In all honesty, Lincoln should've expected the worst when, after dropping by the Casagrandes' place with Lori to visit Ronnie Anne, he decided to take up Ronnie Anne's proposal on hanging out with Sameer, Casey, and Nikki at the skate park.

His better senses told him that he'd only make a fool of himself by trying to keep up with people who were far better at skateboarding than him, but he ultimately caved in to the thought of looking like a weenie in front of Ronnie Anne—he didn't mind her calling him "Lame-O" as a customary nickname, but the last thing he wanted was her using it as a reflection of his trepidation.

Perhaps, Lincoln thought, as he trudged through the busy streets of Great Lakes City to reach the Casagrandes' apartment, that being a "coward" would've been better than being the punchline of the skate park for the hour-long duration he had been there before he had decided that he had had enough of wiping out and falling on his butt. Ronnie Anne and the gang were mercifully encouraging, but that didn't make the teasing comments and rude laughter from passersby sting any less.

What made the whole ordeal worse was how hot it was. Had he known exactly what 90° weather would've done to him, he would've drank at least two bottles of water and swapped out his orange polo for a lighter shirt before he worked up a ton of sweat in the middle of making a fool of himself—at least he would've been cool in some sense.

Tugged between feeling like he was going to die from humiliation and the smoldering heat, Lincoln couldn't say that it had been a great day, so far. Still, he could least find a modicum of comfort in what Ronnie Anne had said to him before he left:

"Make sure you're nice and comfortable by the time I'm done with the guys," she had said with a smile and a light jab in his shoulder. "I want you to be in a good mood before I whoop your butt at "Muscle Fish Mayhem". In the meantime, just hang out in my room 'til I swing by. I shouldn't take long. Just don't get your sweat all over my bed sheets."

The rest of the afternoon hanging out with Ronnie Anne and video games? Just the two of them? Now that was something he could look forward to. A smile spread across Lincoln's sweat-drenched face just thinking about it. Regardless of what new, exciting things that Great Lakes City could offer him, nothing about those attractions and activities could compare to what was familiar to him—the bonding with one of his best friends in the world.

Even though the Casagrandes' apartment space was fairly ventilated, Lincoln didn't find himself that much cooler after entering it—still, if felt better than feeling roasted to a crisp (he had more than enough of his fill of that from the weather and those mean strangers at the park). To make matters worse, the bodega's reach-in, beverage refrigerators and freezers were out of order, so the most Lincoln could do was buy a bottle of warm, room temperature water before he made his way to Ronnie Anne's bedroom.

After finding a cozy spot on the floor in front of the bed, Lincoln did the only thing he could do while Ronnie Anne was gone and wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And...well, wait. In actuality, though, just sitting around wasn't the only things Lincoln did as he bided his time.

He took a few swigs of his bland, warm water, doing his best not to feel queasy once he felt the liquid splash around in his gut as it churned around in sloshing waves—he couldn't make the nasty aftertaste go away no matter how hard he tried, though.

There was a brief session of channel surfing, too, but he quickly found himself the victim of one of modern technology's most ironic downsides, at least pertaining to television—hundreds of channels available yet nothing interesting to watch for more than a few seconds.

After that, he peeked down his shirt to take a look at his lone chest hair to see if it had made some friends. Unfortunately, he couldn't say that he had more badges of honor to his sense of masculinity after his search was finished (though, he swore he could just make out yet another freckle underneath his left nipple).

With all of his recreational options exhausted (or at least the ones that could come to his mind right away), Lincoln just resigned himself to the clutches of boredom and stared at the ceiling, hoping that there were some wet spots he could watch dry or something.

But after a few minutes of surveying chipped paint and cracks, his mind began to drift towards a sound that was radiating nearby, just a foot or so away. It came out as a quiet, deep hum, mechanically whirring on a ceaseless loop.

'What on Earth is that?' Lincoln thought, swiveling his head towards his left and mindlessly flinging tiny beads of sweat off his forehead in the process.

Lo and behold, Ronnie Anne's mini-fridge was the first thing to catch Lincoln's gaze. However, it was the tempting possibility of what that fridge presented that made Lincoln's focus stay in place. Though he wasn't burning to a crisp anymore, there didn't seem a better way to not only beat the heat but get rid of that lingering warm water aftertaste than with one of Ronnie Anne's cold, fruity ice pops.

Lincoln smiled and reached out his hand for the fridge's handle. "Well then, don't mind if I d−"

He stopped himself—just before his fingertips could graze the handle—as soon as he remembered his limits.

"Whoops. Almost forgot. Ronnie Anne doesn't like it when someone goes into her fridge and takes her ice pops without permission." A new thought, a recollection from his last visit, made him snicker. "Too bad Carl didn't learn his lesson the last time. He could've avoided that nasty Indian burn."

Rather than use his hand to get himself in trouble, he rummaged it into his pocket instead.

"No problem," Lincoln said. "I'll just call Ronnie Anne and ask her if I can have one. Now then, where's my...ah! There it is!"

His questing fingers—after pushing past pocket lint, his house keys, and his wallet—grabbed his phone, at last. Despite his sweaty fingers making the task of securing the phone somewhat of a hassle, Lincoln still managed to turn on the power button.

What he couldn't manage, however, was keeping himself letting out a frustrated groan when, instead of an image of the home screen coming to life, a picture of a flashing, drained battery popped up to convey the phone's lack of life.

"Great," Lincoln grumbled. "This is what I get for not charging my phone after I spend my entire night texting Clyde about that upcoming Bill Buck autograph signing."

He slipped it back in his pocket and sighed. "Guess this means I gotta wait before she comes back."

That wasn't quite true. He could've also asked one of the remaining tenants if they could call Ronnie Anne and ask for permission in Lincoln's place, but the only people left were Rosa (who was napping), Carlos (who was too busy with his nose in a book to pay heed to much of anything), and Carlitos (who wouldn't be of any help for obvious reasons). Had he come to this conundrum sooner, he could've gone down to the bodega and asked Bobby, but he was long gone by now—he had told Lincoln that he was going to leave to go run an errand for Hector right after he purchased that yucky water.

For now, he was on his own.

'Yep.'

A poor boy caught in the middle of inconvenient circumstances.

'Mmhmm.'

Like the nasty water he had to drink just to stay afloat.

'Uh-huh.'

And that box of splendid, frozen treasures that he wasn't allowed to have without his friend's permission.

Lincoln swallowed and licked his lips, tasting a faint tang of sweat. 'That's, uh, r-right.'

It was too bad he couldn't indulge himself just a little. After all, the transparent covering of the door revealed one..two...three...four...five unopened boxes of ice pops. Surely, Ronnie Anne wouldn't notice one little ice pop going missing. Just one, that's all it would be.

She wouldn't have to know a thing.

By now, Lincoln was on his hands and knees, his face pressed against the cool glass of the fridge's covering. The hypnotic swirl in his eyes and the drop of drool hanging out the corner of his mouth were the unspoken signs of him giving in to the temptation.

He snapped himself out of his spellbound state when he remembered to take measures. He looked behind him to check the door and sighed with relief when he saw it closed. By the time he turned back around, he had already made up his mind on exactly what he wanted.

'Orange-flavored, it is.'

Even though that delicious orange ice pop was long gone, Lincoln couldn't help but smack his lips in contentment, as if there was enough of the pop's sweet juices around his mouth for him to suck in and savor. Still, he didn't need any of the treat's residue to be satisfied with himself—not only did his pilfering stunt do the trick in obliterating the grody taste of water out of his mouth, but he had been feeling refreshed after only a few bites.

'Man that hit the spot. Y'know, I think I could go for another. I'm pretty sure I can sneak one more before-'

"Hey, Lincoln? You around here or what?"

'Oooooor not.'

Lincoln cupped his hands around his mouth and called back, hoping to be loud enough for his friend to hear, "I'm in here, Ronnie Anne!"

As soon as he heard her footsteps drawing closer with each passing second, Lincoln made a quick check around the floor to make sure that there wasn't anything incriminating lying around. With no ice pop wrappers, ice pop sticks, or ice pop stains to be seen, Lincoln's face settled into a smile just before the door opened, revealing none other than Ronnie Anne with her skateboard tucked under her arm Unlike before she left the apartment, she had her purple hoodie tied around her waist, leaving an undershirt to cover up her torso.

"Ah, there's my favorite Lame-O in the world," Ronnie Anne said with a cheeky smirk.

As Lincoln chuckled, Ronnie Anne entered and shut the door behind her. From there, she affixed one end of her skateboard onto the hook next to the door frame.

"Listen, sorry I made you wait for so long," Ronnie Anne said with her back turned to Lincoln. "It's just that Casey thought he could outdo my signature nollie inward heelflip. So I, the queen of the skate park, had to show him who's boss."

Even though Lincoln didn't know Casey very well, that made sense to him. Out of the three of Ronnie Anne's new friends, Casey seemed like the most brash of the trio.

"Did you show him up?" Lincoln asked.

Ronnie Anne turned around, revealing her quirked eyebrow and amused grin. "Um, yeah. What part of 'queen of the skate park' didn't you get?"

Before he could react in defense, Ronnie Anne had walked over to him and tussled his hair, her gesture earning a few giggles from him. Though, after a few seconds, Ronnie Anne's hand hadn't departed form his head. Instead, the tips of her fingers curiously swiveled through his damp, matted locks. It didn't take long for his body to stiffen and his face to heat up from jittery nerves—he couldn't help but feel a small swarm of humming birds brushing their wings wildly in his gut from the sensations her motions were accidentally evoking in him, but he didn't dare think of it as anything but her tickling him.

...

Even if he could vividly remember feeling the same way from just looking at Paige from a distance.

"Man, you're sweaty," Ronnie Anne said right after pulling away. "Too bad there isn't a water fountain I can push you into right about now. That'd cool you off."

"Uh, yeah," Lincoln replied as he laughed weakly at her joke, keeping his head down to keep her from noticing the tiny blush that still wouldn't leave his cheeks.

"Oh well. I guess we'll just have to have the next best thing."

"What's that?"

"One of my ice pops," Ronnie Anne said as she approached the mini-fridge and knelt in front of it. "Lemme go grab one for ya."

Lincoln felt his heart jump in his chest and fresh sweat began to trickle down his face and arms…

...before he calmed down almost as fast as it took for him to tense up. There was no reason, he reminded himself, for Ronnie Anne to notice anything amiss. It was just one measly ice pop. What was the chance that she'd even—

"Hmm, that's weird. It...looks like I'm missing one."

Lincoln's teeth clenched and his eyes widened to the size of frisbees. 'Dang it!'

"Is, uh, that so?" Lincoln replied, his hands wringing nervously in his lap.

"Uh-huh. There were five in the grape box, three in the cherry box, eight in the green apple box, seven in the lemon box, and five in the orange box. But now, the orange box only has four."

"You sure? I-I mean..." Lincoln paused, breathing heavily through his nose in an attempt to steady his nerves and keep himself from showing his hand through his stuttering "...I mean, that's like, what, twenty ice pops? You could've just made a mistake and miscounted."

For what felt like hours in his anxious mind, Ronnie Anne didn't say a word. He went against his sound judgment (something that seemed to be the running theme for today's events thus far) when he dared to look over and try to catch a glimpse of Ronnie Anne's expression to see if she was taking his word for it. Unfortunately, she was leaving him in the dark by having her back facing him—he couldn't even make out her face through the reflection of the fridge's glass.

Fortunately for him, he could feel a sense of acceptance to his fib when he saw Ronnie Anne take a deep breath and slouch her shoulders forward.

"You know what, Lincoln? You're right."

Lincoln couldn't let out a relieved sigh, thinking that it would tip him off to getting away scot-free. That didn't stop him from grinning from ear-to ear, though.

"But, uh, Lincoln?"

"Yeah?"

"Before we have some ice pops..."

In a sudden move, Ronnie Anne shut the fridge door and spun around on her knees. As if the sudden movement wasn't surprising enough, the look on Ronnie Anne's face was even more surprising. Those darn hummingbirds came back to play as soon as he saw the sparkle deeply-embedded in her shimmering eyes. Her grin, taut as it stretched under the bridge of her nose, pushed up her freckled cheeks.

"...there's something I've always wanted to tell you. I've just been putting it off because I didn't know how to do what I needed to do."

She crawled over to him, her eyes never leaving his the entire time. She only broke her gaze away to look down at his hands and promptly grasped them in her hands. The softness of her palms grazing the back of his hands made his arms tingle.

"Remember that time we had that double date with Bobby and Lori?"

Lincoln didn't his best to articulate a simple word, but his dry, sandpaper throat wouldn't permit it. All he could do was nod weakly, even without knowing where or why Ronnie Anne was doing this.

"I didn't say it then, but I'll say it now." Lincoln gulped when he noticed a crimson blush bloom on Ronnie Anne's face. "You made me feel really special. I'll never forget that."

"Uh...w-well, I-"

"And I think it's only fair that I return the favor."

Lincoln flinched. "F-favor? What'd you mean?"

Her hands slipped away from his, only to reach forward and cup his cheeks. She scooted closer, stopping just as her knees bumped into him—the proximity nearly made the tips of their noses brush.

"Like this," she whispered.

He didn't look down at her hands as he felt them slip around his neck, locking in place through threaded fingers—he was too mesmerized by the intimacy of the moment, looking on as Ronnie Anne's eyes slipped close as she slowly leaned forward. It was enough to make him babble incoherently, his brain firing on all cylinders to present a reasonable explanation to all of this.

But in the end, nothing come to mind. Instead, the pull of the magnetizing atmosphere compelled him to do what felt natural.

His own eyes closed, and his heart blasted rhythmically against his ribs as he softly pursed his lips. He swore he could feel the stray hairs of Ronnie Anne's hair brushing against his face, gently caressing him in gentle sways. Her hands were on the move again, one of them smoothing around his neck to cup under his chin while the other laid firm against his cheek. The hand on his chin came to life again to lightly trace shiver-inducing patterns on his skin…

...only for those fingers to make a firm grasp on his chin in tandem with the other hand to press stiffly against his cheekbone. Lincoln's eyes shot open from confusion, and the sight of Ronnie Anne's annoyed frown made him wished that he hadn't. He couldn't pull away in time before she yanked his lower jaw down, just enough for his mouth to open by a significant fraction. It didn't hurt, but Lincoln was too stymied to do anything but stay in place as Ronnie Anne surveyed the inside of his mouth with perusal. After a few seconds, she looked back at him through an icy stare through a squint.

"Well, what'd you know? Orange teeth and an orange tongue. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were nibbling on a big 'ol bag of carrot sticks." She abruptly tore her hands away and stood up, crossing her arms over her chest. "Or maybe, you were sneaking into my mini-fridge and helping yourself to one of my ice pops behind my back. Is that it, Lincoln?"

In the event that Ronnie Anne had found him out, Lincoln thought that his first reaction to the situation would've primarily been based on fear. But all it took was one look at her disappointed expression to be filled with a sensation that felt even worse.

Shame.

"Yeah. That is what it is," Lincoln said, his voice wavering in sadness. "Look, I'm sorry I did that. I didn't think-"

"Yeah. No kidding."

Lincoln winced. Yeah, he definitely deserved that. Not only had he taken something from his friend, but he had the gall to lie about it. He wouldn't be surprised if she didn't want to talk to him for the rest of the da-

"But hey, I guess it's just one ice pop, right? I...guess can let that slide."

To Lincoln's disbelief, Ronnie Anne was looking down on him with a smile tinged with a sliver of condescension. It wasn't the most heartwarming sight, but it beat having her look like she wanted nothing to do with him.

"You mean...you're not gonna give me an Indian burn?" Lincoln asked, knowing that questioning if she felt ill will towards his actions was foolish.

"Pfft, naw. I only did that to Carl because that was the sixth time I caught him doing that." For just a brief moment, her stern glower came out once more. "Still, I'm a little disappointed in you for lying to me and for taking my stuff without asking. Not cool, dude."

Lincoln sighed. "I know. Again, I'm really sorry about that. I promise that it'll never happen again."

Ronnie Anne smirked at him again. "It's alright, Lincoln. I mean, I already got even with you, anyway."

"You did?" Lincoln asked, furrowing his brow. "When?"

Ronnie Anne covered her mouth with her hand and giggled. "Oooooooh, I dunno. How about with that priceless look on your face when you thought I was gonna kiss you? Huh? Huuuuuh?"

What felt like the biggest, brightest blush he was ever subjected to consumed Lincoln's face like wildfire in the blink of an eye. Mercilessly, Ronnie Anne took it upon herself to crouch down and softly pinch Lincoln's cheek.

"What were you blushing for, Linky?" she teased through pouty lips. "Does someone have a crushy-wushy?"

"What?! H-hey now, that was...t-that was...uh..." A lightbulb went off in his head, and his revelation gave him enough moxie to pull away from her hand and smile back with the same cocky edge that she had. "Oh yeah?! Well, you were blushing, too! How about that?!"

He guffawed when Ronnie Anne mirrored his embarrassment, stammering and blushing with the best of them. Still, he wouldn't fool himself by forgetting his place in all of this. Just because he wasn't the one being defensive right now didn't mean he could pretend that there wasn't an underlying layer to their relationship that seemed to make her just as flustered as him.

After all, why was Ronnie Anne's face all red when she was the one in the driver's seat with her little act? She could've set the bar anywhere she wanted, yet she chose to go towards territory that inspired such genuine passion (even for a few seconds), something that he had only seen through his parents or the McBrides or Lori and Bobby, or...or…

That moment in time when the world stood still as he took her by the hand and kissed her for everyone at the restaurant to see?

He couldn't delve on the matter further, lest he uncover something that he felt that neither he nor Ronnie Anne were willing to confront right now. It also didn't help that in his musing, Ronnie Anne had taken the liberty of pressing something cold and hard against his chest. The slight discomfort from her actions couldn't stop him from smiling at her, not caring to hide the effect that her current expression had on him.

"Just shut up and have a stinkin' ice pop, will ya?" she said through her trembling grin, her blush almost as red as the cherry popsicle that was cooling his skin through his shirt.

He took the proffered treat, all while he slowly came to terms with two things.

One, while Ronnie Anne was a dear friend, she was also a very pretty friend.

Two, he wouldn't have minded if she took a few more inches forward with her wily ruse.

Just for a little while, anyway.