Nothing was ever said between Pam and Jim about the drawing she mailed him in apology, aside from the small smile he gave her when they entered the schoolhouse the following Monday.

They had seemed to reach an unspoken agreement never to discuss the matter, yet Jim always gave her an encouraging smile when Mr. Scott called her Pambrandt again, or Leonardo Pamvinci, or, his personal favorite, Pamelangelo. She was much relieved to have Jim back on her side; she had never before appreciated how much his opinions meant to her.  Once they had finally become friends, it had been strange to be angry at him, even for a few moments.

When they left the schoolhouse for the last time that summer, Pam felt a keen sense of sorrow. This had been the first place where she had felt she had truly belonged, and she was sad to see her time there come to a close. She had always felt like this at momentous times in her life, and if one were to look closely at her paintings and drawings, one might see a certain shadow or darkness that wasn't normally present. 

In the weeks following, she was acutely aware of the finality of many of her activities. "This is the last time I'll take the wagon to Markdale for Bob," she thought, or "This is the last time I'll go berrying with Kelly, Meredith and Angela."

In her mind she felt it wasn't that she was not excited for Queen's College; on the contrary, she was thrilled at the thought of passing for a teacher, something she had dreamt of for years. She had scarcely thought it was possible but in the past few years had gained courage and confidence. The reality of it was that she dearly loved her life in Avonlea and was slightly wary of what the change in venue might bring for her. Avonlea folks accepted her for who she was and she had many friends, but what if Queen's College was different?

Phyllis and Bob noticed the change in her, and when Phyllis voiced her worries to Mrs. Marjorie Lynde, the woman was comforting. "She's just got a case of nerves. The shy ones often do. She'll be fine."

Pam herself suspected that she'd be fine once she got to school, but that didn't stop her from having a rather bittersweet summer. She and the other girls rarely got away from chores and preparing for college, so Pam didn't get to see her friends as often as she would have liked. She helped Phyllis and Bob around the farm and spent her evenings at her easel, sketching and drawing all the sights dear to her.

It came to pass that Kelly would be having a going-away party for all the college bound young folk, and Pam was excited at the prospect. It would be a hayride and bonfire, and Kelly's father had promised to carry down the Victrola so there could be dancing. Bob would supply the ice cream, and Mrs. Barry would be preparing many sweet and savoury dishes.

"It's guilt, that's what," said Mrs. Lynde, over for tea one afternoon. "They're trying to make up for not letting Kelly go to Queen's, they've been mighty overprotective of her since that sister of hers died right before going to college."

The day of the party was clear and bright; there was a crisp nip in the air and the leaves were beginning their change into brilliance. Pam dressed in her favorite blue dress, adding a thick sweater for warmth. In the mirror, she twisted her hair up in a pompadour and pinned it. She looked quite grown up, she thought, but she felt more like a child playing at being an adult. She pulled a few loose curls down to frame her face and quite liked the effect.

She said goodbye to Bob and Phyllis and headed down the path towards the Barry house. She was early, but she thought it would be nice to help Kelly, and perhaps they'd be able to chat while they worked; Pam had barely been able to speak with her in nearly a week. Pam supposed she'd better get used to it, since she'd only be able to exchange letters with Kelly once school started, save for some weekends when she'd be able to take the train back to Avonlea.

She slowed down as she approached the Barry property, for she heard low voices and didn't wish to intrude. What she saw made her stop short. Kelly was standing next to Ryan Wright, their heads bent together; he was saying something and she was laughing a low, un-Kellylike laugh, and his arm was circled around her waist in an intimate gesture. Pam quickly stepped back, face burning. She had no idea that was happening and felt almost hurt that Kelly hadn't told her. To find out  this way was less than wonderful, and Pam felt strangely lonely as she watched her friend enter a world that was heretofore unknown to both of them.

She stood for a moment, wondering what she should do. She had half a mind to return to Green Gables for a little while until the actual party started, but then she'd have to face Phyllis's questioning. She heard a noise and turned to see Jim tromping up the path towards her. "'Evening, Pam," he said, "What makes you look so bewildered?"

Pam pointed toward Kelly and Ryan. "I had no idea that this was happening," she said quietly, "It just took me by surprise, I guess."

Jim grinned. "Ryan mentioned that he'd been seeing a little of Kelly," he said, and Pam's insides squirmed. Was she the last to know?

Jim moved ahead of her toward Ryan and Kelly, and Pam decided she might as well follow. Kelly and Ryan broke apart, and Kelly moved toward Pam as the boys began to talk. "Paaaam!" squealed Kelly quietly, slipping her arm around Pam's waist. "Why didn't you tell me?" asked Pam, half smiling and half sad.

"I haven't been able to see you, it's been terrible, but oh, Ryan is so sweet and it's so exciting!" said Kelly. "That's so nice," said Pam, but Kelly was already off and running toward the house.

They said no more about it as the four of them set up the party. Pam watched Kelly and Ryan shoot smiles and tender glances at each other, and she felt strange again. It wasn't that she was not happy for Kelly, on the contrary. She didn't know why she felt to strange, perhaps she was just sad at being left behind, and a small part of her recognized that she'd very much like to be looked at like that. She imagined meeting a tall, dark stranger at college. He would whisper in her ear, and take her dancing, and she'd laugh quietly and take his arm.

The thought made her grin, and Jim saw it. "What's the smile for?" he asked, and she glanced up at him. "I'll never tell, " she said, blushing slightly. Jim just shook his head at her.

Nothing else was said of the matter as the party began in full swing. Mr. Barry loaded up his hay wagon and took the lot of them for a hayride around Avonlea. The wagon was crowded, full of giggling and shouting as everyone embraced one last vestige of childhood before the grown-up world of college and marriage swallowed them. Pam laughed joyfully with Kelly and Meredith, and even Angela allowed a bit of indignity when she started a hay fight with Dwighde Schrude.

They all watched as Mr. Scott waved from the lane and hopped on the hay wagon amid looks of consternation.  Pam turned to Kelly to exclaim over this, but Kelly had turned to Ryan, and they were cozily holding hands. Pam didn't want to intrude, and even as she turned away, she found herself with a faceful of hay, courtesy of Jim. "Jim Blythe! I'll get you for that!" she cried, returning the favor and flinging hay into his hair.

Back at the Barry farm, they climbed down from the hay wagon, all looking disheveled and pink-cheeked. Pam thought they looked like a gaggle of scarecrows, especially poor Toby Sloane, who was pulling hay from inside his knickerbockers.

While they were gone, Mrs. Barry had laid out the food, and they all set upon it hungrily. Kelly's parents had invited some of the elder Avonlea crowd for a supper party, promising Kelly that they'd leave the younger folk alone. Their table was set at a distance, and Pam waved to Phyllis and Bob who were conversing with Mrs. Lynde and the Widow Gould.

As she ate, Pam watched Mr. Scott trot back and forth between the two groups, as though he did not want to miss any excitement that might occur without him. "I'm absolutely convinced that he thinks his invitation was lost in the post," said a voice in her ear, and she turned to see Jim.

"Or perhaps he thinks he was invited to both parties and Mrs. Barry and Kelly each thought the other sent the invitation," offered Pam, and Jim laughed. "Either way, it's slightly embarrassing," Pam said,  "but I almost think I'll miss Mr. Scott at college."

"For all we know, he may decide to go to teacher's college again, and we'll never be shot of him," said Jim, and they helped themselves to ice cream as Kelly wound the Victrola and Ryan stoked the bonfire.

A beautiful waltz floated across the party, and everyone was shocked to see Mr. Scott extend his hand to the Widow Gould; even more surprisingly, she accepted. Others began to dance; Pam watched Bob lead Phyllis to the space cleared for dancing, Phyllis's face glowing with pride and pleasure.

Everyone was startled when the music stopped abruptly, for Mr. Scott had pulled the needle from the record. He climbed precariously onto a chair. "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I have a proclamation to make!" he cried, holding his arms out for balance. Dwighde stood below him, arms ready to catch him should Mr. Scott fall.

"As you may know, I have been in pursuit of the charming Widow Gould for these past six years, and tonight, she has consented to dance with me. My darling Janet, you have made me the happiest man on this chair tonight. Will you do me the honor of honoring me by promising to make me make you a widow no more?"

The heads of the crowd snapped around to look at the Widow Gould; her face was white and her eyes were blazing. "Mr. Scott!" she hissed through clenched teeth."Get down from there!"

Mr. Scott's smile was frozen on his face. "Well?" he asked, arms still outstretched. "Please may we discuss this in private?" asked the Widow Gould, and Pam knew she was trying to avoid a scene. She likely knew the news would have spread through the town by morning, no matter what. Pam caught Jim's eye and stopped herself from giggling aloud as Jim motioned slitting his throat. She wound an imaginary noose around her throat, and he grinned.

They all watched as Mr. Scott visibly wilted and climbed down from his chair, Dwighde lending a hand. The crowd dispersed, all talking animatedly as the Widow Gould clamped a hand around Mr. Scott's arm and dragged him away.

Mrs. Lynde made her way to Pam, shaking her head. "That man will be the death of himself. Pam dear, come talk to the Reverend Leonard about that Rollings Reliable contest, he's real excited for you."

Pam allowed herself to be led by Mrs. Lynde over to the Reverend, where she spent several minutes hesitantly recounting the saga of events. When she finally managed to excuse herself, she walked back over to the party only to find nearly everyone paired off and dancing. She saw Kelly and Ryan dancing lightly, their eyes locked together. 

Incredibly, Angela was dancing with Dwighde Schrude, everyone giving them a wide berth as they nearly bumped into Stanley and Theresa. Pam looked around for a friend with whom to exclaim over this state of affairs; Meredith was manning the punch bowl and talking with two boys. Pam crossed over to her as the boys darted away behind the summer kitchen.

"I just can't get that Oscar to ask me to dance," Meredith grumbled, "I just don't know why."  She took a large swig of punch just as a young man named Gary approached her. "Meredith, didn't you promise me a dance before we left school?" he asked, holding out his hand.

Meredith smiled and Pam was left alone again, standing next to the punch bowl. She watched as Kevin approached Miss Muriel Stacey and then Phyllis and Bob danced, eyes only on each other and suddenly Pam felt very lonely.

She moved away from the dancing and sidled into the barn, thinking she'd rather visit the horses than be a wallflower. She entered the barn and welcomed the stillness and the quiet. She supposed she ought to be used to things growing and changing; nearly her whole life had been spent feeling uprooted and uncertain. Still, she thought, why did things and people have to change? It would be so lovely to live the rest of her life just as it was, with her good friends at her side and Phyllis and Bob to care about her. 

She stroked the velvety muzzle of a horse as music from the Victrola faintly trickled in.  She closed her eyes and imagined being at a college dance with her tall dark stranger. He'd bow to her and offer his hand, and she'd curtsy. Pam placed her hand on her stranger's invisible shoulder and one in his airy hand, imagining a strong hand on her waist. She waltzed lightly on her toes, imagining a soft, floating dress swirling around her instead of her old blue muslin. She could almost hear him whispering "You look as lovely as a rose, my darling" in her ear, and she smiled and blushed. "Why thank you," she said demurely, gazing up at the air where his face would be if he were indeed, real.

Suddenly the air in front of her was filled by Jim's face. "May I?" he asked, offering his hand, and Pam had no choice but to nod. Thankfully, Jim asked no questions regarding the fact that she had been dancing by herself and speaking to the air. She slid her hand into his warm one and put her other hand on his shoulder as she felt him place his other hand at her waist.

He was so tall, and Pam realized with a start that there was much more of a man about him, rather than the boy she had known. The realization that they were growing up struck her; she was wearing skirts that brushed her shoe tops, her hair was pinned up, and she saw that childhood was truly behind them.

They began to waltz around the barn floor, Jim's hand feeling strong on her waist. Pam had never danced with a boy before, and she found it a rather different experience than with Kelly. Their knees knocked together. "I'm sorry! Kelly always makes me lead," said Pam, and Jim just nodded, muttering something under his breath.

"Are you counting?" asked Pam. Jim nodded again, saying "One, two, three, one, two, three" a little louder. Pam giggled and Jim laughed, evidently losing count, for he stepped on her toes. "I'm sorry," he said, "I'm not very good at this."

"Maybe I should lead," offered Pam, and Jim grinned down at her. She took the lead; it worked for a moment until she stepped on both of his feet. "Oh, my goodness, Jim! I'm sorry!" she laughed ruefully. "That's what copper-toed boots are for," he offered.

The song ended and they slowed to a stop. Pam realized how close they were standing; her skirts touched his trouser legs and she could feel his breath on her hair. She took a step back and let go of his hand. Her waist felt cold when he removed his hand, and she shivered slightly. "Where were you just now?" she asked, aware of the stillness in the room. "I didn't see you out there."

"Some of the fellows bought cigars off of Old Man Bratton and are smoking them behind the summer kitchen. I was there, but I wouldn't smoke anything from Old Man Bratton, you never know what might be in there," said Jim, and Pam managed a smile.  "Are you all right?" Jim asked.

Pam nodded, looking at the horses. "I just wish everything didn't have to change all at once," she said. "You mean going to school?" asked Jim, looking concerned.

"That's part of it. I just love living here, this is the first place that's been home to me, and I'm reluctant to leave, in a way," she said.

"We'll all be there with you, you won't be alone," said Jim, and Pam nodded. "I know, but it won't be the same as being here in Avonlea."

"You said that school was just part of it. What else is vexing you?"

Pam looked at the floor again. "I suppose just growing pains, as Mrs. Lynde would say. It's just so strange to see Kelly in love, and not know what it feels like. It must be amazing, I've never seen her look like that."

Jim nodded. "I know what you mean. It's a feeling unlike any other I've ever felt." It was his turn to look at the floor.

Pam looked at him. "When have you ever been in love?" she asked, surprised. He looked up at her and dread filled her stomach as she realized what seemed to hang in the air between them. Jim stepped toward her and grabbed her hands. "Pam, I-" he began.

"What- what are you doing?" she asked, not quite comprehending what was happening.

"I'm in love with you," Jim said, looking at her, crimson blooming on his cheeks. Pam's heart sank. This was all wrong, this shouldn't be happening, she and Jim were just good friends.

 "What?" she asked again faintly, not knowing what to say and wanting to make sure this was really happening. "I've loved you since the day I met you and you broke that slate over my head," Jim said. This was too much for her to hear. She breathed heavily, not taking her eyes off of him.

"Don't you care for me as well?" he asked, and she looked away from the hope in his eyes.

"Jim, I care for you ever so much as a friend," she said, and she couldn't stand the hurt that registered on his face.

"All these years, and I thought you were just hiding behind the friend excuse because you were too afraid," he said with a note of bitterness in his voice.

"I'm not afraid!" said Pam, and Jim smiled wanly. "Then say you'll marry me, Pam."

Hot tears seeped into the corners of Pam's eyes. "I couldn't marry you, you want someone who adores you," she said, desperately trying to convey the fact that the idea she had pictured of her future didn't include Jim. He was a close friend, of that she was certain, but she had the image of the faceless tall, dark stranger in the husband role in her mind.

Jim shook his head, and Pam saw that his eyes were bright, and the fact that she was seemingly breaking his heart rent a hole in her own. "Jim, I'm so sorry if I led you to believe I cared for you in that way. You're one of my dearest friends and I don't mean to hurt you," she choked.

"You've said your piece, and I understand. I'm sorry I read the signs wrong," said Jim, swiping at an eye with the back of his hand and turning away.

"Jim, please," begged Pam as he headed toward the door. "I'm desperately sorry."

Jim had taken a few steps away, but he crossed back to her and suddenly his lips were on her cheek as he kissed her softly. "I'm sorry, too. Good night Pam," he said stiffly, and then he was gone and Pam stood in the barn, tears flowing over her cheeks and splattering on her dress. She couldn't stay there one moment longer, she reached blindly for her sweater and slipped through the barn door.

She moved from the twinkling of the lanterns and bonfire into the still darkness of the night. She knew the path to Green Gables by heart and she ran blindly; allowing herself to fully sob, the sound was carried away by the wind. She felt horrible, but how could she have lied to Jim and pretended that she loved him? It wouldn't have been fair to either of them, but Pam's heart was broken just the same.

She climbed the stairs to her room and crawled into bed without undressing. The unsettling realization that Jim had loved her all this time scared her, his kiss burning on her cheek, and the thought that she had likely lost him as a friend carried her into a troubled, restless sleep.