FicWad

It was a night in July when I plopped down onto my bed. I had gone to a party; the socialization was fun but, boy, was it tiring after a while. And a certain somebody had surprised me: Gilbert Blythe. When I ranted to him about how much talk about tires from Charlie Sloane one could take, he responded perceptively and understandingly. I stood up and peered out my window and into Gilbert's. A perk of being his next-door-neighbor was that I could be nosy at any time I so wanted. As if he could read my mind, I received a text.

Gilbert: Hey, Shirley. Sorry about your extroverted social battery's draining tonight. How are you doing?

I smiled without realizing I was doing so. My heart fluttered. Wait, what? I /didn't/ like him romantically. Right?

I replied, I'm ok. Thanks for asking. You looked not totally horrible tonight.

Gilbert: Oh, yeah?

Don't get a big head.

My pool's really warm right now. It's nice.

Ok, freaking Bruno Mars.

I'm serious. The stars are out, too. They're almost as beautiful as a certain redheaded girl I know.

Are you inviting me to a night swim?

Don't be ridiculous. I'm inviting you to a night swim, and afterwards we'll eat smores and watch the stars and that whole romantic shebang. Duh.

I'll be there soon.

I was giddy for no reason at all. I undressed and put on my swimsuit. It was a one-piece, since Marilla wouldn't be caught dead letting her sixteen-year-old daughter wearing anything immodest. I grabbed my NASA T-shirt and pink shorts and rolled them up into a ball. I curled the ball of clothing under my armpit and tiptoed past Marilla's room (Phew!), down the stairs, and escaped out the back door. I climbed over the fence to Gilbert's house. It was not so elegant.

When the curly-haired boy spotted me, he asked, "What's with the balled-up clothing?"

We were now in his backyard. The moonlight illuminated his face and did weird things to my quickly beating heart. And he was shirtless. And he was going to be shirtless with wet hair in a moment. When did he get so strong? He was a scrawny, lanky boy a few years ago. Now he looked like he could bench press me and Diana both simultaneously. The words got caught in my throat.

"Change of clothes. We're gonna be swimming, so..."

"What an astute observation," Gilbert teased, a smirk on his lips that looked very kissable at the moment.

"Don't be a jerk," I replied, narrowing my eyes.

I ascended the pool ladder, and he held the bottom of the ladder for me so I wouldn't fall. I hoped he couldn't hear the sound of my heart's hammering in my chest because it was ringing in my ears.

I wasted no time. I immediately swam underwater, skimming the bottom. I came above the surface and breathed in, flipping my hair out of my face. Gilbert had to be a show-off (a very handsome show-off) and dive off the ladder. When he was able to hear me, I said, "That's dangerous, you know. It directly tells you not to do that on every pool manual."

I made the mistake of looking at him. Crap. My cheeks heated up at the sight of a muscular, shirtless Gilbert Blythe under the moonlight, with his hair wet, his jaw clenched, his hazel eyes fixed on me. Oh, lord. I felt like I was going to die with how many butterflies were swarming around in my stomach.

"Danger is my middle name, Anne," he breathed, his voice gravelly. It almost sounded like he was going mad with desire from the tone of his deep voice. I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

"If /danger/ means John..." I muttered. He was never like this. When had the roles reversed? I was usually the bold, adventurous one and he was the cautious guy telling me things weren't safe. Maybe I was being a know-it-all so my feelings, whatever they are, wouldn't come up. And perhaps he was trying to impress me.

As bizarre as it sounds, apparently, we went underwater at the same time, because when we rose out of the water, our faces where a miniscule amount apart. I was going insane. I was so close to him; I could see every little etch and groove of his tan skin. I had this uncontrollable, insurmountable urge to kiss him all of a sudden as our eyes roamed over each other's faces. It didn't help that he just let this moment happen, either. His head was tilted, and the world was quiet as our little interaction continued.

"It doesn't make sense," he mumbled at last, his voice hoarse and soothing, "how you always ramble about the stars and how you love them so much, but you hate your freckles. The way I see it, your freckles are constellations in the galaxy of Anne. I love your freckles. They suit your face so well, like perfect details sprinkled across your face, dancing."

My breath hitched. Where did this come from? I couldn't resist it; I grabbed his face with my hands on each side and I kissed him. His hands found my waist beneath the realm of dryness, and he pulled me closer to him. Then he did something wild. He pulled away for a bit, allowing us to catch our breath, then he pulled me underwater and kissed me again. It was rapturous, enchanting, delightful, every positive word I could think of, even though we both got water in our mouths. Even though Percy Jackson may say otherwise, /this /was the best underwater kiss of all time. I came up for air and laughed, spitting the water out of my mouth. Shortly after, his head poked up as well.

"What were you thinking?" I tried to scold Gilbert, but the wide, goofy smile on my face was a dead giveaway that I was exhilarated and loved every second of it.

He breathed heavily, a chaotic grin plastered on his face. "I was thinking you looked beautiful, and I wanted so badly to kiss you. And then an idea came to my mind..."

I chuckled and shook my head, thrilled. I swooped underwater and glided along the bed of the pool. I was so happy that I wanted to do a flash mob underwater to "Uptown Girl." I wondered if he cared this much or if I was just another girl he kissed.

We said nothing else about the kiss or us during our time in the pool. When we got out, he rushed inside to get me a towel.

"Why didn't you get one for yourself?" I had questioned, wrapping the towel around my shoulders. The warmth of the pool was a huge contrast to the chill of the outside.

"This is the last clean towel," Gilbert responded, shrugging like it was no big deal. But chivalry meant everything to me.

I smiled gratefully and we sat down in fold-up lawn chairs in front of his fireplace. He had marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate bars laid out on a tray, along with marshmallow roasting sticks.

I turned my head up, admiring the lovely heavenly bodies scattered across the blank canvass of the dark, wide landscape that was the sky. I felt Gilbert's gaze on me, so I hesitantly looked at him, returning his stare. "What's up?"

"Nothing. I guess you could say that, while you were studying the sky, we were both observing pretty sights." He flashed me a genuine smile, the kind that reached his eyes and crinkled the skin around them. I felt my heart swell.

"Oh," was the pathetic monosyllable I squeaked out. "I- I..."

His smile remained on his face, even as his eyes left me. I shoved a marshmallow on one of the stick thingies—they really need a name—and extended it out to the fire. His eyes widened as my marshmallow turned black. I rolled my eyes and made my smore. "I like my marshmallows crispy," I defended as I took a massive bite of my smore. "Have you ever tried them extra roasted like that?"

He shook his head. "I can't say that I have."

I scoffed with my mouth full and made a smore the best way for him. "Here," I said as I handed him humankind's best invention.

I saw him consume heaven in the form of marshmallow, chocolate, and graham cracker. "You were right," Gilbert said as he swallowed his first bite. "This is the superior way to do it."

"Let me see your phone," I said, holding my hand out.

Gilbert furrowed his eyebrows, but still handed me his phone. "The passcode is 002663."

I typed in his passcode and opened Spotify. I searched in my username in the search bar and played a playlist I created. The first song that came on was "False God" by Taylor Swift, which I blushed at and immediately skipped; the next song was also by Taylor Swift—"Dress." Was the universe trying to send me a sign? Those were the only... spicy songs on my playlist.

"What are you doing?" Gilbert asked.

"I was trying to play my playlist but freaking promiscuous Taylor Swift songs keep playing!"

"Taylor Swift has sex songs?" he queried, apparently totally oblivious to the meanings of songs like "Guilty As Sin." "I wanna hear."

I snickered and let "Dress" play.

"So, with whom are you going to prom?" he nonchalantly brought up. I almost choked on my spit.

"Uh, Roy and Charlie have asked me, but... I don't know. If this one guy would just get over himself and actually ask me to go to prom with him instead of hinting to it and subtly giving me clues that he wants to go with me, I'd go with him." Please, Gilbert, ask me to prom with you!

He quirked his head, a wistful look about him. He stood up and walked over to me, holding his hand out. I took it. Then he said something that made my heart, stop, drop, flip, and flutter—in that order. "I love you, Anne. I have loved you since I heard you recite that poem the day we met in school. It would be my life's dream... to take you to prom."

As he held my hand and confessed that he loved me, I realized it was always him for me. I couldn't believe it, but I loved him too with every fiber of my being. "Of course I'll go to prom with you." When I witnessed him repress the world's largest smile, eyes twinkling, I said, "I think I have to get back home. Thank you for the best night. I love you too."

After he nodded, I went inside his home and swiftly changed into my extra clothes I'd brought. I sneaked back home, a grin never leaving my face. As I lay in bed that night, I texted him.

This was so much better than sleeping.

Gilbert: Anne, may I take you on a date tomorrow?

The prospect of a date with him was too much to handle. I audibly giggled.

What time?

Gilbert: Hmm. How does "I'll pick you up the moment school ends" sound?

Then how will my truck get home?

You'll drive your truck home, you'll text me when you're home, and I'll drive a few feet and park near Green Gables and ring the doorbell.

I chuckled. How ridiculous my boy was.

Sounds like a plan. I'll count down the minutes until our date begins.

Goodnight, beautiful.

I fell asleep smiling.