That autumn, Roy Gardner became a fixture in Pam's life. Her landlady allowed gentlemen callers for her 'girls', as she affectionately called them, twice during the week and once on Saturdays. The first visiting day, Roy called with a small bouquet for Pam and his hat in his hands, dimple flashing, and Pam walked him into the parlor.

The landlady, Mrs. Harrison, immediately took to him, as did Pam, for his charming disposition was very appealing. To think, he came to visit her! To be in the realm of grown-ups in which a young gentleman came calling to see her was quite a wonder.

At times, she could hardly believe she, Pam Shirley had a beau, and it took a heated discussion with Meredith to convince her that indeed, Roy was courting. Her friends approved of him; Meredith wholeheartedly, Katy a little too much for Pam's liking, and even Angela assented that he was a very nice young man.

Kelly wrote rapturous letters and Pam was swept into Kelly's romantic world. Of course, it was lovely to be able to write back with stories of her own, how Roy came to take her for walks, and he'd take her arm.

She didn't write to Kelly of the strange, lonely feeling she got when they caught a glimpse of Jim Blythe and that Karen Stuart around town. They were laughing and talking, and Pam had a flash of memory of their carefree friendship. Then she looked up at Roy and he grinned down at her, squeezing her arm lightly, and she pushed the memory of Jim far down in her mind.

The autumn months moved along and Pam was busy every day. Homework and Roy filled her life, and she relished it, for it left her too frenzied to be homesick. Phyllis wrote several times a week, and her letters were always steady and comforting, much like Phyllis herself. Mrs. Marjorie Lynde kept Pam awash in the town happenings, which Pam enjoyed, for Kelly's letters were full of Ryan and not much else.

The weekends slipped by, and Pam resigned herself to only a few short visits back to Avonlea. It was strange to be back in her old room, and a part of her missed her life at Queen's. A small part of her realized that her old haunts weren't the same because she was growing up, and an even smaller part knew that it was strange that Jim wasn't there, laughing and joking as he had done.

Roy made good on his promise to introduce her to the world of rugby, and delighted in explaining the finer points of the game. At the first match she attended, he smiled so much at her that it was a wonder he didn't get hurt more. He caught her eye after every spectacular move, and she tried very hard to follow the match and was proud when she was able to understand it.

After that, it was assumed that Pam would accompany Roy to every match that she could, and she was happy to support her beau. Sometimes, though, she thought she'd rather stay at home and study, but she couldn't stand the thought that Roy would be disappointed. He so loved that she cheered him on. She compromised with herself by slipping a book or two into her coat pocket and reading bits here and there.

One snapping November afternoon, Pam was yet again watching a rugby match, schoolbook on her lap. It was hard to turn the pages with her mittened hands, so her mind was wandering more than it ought. She was just about to attempt to read again when the girls plopped themselves next to her.

"Hi Pam!" said Meredith and Katy, and Angela echoed them quietly. She looked sad, so Pam quickly launched into Mrs. Lynde's latest news from Avonlea. "And Mr. Harrison painted his barn blue, not red, and she says the Schrudes have been so busy putting up the beets that not a one of them has time to go into town or even post a letter," she finished up. Meredith and Katy looked disinterested, but a look of relief passed over Angela's face for a shadow of a moment.

"Pam, come downtown with us," urged Meredith. "We're going to have coffee and walk through the square."

"We just might walk right past the French professor's house," giggled Katy, "And we're going to buy some fudge from the handsome boy at the confectioner's, too."

"Please do come, Pam," said Angela beseechingly, and Pam felt torn. "I'd love to go, but I promised Roy I'd watch the match," she said.

"Of course, the man always comes before the girls," teased Meredith, and Pam felt worse. "Honestly, it's not that," she protested, and Angela grabbed Meredith's arm "Leave her be," she said, and Katy tossed her newspaper down next to Pam.

"You can have it if you want, I only bought it for the society page," she said, and Pam picked it up. Newspapers were a rare luxury to her. It was much easier to hold than a book with her mittens, and she watched as her friends' brightly colored hats bobbed through the crowd.

She turned her attention back to the paper and read through everything. By the time Roy came bounding off the field, red-faced and smiling broadly, Pam was waiting anxiously next to her bench.

"Roy, look," she began, but he interrupted. "Did you see what Reynolds and Harlan tried to pull on me?" he asked jubilantly, gathering his belongings together.

"What? Oh, yes, that was tricky," Pam replied, still clutching the paper. "Roy-"

"Well I showed them, didn't I? I can't believe they thought they could pass our ruck," he continued, a swagger in his step. "And did you see the two dropped goals I scored? Larrabee tried for it, but I was actually able to do it," he continued, and Pam smiled at him.

"That was fun to watch," she admitted. "You're my good luck charm," Roy said, smiling down at her, and heat bloomed in her cheeks.

"Roy, just look at what I found. There's an advertisement for a new art gallery that's offering an art class every Saturday afternoon!" she said, fairly bouncing in an undignified way. "I thought it might be fun to try, though I doubt I'm good enough."

"Every Saturday? But that's when I play rugby," he said, and there was a pronounced note of disappointment in his voice. "What will I do without my good luck charm? Can't you do art another time?" 

He looked so very like a sad little puppy that Pam relented. "I guess you're right," she said, "I can always draw on my own, I don't need a class to do it in."  Roy's dimple popped out and he threaded her arm around his. "Besides, all the fellows think I'm lucky to have such a cute girl as my cheer leader," he said, tweaking her blue tam and making her blush.

"You don't need anyone to tell you how to draw, and what would you do if there were others better than you?" he asked, "Of course, you'd be the best."

He patted her arm, and she ignored the small twinge of lost opportunity.  She valued Roy's opinion and was proud that he thought so highly of her. She pushed the art classes aside in her mind and smiled up at her beau.  It was true that she might not be the best, but a small part of her regretted that she might never find out.