —

Gilbert Blythe looked around the quaint parlor of the Green Gables homestead with an intrigued eye. It was the first time he'd been to the idyllic farm since she had first appeared in his life, a perfect thunderstorm of carrots and broken slates. He was not even sure if he was wanted here, but his parents had made him come, and the thirteen-year-old boy felt he had no choice but to accompany them.

"Well, well, John Blythe."

Gilbert heard the voice of Marilla Cuthbert—world-weary and worn by age—as she made her way over towards his father and mother. If he wasn't mistaken, she almost sounded...surprised...that his family had shown up. Had they not been expected?

"You know I could never pass up a good New Year's Eve celebration, Marilla," John Blythe answered cordially, although they were edging further away from Marilla, who did not seem sorry to let them go. Gilbert idly wondered what that whole interaction had been about, but when he caught a glimpse of fiery red locks, he decided to think of it later.

"Gilbert, sweetheart," his mother said, her own hazel eyes staring in to his, "why don't you go over there and play with the other children?"

Gilbert, although he loved his mother dearly, wanted to stomp his foot and protest, to tell her obstinately that he was not a child—he was thirteen, for goodness sakes. But instead he smiled slightly and nodded before ambling over to the area of the parlor where he saw Anne Shirley talking to Diana Barry, all the while being surrounded by Ruby Gillis and Jane Andrews.

He watched as Anne spoke—he was too far away to hear her words—followed by the tinkling laughter of the three girls around her. His ears pricked up; he desperately wondered what Anne had said. Was it something about him? She never seemed to have anything pleasant to say about him.

"Gilbert!"

Gilbert turned around upon hearing Charlie Sloane's voice call his name. Charlie was practically running up to him—and indoors, as well—his bottle-eyes excited. Gilbert rolled his eyes playfully as his comrade reached his side.

"Gil—Gilbert," Charlie began excitedly. So excited, however, that his breathing was heavy and his voice raw. "I heard once—a long time ago, you see—you see, that at midnight you're s'posed to kiss the girl closest to you! D'you think Anne would want to kiss me?"

It was a well-known fact around the Avonlea schoolchildren that Charlie Sloane mooned over Anne Shirley something awful, although the poor boy would never admit it. Gilbert had always suspected it, and he knew Anne did as well—yet she never spurned the advances of the youngest Sloane boy; an action that made Gil slightly jealous.

Quelling some of the envious sentiment boiling in his stomach, Gilbert merely replied, "You're ridiculous, Charlie."

Charlie let out a long, resigned sigh. "I s'pose we're awf'ly young to be thinking about this—besides, I bet if I tried, she'd break a slate over my head."

Gilbert's eyes immediately narrowed. He did not like to think about the day Anne had come into his life...the very day she had broken her slate over his head. Why, all he'd wanted was to talk to her!

"Aw, come on, Gil," complained Charlie. "Can't you take a little joke? And that was a good one."

"It wasn't very funny to me," Gil admitted, crossing his arms over his chest begrudgingly.

"Maybe just a little peck," Charlie continued, ignoring the words of his friend. "Y'know, I'd go in quickly...so quickly Anne wouldn't even notice...and I'd give her a kiss on the cheek and run away. What d'you think, Gil?"

"I think you're ridiculous, Charlie."

"Are you telling me that you wouldn't want to kiss Anne Shirley, Gilbert?" Charlie inquired earnestly, his eyes wider than usual. He'd had a sneaking suspicion that Gilbert had been dead gone on Anne ever since she had broken her slate over his head—perhaps even before that.

Gilbert's eyes grew as wide as possible, before he quickly caught himself and held his head high. "I most certainly would not," he told Charlie, and he imagined Anne would say the same thing if Diana or Jane or Ruby had asked her that very question.

Charlie didn't respond, but he knew, just by his companion's expression, that he had been right.

Gilbert Blythe was dead gone on Anne Shirley.

xXx

"Oh, Anne," Diana Barry exclaimed, stealing glances at the front door. "The Blythes just arrived. Aren't you going to greet them?"

"I see no reason why I should do any such thing, Diana," Anne replied coolly, her nose beginning to rise in the air. After a moment's silence, Anne turned to face Diana, as well as Ruby Gillis and Jane Andrews. "But I could break a slate over his head as a New Year's gift."

Her three companions laughed along with Anne, and out of the corner of her grey-green eyes, Anne spotted Gilbert Blythe turn his head in her direction. She pretended that she had not noticed him.

"Oh, I'm so glad Gilbert is here." Ruby sighed dreamily, clasping her hands in her lap. "He's the most handsome boy in school, and my sister told me that when the clock strikes twelve on New Year's Eve, you're supposed to receive a kiss from the nearest boy. I hope Gilbert is that boy for me."

"I would rather die a thousand deaths than receive a kiss from our dear Mr. Blythe," was Anne's reaction to Ruby's rather romantic tale.

"You're so cruel, Anne," Jane said, always the sensible one of the group. Anne wasn't surprised; one must be sensible with such an unromantic name as Jane. "Gilbert's a nice boy."

"Anyhow," continued Ruby, "when twelve o'clock nears, I'm going to find Gilbert and stand as close as I possibly can to him. He'll give me a kiss if I have anything to say about it."

"Have you ever thought that there's more to life than boys, Ruby?" Anne asked, truly curious.

Ruby giggled and shook her head. "If there's a life without boys then I want nothing to do with it. What a boring life that would be. Oh—oh, Gilbert's going into the kitchen. I'm going to follow him.

So, without another word, Anne, Diana, and Jane watched as their friend turned and retreated to the kitchen. Anne sighed and turned her head towards the window. The stars were twinkling seductively at the young girl, and she wondered if they would look any differently when the new year came.

"Hello, Anne," Charlie Sloane greeted, disrupting Anne's train of thought. "How are you?"

Anne managed a small smile; she didn't particularly mind Charlie, but she preferred to be alone. "Oh, hello, Charlie." Anne stood up, ready to make her getaway. "I'm going to go outside."

"Why?"

"It's almost midnight, and I want to see if 1877 looks any different from 1876."

Charlie gave Anne a confused look. He shouldn't have been surprised; people were always talking about the many queer thoughts that lived underneath the surface of that red hair. He watched, his expression unchanging, as Anne stood up and sauntered away from him, her slender frame slipping through the back door of Green Gables.

Anne found her place beneath the Snow Queen, which was bare. The stars twinkled above the branches and Anne wondered once more if they, too, would look any different with the coming of 1877.

Anne sat for an hour, staring up at the midnight sky, before someone came out. She was so lost in her daydreams that she barely noticed—a common occurrence for Anne. Inside, the guests of Green Gables were bustling with excitement, as twelve o'clock was merely a minute away. The adults congregated in the parlor, while the children assembled in the kitchen. Ruby Gillis, however, was all over the house, searching for a missing Gilbert Blythe.

Anne noticed none of this; she knew midnight was nigh, and her anticipation increased. How would the sky react to this sudden change in the world?

Even from outside, Anne could hear the adults counting down to midnight—they started at ten and made their way down to nine, eight, seven, six...

Anne felt a presence by her side but she dared not look, fearing that it might be the one person she least wanted to spend the New Year with.

Five, four, three...

Anne began breathing more quickly; the figure beside her had yet to move, and she wondered if she even wanted them to movie. What would they—he, as Anne had a sneaking suspicion of who it was—do when the clock struck twelve?

Two...one.

Anne felt a warmth on her cheeks, and the boy came closer, pressing his soft lips to Anne's cheek. Her entire face suddenly became as red as her hair, and she turned to face the perpetrator.

Her grey eyes clashed with hazel ones, as she was met with the handsomest face in the entire Avonlea school. She hoped she wore an expression of repulsion, but for some reason, Anne knew that her expression was one of shock, surprise.

"Happy New Year, Anne," Gilbert whispered, his boyish voice soft, as he gazed upon Anne's stunned face.

Gilbert chose to stand up then, while Anne remained in her place beneath the branches of the Snow Queen. She watched his silhouette disappear, her expression remaining the same, until she looked upon the stars.

They remained the same, but Anne could not help but feel that something inside of her had changed in the moments between 1876 and 1877.

xXx

Author's Note: Here's my first Anne/Gil fic in a long time...it's going to be multi-chaptered, each one centered around a different New Years in Anne and Gilbert's life. According to certain events throughout the Anne series, Anne would have been eleven in 1876, and that would have been her first year at Green Gables. So this is before the Christmas Ball, and after the slate-breaking. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!