Luna Loud dug spending time with her little brother. It didn't happen very often because they had such a big family and getting one-on-one time wasn't easy, but whenever she did get Lincoln all to herself, she was happy. He really was a cool dude.

It was a no-brainer, then, who she was taking with her when she won two tickets to see AC/DC in Detroit. When she brought it up, he seemed pretty stoked, and in the two weeks leading up to it, she introduced him to AC/DC's back catalog. "Here, bro," she would say as they sat together on her bed, "you gotta hear this song." He liked Highway to Hell and Back in Black the most, which was cool, because those were her two favorite AC/DC albums too.

The concert was on a Saturday night. They left the house at five in the afternoon on a Greyhound headed south. Lincoln was wearing a black T shirt with a cannon on the front and the band's name underneath. She picked it up at the mall for him the previous day and surprised him with it right before they left. "You gotta look the part, man," she said. When he threw his arms around her waist, she nearly fell over. "You're welcome, gee," she laughed.

They arrived at the Convention Center an hour before show time. It was in a decent part of the city: As they waited, they didn't hear a single gunshot or see a single pile of rubble. "Are they gonna play Shoot to Thrill?" Lincoln asked excitedly. "I hope they do, I love that song."

"Probably, dude, it's one of their big ones." She slipped her arm around his shoulder, drew him close, and gave him a playful noogie. She was happy. She was going to see AC/DC (even if it was with Axl Rose, who was a good singer but kind of a douche), and she was going to do it with her righteous little bro. The only thing that would make the night better would be some grass, but she consciously decided not to get messed up: She had to be responsible. For Lincoln.

Their seats were halfway to the nosebleed section, but that was okay. They had a clear view of the stage and AC/DC played loud. The band took the stage at half past eight, and the crowd went nuts. Luna was kind of impressed by how good Axl sounded. He was no Brian Johnson, but, eh, he did well enough. Lincoln watched the show with wonder in his eyes.

About a quarter way through the set, Lincoln opened a bottle full of clear liquid and took a drink. "What's that?" Luna asked.

"Juice," he said, "it's pretty good. The guy next to me gave it to me." He looked at the empty seat beside him. "I guess he left. You want some?"

"Not now, but thanks."

The band closed the show with Shoot to Thrill. "There you go, dude," Luna said, and glanced at her brother, "you're..."

The words died on her lips. Lincoln was slouched in his chair, his head swaying in a circular motion. His face was pale and sheened with sweat. "You alright?" she worried.

He held up a thumb. "This good juice," he said thickly, and lifted the bottle to his lips. Luna's stomach twisted and she snatched it out of his hand. "Hey!" he slurred. "That's mine."

She sniffed it, then took a nip.

It wasn't juice. It was Smirnoff Ice.

Luna's heart dropped.

Some fucking dick hole gave her brother a plastic bottle filled with booze, now he was sloshed.

Aw, man, this is bad.

She leaned over and felt his forehead. "I'm fine," he said, pushing her hand away. Before she could stop him, he stood up on his seat. "Shoot to thrill, baby!" he slurred, and started shaking his hips. He lost his balance and pitched forward, but Luna jumped up and caught him.

"Whoa, dude! Take it easy!"

Shit, shit, shit. Mom was going to freak. And Lincoln...poor guy. Misery washed through Luna, and hot tears sprang to her eyes. "Come on, bro," she said, "let's start heading out."

"But Shoot to Thrill is on!" he said. He pulled away from her and stumbled back, bumping into a support column. He turned and looked at it. "Hey, baby! Come to Lincoln!" he threw his arms around it and kissed it passionately.

Man, he's really fucked up, Luna thought, and could have kicked herself. She went over to him and pulled him away. "Uh...let's go find some real chicks, okay?"

"Sure! Fine! I like chicks!"

Luna wrapped her arm around his shoulder and led him into the lobby. He pulled away from her at the bathroom. "I gotta piss," he said.

"Alright." She stood by the entrance with her back against the wall and her arms crossed, her stomach gnawing with worry. She listened out for him but didn't hear anything. After close to ten minutes, she poked her head in. "Linc?"

She gasped when she saw him bending over one of the urinals and ralphing. She rushed over, not caring that she shouldn't be in the men's room, and knelt. "You okay, dude?" she asked, rubbing his back.

He looked up at her with a boozy smile. "I just feel a little sick is all," he slurred. "You know?"

"Yeah, man, I been there before." She helped him up.

"Let's go back to the show," he said in the lobby.

"Show's over, bro, sorry."

"I knew that," he replied.

On the walk back to the bus station, Lincoln did his best to belt out every AC/DC song he knew, often flubbing the tune and lyrics so badly that Luna couldn't tell which one he was trying for. "For those about to shoot we thrill you, yeaaaaaah!" She couldn't help but laugh at that one.

"I think you got a couple confused, buddy," she said.

"That's Bon Scott, he sang that!"

"He didn't sing either one of those songs."

"Yes he did! Listen to the radio!"

She was hoping the cool night air would sober him up, but by the time they reached the Greyhound station, he seemed to be even drunker. Sitting in the waiting room, he leaned his head against her arm and closed his eyes.

The bus came at 11:30, and she helped him on. Maybe he'd sleep and be fine when they got home. Man, she hoped, or else Mom would kill her.

They sat in the back, Lincoln against the window and Luna on the outside so he wouldn't fall into the aisle. She zipped her purse and wedged it between Lincoln's head and the window. "You get some rest, okay?"

Lincoln nodded, his eyes closed. For a long time he didn't speak, and Luna thought he was asleep. "You're pretty cool," he said.

"Thanks," she said, and lovingly ran her fingers through his hair. "You're pretty cool yourself."

"You remind..." he hiccupped, "you reminded me of my sister Luna."

Luna grinned. "Yeah?"

He nodded, his eyes still closed. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Sure," she said.

"I...I love her," he said. "I mean, you know...not like a sister."

Luna gaped.

A tiny smile touched his lips. "I love everything about her. She's pretty and down-to-earth and kind and gentle. It's wrong, but I don't care. She's perfect. A girl like her only comes around once in a lifetime." He snuggled against the purse. "Don't tell her, though. She'll think I'm a pervert and hate me and I don't want that. It would kill me."

In moments, he was asleep, snoring loudly.

Next to him, Luna stared at the back of the seat in front of her, her cheeks blushing crazily and a big smile on her face. She ran his words through her head a thousand times on the trip back to Royal Woods, her heartbeat increasing on each pass until it slammed against her ribcage.

She's pretty and down-to-earth and kind and gentle. It's wrong, but I don't care. She's perfect. A girl like her only comes around once in a lifetime.

Did he...really feel that way, or was it just the booze talking? She looked at him as though she could find the answer on his face, but she saw only cute freckles. If he did feel that way... She looked away and restlessly crossed her arms. A thousand thoughts swirled through her head. He was drunk, he was mistaken, he didn't know what he was saying, and if he did, well, he was just starting puberty, and puberty is a confusing period. He was beginning to notice girls and he was full of hormones...it had to be hard living with a bunch of attractive older sisters.

What if he was serious?

Luna didn't know. She was just as confused as he was.