A New Beginning || Gilbert Blythe x Oc ||

Chapter 10

Meanwhile, Anne, ever empathetic to the feelings of others, briefly met Gilbert's bewildered gaze with a look of profound apology. It was clear he was at a loss, caught between his good intentions and the intricate web of social expectations he had inadvertently disrupted. With a few hurried words of regret, Anne excused herself and hastened after Lydia, her skirt swishing softly against the grass as she moved.

Anne's concern for Lydia was palpable in the urgency of her steps and the anxious tone that colored her voice as she called out to her friend. "Lydia!" The word was a plea, a call for connection in a moment that had left them both feeling exposed and vulnerable. Anne knew all too well the sting of being the subject of gossip and the pain of feeling isolated within their small community. Her heart ached for Lydia, understanding too well the conflict raging within her friend—the struggle between the desire to belong and the need to remain true to oneself.

As Lydia felt the gap between her and Anne lessen, a part of her unclenched. Anne's loyalty and her willingness to stand by her side were a balm to the raw edges of her pride and dignity. Together, they moved further away from the stream, leaving behind the tangled mess of misunderstandings and harsh judgments.

-+-

Lydia was seated next to Diana, her focus divided between the teacher, who was diligently inscribing notes onto the chalkboard, and her chalkboard, where she meticulously copied down every word. The classroom was suffused with the monotonous rhythm of education—until Gilbert decided to disrupt the peace.

With a mischievous glance toward Lydia, Gilbert picked up a piece of chalk and, aiming for attention rather than accuracy, tossed it in her direction. Lydia, feeling the small projectile lightly tap her arm, chose to ignore the provocation, her gaze remaining fixed on her notes. This dismissal only served to deepen Gilbert's frown, his ego slightly bruised by her indifference.

Undeterred, Gilbert shifted tactics, his eyes landing on the ripe apple resting atop his desk. With a nonchalance that belied his intent, he stood, apple in hand, and sauntered over to Lydia's desk under the guise of stretching his legs. "Whoops," he murmured, a pretense of innocence coloring his tone as he placed the apple beside her notebook.

Not getting a reaction, he escalated his approach. "Hey," he called out, a bit louder, adding a taunt, "Orphan!" When that too failed to elicit a response, he resorted to a more physical annoyance—tugging sharply at her hair.

This act ignited a fire within Lydia, pushing her past her breaking point into a fury she'd later wish she could disavow. "I'm not talking to you," she yelled, the frustration and anger bubbling over as she swung her small chalkboard, striking him squarely in the face. The sound of wood meeting skin was followed by a collective gasp from their classmates, some of whom couldn't contain their laughter at the spectacle.

Surveying the damage—her chalkboard now cracked and splintered—Lydia caught Gilbert's smug expression. "You just did," he retorted, his smirk widening despite the altercation.

Gritting her teeth in a mix of anger and regret, Lydia was snapped from her heated reverie by Mr. Phillips' stern voice. "Miller-Barry!" he bellowed. "Get up here now! What a vicious display!"

With heavy steps, Lydia made her way to the front of the class, her heart racing with a cocktail of emotions. The teacher's next words were a harsh rebuke that echoed the prejudices she'd fought against since her arrival. "Is this what they taught you in that orphanage?" he questioned disdainfully, his words like lashes. "Unacceptable!"

Once at the front, Mr. Phillips turned her to face her peers, a punitive showcase meant to amplify her shame. Amidst the stifled giggles and mocking stares from some of the girls, Lydia's frustration morphed into a deep-seated anger. She was being judged not just for her actions, but for her very existence and past.