Ridley grunts as she shifts the last of the brown boxes out of the closet and into her bedroom, which is now filled with several other boxes that contain much of her old (and somewhat useless) possessions that she'd left behind when she went to Uni. When Marcy moved into this new flat, she'd put all of the brown boxes into the musty old closet in Ridley's new room and hadn't touched them since then. And now, Ridley has spent the majority of the last hour pushing the (weirdly) heavy boxes out of the closet to sift through them and find anything useless that she supposes she'll have to give away to charity or just throw away.

She sits down with a thump and slides across the floor to the box closest to her and begins to open it. The first box contains nothing but really old, and god awfully ugly old clothes; she cringes as she puts them into two piles: Give Away and Throw Away, but most of the clothes end up in the Throw Away pile, because she can't imagine who would ever want their children going through the trauma of walking around in those rags.

After going through more trashy clothes, old socks with holes in them, half-hearted birthday cards from one or two people she'd reluctantly made friends with in secondary school and lost contact with years ago, old packets of crisps and scraps of paper with maths sums scribbled on them Ridley comes to the conclusion that none of these boxes contain anything worth giving away and is just about to give up digging into the (Fourth? Fifth?) box when she finds a thick notebook with pink and yellow post-it notes sticking out from random little pages. Ridley narrows her eyes and pulls the notebook out of the box, not understanding what it is and how it ended up here.

Ridley begins to flick through the pages of the notebook and starts to giggle as the realization dawns on her that this was the notebook in which she wrote all her stories, short little drabbles or quick little notes about possible plot ideas - it's completely filled with her messy, slightly cursive handwriting. It's useless, this little thing. She'd given up on writing so long ago, when her stupid 'Nobody's Juliet' story had been rejected and Ridley can even vaguely remember shoving this notebook under a pile of clothes in her cupboard vowing firmly that she would never set her eyes on it ever again.

Ridley draws the notebook close to her chest and she smiles to herself. It seemed like such a long time ago, it seemed like the end of the world to her back then-getting a story rejected- but now it's just a memory that she can laugh at. The sting of rejection isn't even there anymore. Heck, she'd even forgotten she wrote that silly, nonsensical little story.

After looking around for awhile, she even finds the original manuscript that she had sent to the magazine all those years ago and after a quick read of the story, she decides that it's become one of the most useful rejections in her life.

The story makes her realize how right Ben is about her. It was a cliché. It was unrealistic. Her characters were flat, not relatable. Despite all its flaws, Ridley realizes that this was the sort of romance she wanted in her own life back then and maybe even now-she had dreamed of her own Gilbert Blythe for years but she had unintentionally morphed her vision of Gilbert Blythe into another Roy Gardner. A perfect version of Gilbert Blythe that simply does not exist.

Suddenly, something in the corner of her mind sets off, like an alarm clock in the morning, and it sends a thrill down her entire body, from the very top of her head to the tip of her toes and it's that corner of her mind that hasn't been used in a long time but oh, what does it matter now? Ridley gives an excited little squeal and rushes to her laptop which has been carelessly thrown on to her bed.

With trembling fingers and a heart that is thumping far too loudly for her to hear her own thoughts, she logs into her old WritersWrite account on the internet. Oh thank god she remembers the password! With a snort, she deletes all the old short stories she has published (and thankfully, no one has bothered to read) and clicks the 'New story' option. A blank page pops up and she moves her cursor to the top and clicks on the part where it says 'Title Your Story!' and begins to type: Finding Gilbert Blythe.

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"Rids-Rids, are you in-" Marcy walks in only to stop short as she sets her eyes on a very busy-looking Ridley who is furiously typing away on her laptop, her pink tongue protruding just slightly out of her lip and her eyes; so fierce, so determined, and lost in their own little world, move along with the letters that are appearing on the screen as she types away. Marcy smiles and is just about to walk out of the room when Ridley looks up, suddenly startled, and she glances at Marcy and exhales sharply.

"God, you scared me!" she scolds. Marcy laughs and makes her way to her sister.

"Whatever have you been doing for the past three hours?" she questions and her gaze wanders curiously over to the words on the screen. Ridley yelps and hastily tries to cover the laptop screen with her hands.

"Don't read!" Her cheeks flush. "It's private."

"Oh, don't give me that bull." Marcy squashes herself next to Ridley on the bed, grinning. Ridley rolls her eyes, muttering something incoherently, as she reluctantly let's her hands fall away from the laptop screen.

Marcy silently reads the first paragraph on the screen and Ridley waits, so hoping that Marcy will like it. It's not that Marcy didn't like her stories before - she was always so supportive about them but Ridley knows she faked a lot of the enthusiasm that came with reading the stories. She knows Marcy never truly enjoyed them, probably even laughed at the unintentional naivety and innocence that came with the stories when Ridley wasn't there but this story - this story-it's different. Ridley has poured her heart and soul into it. To see Marcy-- the one person who she thinks holds the most important opinions-- not enjoy it, silently mock it, would be like a slap to Ridley's face.

After a minute of breathless anticipation, Ridley pokes Marcy's shoulder. "Yay or nay?" she murmurs, heart in mouth. Marcy tears her eyes away from the screen and Ridley already knows it's a huge 'YAY' from Marcy, just based on the look on her face, and relief immediately begins to flood through her.

"Are you kidding me?" Marcy shakes her head. "Rids, whoa, I mean I knew you always had the talent for this stuff but whoa. I mean, no offence, your other stories were cute and this story has a really cute vibe going on but it's...it's a different 'cute', you know what I mean? It's the same but it's different. Mature."

"I understand completely." Ridley immediately engulfs her older sister in a tight hug and they are both locked in a loving embrace for thirty seconds before they break off and Marcy juts her chin at the laptop screen with a smile on her face.

"I like your title," she says in approval. "'Finding Gilbert Blythe'. Somehow, I always knew you'd end up writing about him. Well not about him, but, oh, you know what I mean."

"Yeah." Ridley nibbles her lip. "It's a really personal story to me. The most personal story I've ever written. You think I should post it online?"

Marcy rolls her eyes. "Why is that even a question?" she retorts with a sigh. "Of course you should! And the more personal the story, the better. It makes it more raw, you know? Your other stories were great but they just...they just lacked a little bit of..." Marcy trails off.

"Common sense?" Ridley laughs. "Yeah, they were pretty rubbish."

Marcy shrugs, too embarrassed to agree with Ridley.

"Anyway," she says. "How are you handling...handling the whole Ben thing?"

"It's over, Marce." Ridley shakes her head, trying to block out a flood of painful memories that are trying to spill through and consume her emotions. The elation she felt with writing a new story is now replaced with the same dull ache that she thought would be over by now. Ridley hasn't seen Ben for three weeks now, and summer will be over in just four days. They'll go back to their own separate lives and most likely never speak for the rest of the year. Marcy lets out a groan and squeezes her little sister's hand.

"You know, I was rooting for you two since you came home that day complaining about an annoying little boy who called you carrots." Marcy snorts and puts her hand over her lips. "I'm sorry - whoa, okay, inappropriate moment, Rids, sorry - but oh god, I laughed so hard that day. I couldn't believe you got in trouble on the first day of school for violence. I was afraid you'd end up a little like me."

Ridley frowns. "And what's wrong with ending up like you?"

Marcy shakes her head. "You're too kind, sweetie." She smiles sadly. "Have you seen me? I'm an absolute wreck. Had a pregnancy scare at seventeen, a whole string of boyfriends - even an alcohol problem, at one point, do you remember that? But thank god I got rid of it the minute I suspected I might turn out like-" She scrunches her nose up in disgust. "-like that sorry excuse for a father we had. I had to wait years to get myself a job and a decent flat. I couldn't even get you things that you liked, back then because I didn't have money. I really am sorry for almost ruining --"

"No!" Ridley interrupts in a very firm voice. "No, Marcella, don't you think for a moment that you almost ruined my life. You saved me from that route, Marcy. What eighteen year old would throw away her education to save her little sister from a life that was bound to be messy? What eighteen year old would work a nine to five job - at a crappy pub at that - to get food on her little sister's plate? You even put up with boyfriends who were much older than you so they would come to help you out financially, just for me. Oh Marcy, I didn't care about the stuff I missed out on. And I still don't. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have ended up in one of the most prestigious Universities if it weren't for you pushing me to achieve my dreams. I love you, Marcy and you need to give yourself some credit because you deserve it."

There haven't been a lot of occasions in which Ridley Denvers has seen her sister Marcy cry but when she does cry, it's usually over something that makes her terribly sad or terribly happy. Marcy never cried over the boyfriends that she had messy break-ups with, Marcy never cried over dad or that time when one of her employers had tried to sexually assault her. No. She is a firm believer in reserving your tears for something, or someone that truly deserves them. Ridley has seen her cry when they watched the Lion King for the first time, and that time when she accidentally made Ridley fall while she was pushing her on a swing set in the park, and this really hilarious time when Marcy found out Leonardo DiCaprio wasn't actually dating Kate Winslet in real life.

And she is crying now, too, and Ridley only hopes it's because it's a situation that makes her terribly happy.

"Getting a little too emotional for my taste," she says with a half snort, wiping away the remainder of her tears. "Anyway!" Marcy fans herself to dry the tears. "I need to go order us some special pizza seeing as you'll be leaving in, like, what, three days now? And you need to publish your story. Have you finished it yet?"

"Actually," Ridley says as she bites her lip. "I was thinking of making it more than just a short story. Maybe a full length novel, you know? With cliff-hangers and everything."

Marcy squeals and gives her sister a bone-crushing hug and claps her hands together once she finally lets go. "This is great, Rids!" she exclaims enthusiastically. "And what's more, I'll get to read all of it because it's going to be posted online!"

Ridley rolls her eyes and pushes Marcy out of her bed.

"Alright, out you go now." She pats her stomach. "I'm starving. Order the pizza already!"

"Publish the story!" Marcy demands which earns a laugh from Ridley.

"I will once you order the pizza!"

"RID-"

"Alright, alright."

When Marcy leaves the room, Ridley turns to her story and takes a deep breath. Yeah, okay, Marcy liked it - but what about other people? Will they like it? She isn't even sure how many Anne of Green Gables fans are on the site. What if everyone hates the concept and totally destroys her story? No. No negativity. Ridley clenches her fists together. No negative thoughts, not when she hasn't even posted the story yet. Inhaling slowly, she clicks the 'Publish' button. There. What's done is done. No going back now.

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WRITERSWRITE: A safe internet writing website for budding writers of all ages!

I love Gilbert Blythe so much! I don't see a lot of Anne of Green Gables-related stuff out here in the internet and it's great to see a story like this, especially because you have written the first chapter BEAUTIFULLY! Definitely looking forward to more!

Ahhhhhhh! So I'm not the only one who had (and still has) SUCH a huge crush on Gilbert Blythe! LOVING this, dear! Please update soon!

I NEED MORE. I can tell this story is slowly going to be my new obsession, the very AIR I breathe...and you have crazy talent. Keep up the good work!

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