Right now, Lincoln Loud was NOT the man with the plan. Lincoln was good at improvising and salvaging awry situations. And even in those situations he couldn't, he was always willing to fess up and take the consequences head on with dignity. He prided himself on both skills.
But this was new territory entirely. Those instances he thought about were always silly things: childish schemes and problems. Just last month, him and Clyde had gotten locked in the Royal Woods Mall overnight over some newly releasing Ace Savvy merchandise. Only on this Monday had he had to fess up to dad about messing up the garage because he was trying to help Lana hide a stray puppy she'd found outside (it'd gone to a good home since, thankfully). This didn't feel like any of those. This felt serious. This felt huge. This stirred feelings in his stomach and mind that put any panic or fear he thought he'd felt before to shame.
Ronnie Anne was pregnant. The little tryst they'd had on her birthday had, despite their efforts not to, created something with a weight way above anything he, and probably she, ever had dealt with.
He'd thought about it. He'd come home feeling flush with a unique sense of permanent satisfaction. But the idea stayed lodged in the back of his brain, occasionally wiggling into the forefront if he had a quiet moment. What if? He'd pushed it back each time. He felt confident about the steps he'd taken to prevent it, and he paid close attention to Ronnie Anne during their video calls after that, figuring she would tell him if anything was off. After the first couple of weeks, they had to be in the clear. He'd thought that even when he'd noticed her acting weird the other night.
But it was true, and Lincoln wasn't sure what to make of it. The first thing he was grappling with was a heavy feeling of guilt. Obviously, the first thing that was going to cross his mind when he heard the news was that he'd screwed up. Ronnie Anne didn't seem to think so, but Lincoln wasn't so sure. He had to get rid of the condom after they were done and it definitely wasn't broken. It had been full though. Was there a spill? Was that a thing that could happen? He honestly wasn't sure, but the possibility frightened him. Lincoln could sense trouble coming for him, and it told him that he was going to look like the screw up here.
Going downstairs to see his mom and Ronnie Anne's parents before he'd even cleared his head was a dumb move; he realized that while they were still at the top of the stairs. But it was a knee jerk reaction out of the realization his sisters wouldn't stay cooped up for long and they'd start to wonder what was going on. His track record on knee jerk reactions went somewhere around 50/50 with maybe a slight lean towards making things worse, but he was praying this time it would lean the other way.
One of them had grabbed the other's hand as they descended the stairs. Lincoln hadn't paid attention to who. They stared straight ahead as they took each step slowly and deliberately, not looking down into the living room even though he could already just feel eyes drilling into him. The front door was right at the bottom of the stairs, and for a moment Lincoln felt the call of the void to just open it and run instead of turning right and face what was coming. The girl holding his hand made him reconsider, and when his feet touched the first floor, they dutiful pivoted him right and towards certain death.
All three adults were standing there with arms crossed and eyes narrowed at them. Maybe coming down here holding hands was a bad idea, but Ronnie Anne's grip told him she wasn't going to let go now. Lincoln averted his eyes, although he secretly felt a little relieved his mom looked angry instead of upset now; seeing her like that had been a real gut punch to him. Dad was usually the one who got emotional, not mom. Annoying or angering them was something he and his siblings did on a regular basis, but he would never imagine disappointing them intentionally or otherwise. He loved his parents.
He thought they were going to sit on the couch, but Ronnie Anne had other ideas. When they passed the chair, she stopped and pulled him over towards it so they could squeeze into the seat together side by side. It only put them a foot further away from the adults than the couch would've, but it was comfy.
"Lincoln." His mom took a step towards him. She looked angry and she sounded like it to, but there was tremble in her voice. "They're telling me you did something when you visited last time. Is that true?"
"Uh…" He should have been terrified, but he felt more embarrassed than anything. This was something he'd only ever talked to his dad about; it was a man-to-man talk. And his dad had given the whole deal to him straight, but quite plainly told him it was knowledge he was meant to use when he was older. Dad had suggested Lori's age, forgetting Lori was already in her 20s. Or maybe it hadn't been a mistake. Either way, Lincoln was both embarrassed to talk about this with his mom and admit to blowing off what dad had told him. He looked over at Ronnie Anne, and she looked just embarrassed too. "We…got together." He mumbled, using his other hand to motion to the girl beside him.
His mom's crossed arms and angry expression started to slacken. "Honey, why?" She asked in a tone that absolutely tore him up. Lincoln's mouth was starting to run dry, but he felt his hand getting squeezed again. Ronnie Anne's parents were glaring at him too, after what he'd just admitted to.
Ronnie Anne had told him to let her take the blame, but that just sounded wrong to Lincoln even though he could understand her reasons. He hadn't been the one to initiate, but he'd gone along with it. It had been Ronnie Anne's birthday-she asked for it on a day meant for her. Lincoln remembered-sparking a brief moment of amusement in this dire situation-how embarrassed she was doing it. It would feel just plain wrong to throw her under the bus over her birthday.
But the selfish part of him really wanted to. He was aware of how bad this made him look. He was going to get in trouble, but he realized he could get in less trouble if he really went for it.
But Lincoln couldn't do that. He couldn't get rid of that guilty feeling he'd done something wrong. More than that, he couldn't throw the girl beside him under the bus when she'd obviously come to him in crisis. He knew-probably more than even her family-how she looked and acted when she was truly scared or conflicted. And right now, Ronnie Anne Santiago was in a REALLY vulnerable state. He was too much of a friend (special friend?) to do that.
And she may have been scared their parents would see Lincoln as a bad person, but Lincoln was just as scared his family would see Ronnie Anne as too 'troublesome' to let him hang out with again. She'd scared the hell out of him when she said her parents were considering keeping them apart. It just seemed so unreal to him when barely a day went by that they didn't communicate in some form.
That was a lot of intention to stuff into an answer, but Lincoln tried anyway. From the first word out of his mouth, he couldn't dispel a notion he had already failed miserably.
"Ronnie Anne wanted to do something special for her birthday," Sitting crammed together, Lincoln could feel the tension melt off the girl's body. "And we'd been talking about it for a little while." The grip on his hand intensified in short enough order to make him wince. "We were going to be smart about it."
"Not enough, obviously." Ronnie Anne's dad broke the silence him and her mom had been holding since they came in. They were really unnerving him, looking that severe. Ronnie Anne had always described them as nice, but they looked anything but.
"We tried!" Ronnie Anne interjected, and her parents glared at her.
"And you got it wrong!" Her mother shouted back. "You got it wrong because you aren't old enough to do these things!" The exchange between them made Lincoln nervous. He didn't expect applause for trying to be safe, but he had hoped it would earn him a little bit of sympathy. None of the adults looked forgiving though.
"Mom, I swear we tried." Lincoln didn't intend to sound like he was begging for her to understand. "I remembered everything dad told me and I learned in school…" He trailed off. His mom wasn't saying anything. She was just shaking her head.
"We'll talk about you later." She brushed all his excuses off. "They came all the way here for something more important." Lincoln looked over at Ronnie Anne again, down at her stomach. With everyone staring at her, she grew uncomfortable and pulled her knees up to her chest. "Lincoln." His mom spoke to him again. "Whatever happens next, you are going to take responsibility for it." What did that mean? Lincoln's heartbeat quickened even faster than it already was-thundering. There was one obvious meaning, but it ran contrary to what Ronnie Anne had already said.
Didn't it? Lincoln's mind tried desperately to catch anything they'd both said to each other up in his room, but it seemed like none of it have stuck to his brain.
"Lincoln." His mother was expecting him to answer. The teen-although he felt like a small boy at that instant-nodded. Ronnie Anne shifted like she was about to get up.
"We're not done talking. Can we go finish?"
"Not yet." Her mom shut her down. Ronnie Anne sunk into her seat. "Something you two need to understand right now is that this 'friendship' you had is over." Lincoln felt cold to his core, and it only thawed slightly as the woman kept talking. "We're not going to keep you apart, but we're not letting you have the same amount of freedom."
"Lincoln, we trusted you by giving you that much freedom and you betrayed that." His mom took over the criticism.
"We thought you two weren't old enough for this to be a serious possibility." Ms. Santiago picked it back up. "But now we don't know what we can and can't expect from you. So, we have no choice to expect the worst." Lincoln, and Ronnie Anne he suspected, felt like sinking into the chair. Lincoln got into mischief, sure, but he was still a good kid. Not anymore, in his mother's eyes.
"This is the last chance for both of you to be honest. We need to know right now if there's absolutely anything else like what happened going on. If you don't tell us and we find out later…" Arturo said ominously.
"No." Lincoln and Ronnie Anne said it together. Nothing with pictures or videos had ever happened. Just talk, nothing but talk. Neither of them had even suggested anything else. Lincoln would've said no even if Ronnie Anne had brought it up first; his room was constantly getting barged into. The only 'act' had been the one in Ronnie Anne's apartment building, a memory that was turning more and more into a regret.
The adults were trying their hardest to stare into both of their souls, looking for any hint of a lie or deception. They obviously could see nothing, so they moved on.
"So," Maria sighed, "Something has to happen next. But that depends on you, Ronnie Anne." All the focus, including Lincoln's, went to the girl.
"I'll figure it out." She started to stand up, grabbing Lincoln's hand. "We're going to go finish talking." This time, she was trying to get out of there before they could object.
"Lincoln." He stopped himself from being pulled away when his mother spoke to him. "Don't try and change her mind."
"I won't." He said immediately.
"And Ronnie Anne, remember what I said. There's not a lot to talk about, so we're expecting you both back in here soon." Her mother warned.
"Yeah, we'll be back." Now she was pulling Lincoln away.
"Where are you having this talk?" Ronnie Anne stopped for a moment.
"Backyard." She answered her father, and pivoted her feet so much Lincoln was sure it was a sudden decision. Through the dining room, into the kitchen, and then out the backdoor. The air was cool, which didn't matter since Lincoln had never taken off his jacket. But it made him aware of just how much perspiration had started building on his head, and the fresh air made him aware of how short of breath he actually was. He wasn't even aware how close to passing out he'd been in there.
He let himself be dragged over to the garage while he tried to understand everything that had just happened. First, he was still alive. Second, his mom knew what he'd done. That conversation was over, but now he was back to where he'd been-dealing with this gigantic revelation. And his mind was still in turmoil.
"Hey Lame-o, still with me?" It wasn't said with her usual rigor, but it was still an earnest attempt to emulate simpler times. They were now leaning against the garage, still holding hands.
"Just thinking…" Lincoln answered honestly. "'Take responsibility.'" Lincoln parroted what his mother had said. Ronnie Anne's mouth twisted into something vaguely annoyed.
"I didn't come here to screw you over, Lincoln." She sighed. "I like you. A lot." She added as an embarrassed mutter. "I like talking to you. I like going to the arcade. Just screwing around and having fun."
"I always like doing stuff with you too." Lincoln had friends here in Royal Woods he did the exact same stuff with, but doing them with just Ronnie Anne felt special, not just fun.
"Yeah, but the thing is those are the only things I like doing with you." She went on, and Lincoln listened. "Those are the only things I think about." She paused, and Lincoln could tell she was really struggling with whatever else she was about to say. "I think about my future, but I don't think about you at the same time." She was embarrassed, but Lincoln thought he got the gist of what she meant.
"You don't think about us being anything besides, uh…" Lincoln broke eye contact to think. Boyfriend and girlfriend were terms both of them (mostly Ronnie Anne) scoffed at. Friends was too simple a term. There wasn't a term he'd ever found that he thought worked, but they just defaulted to friends.
"Exactly." Ronnie Anne cut him off. "I don't think about that stuff and I don't want to think about it." She balled her free hand into a fist and knocked it against the wall behind her and growled out in annoyance. Then she sighed again. "I know this sounds screwed up, but I think I'm more worried about things between us changing than being knocked up." She looked over at him, and Lincoln stared back with what he was sure was a gormless expression.
That definitely sounded kind of screwed up, but it also sounded like she was being nice. In the way only Ronnie Anne was nice, anyway. Lincoln's mind was still swimming, so he had no idea what he was the most afraid of, or even what he was supposed to be afraid of. At this point, his dad finding out was probably at the top of both those lists.
"I think that would be bad too." He responded, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand awkwardly. "I don't really think about things like that either." He did think of her a lot, but he didn't imagine being married or things like that. Certainly not having a baby together.
Although he did think about doing the thing that made babies together with her. A lot, actually. She knew, but he didn't think she knew how often. He felt guilty about it, but it was the truth. Those imaginations had come to pass, and the real-life consequences had come with them.
Lincoln's body did a little spasm as cold fear and flustered heat collided in his stomach. Lincoln had grown up with a lot of babies in the house: Lola, Lana, Lisa (although she grew up fast), and Lily. He knew how noisy, messy, and needy they could be. And each baby had been a family task-his parents, his older sisters, and even he had helped with Lily. And even with all that split effort, it was still a handful of unpleasant experiences that he hadn't had to experience again since Lily was the last child. But the idea of having to do at least half that stuff for a new baby? All the energy and unpleasantness that would cost him? It was scary to him.
"Feel like your going to puke?" The Latina next to him guessed.
"Maybe…" Lincoln said uneasily while his stomach untwisted itself. "Thinking about it freaks me out." Over his sudden nausea, he felt her squeezing his hand.
"We can agree on that." Ronnie Anne said. "I mean, think about it!" Her tone got more forceful. "We both got school. We got chores. We don't have time for something like this."
"No." Lincoln agreed quickly. She kept going.
"And do you have any idea how much it costs? I looked it up. It's like ten thousand bucks to raise a baby for the first year." That was a high number. A really high number. Lincoln actually wondered if it was really true or not. If his parents had seriously managed to penny pinch 10,000$ every year for 11 years, they were even smarter than he thought.
"I only have eight." He admitted.
"And I only got fifteen." She shared her own green woes. "We can't do it." It wasn't a proclamation of despair; it was a cold hard fact she stated.
"So…we won't?" He asked, hoping for an answer that would lift all the weight of his shoulders. But somehow, he knew that wouldn't be the end of his anxiety.
Ronnie Anne said nothing. She just squeezed his hand tighter and stared straight ahead but at nothing. Lincoln waited, ignoring his heart starting to thump faster and faster again. She let go on his hand to turn around and slam both palms against the garage door while leaning in against it. She was clearly frustrated. Lincoln awkwardly reached out to pat her on the back between her shoulders.
"I don't know yet." She pushed herself off back to full height after his gesture of comfort. "I have to choose, and it's not easy. It looks like my options are either ruin my own life, screw you over, or…" She stopped. Lincoln waited to see if she'd complete her sentence, but she just gave out an irritated growl. "I don't want to talk about it here." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, alright?"
"It's fine." It really wasn't fine, but Lincoln didn't know what else to tell her. "Whenever you're ready."
"I don't even know if I'll be ready." She turned to look at him. "They're only going to give us probably an hour. There's a lot to unpack. And no offense Lincoln, but I don't consider this private." At her words, Lincoln felt a familiar tingle on the back of his neck. He glanced towards the house. Several faces were squished against window glass, staring down at him from the second floor. He had no idea if Ronnie Anne had seen them too, or she just had an incredible sixth sense.
But he didn't let that distract him. He doubted they could hear him all the way down here, and Ronnie Anne looked too stressed out for a break; she'd started doing a nervous pacing. "Well, is there anything I can do?" He asked, realizing how limited his options were. Did he have any options or power? He couldn't tell her what to do with her body. Even asking her would come across as just plain stupid of him.
"Just listen. And talk." She stopped and went back to stand against the garage. "You remember what my mom said? About how much there is to talk about?"
"Yeah." Lincoln remembered, and he was pretty sure he understood what Ms. Santiago had meant- at a glance it would seem like it was a simple choice for them to make: ruin their lives, or not. Ronnie Anne must've thought it didn't, and Lincoln was willing to hear what she thought.
"I don't think it's that simple." She hung on that for an uncomfortably long time. "I want things to stay how they were."
"Me too." Lincoln quickly agreed, purposely avoiding thinking about what that statement indirectly implied.
"But I don't think it can." She explained. "You know, I didn't have to tell you about this. I could've solved this"-her tone cracked briefly-"on my own. But I did anyway, because I knew it would just bug me every time I saw you." Her eyes intensified. "It'd be the same for you, wouldn't it? You'd never forget this."
"No." Lincoln shook his head. He definitely wouldn't ever forget this kind of shock, this cold fear, or his mom's reaction. It'd be one of those bad memories you never forgot.
"Then I guess that's it." Ronnie Anne looked up at the overcast sky. "We screwed up a good thing for good." Lincoln wanted to refute that, and he even opened his mouth. But no words came out because he knew she was right. Neither of them were going to forget this, and their families weren't going to either. This was a line that once crossed, you couldn't go back on. At the very best, things would just be incredibly awkward. Lincoln agreed with her: they'd messed up the special friendship they had going on. But did that mean it had to end?
"I still think you're my friend." He said it on impulse. And he noticed it: the beginnings of an annoyed but flattered smile, the same she always did when acted sappy. It barely broke through her moody expression, but it was there.
"My parents kept grilling me about that and asking if we were more than friends." She told him. "They didn't get it."
"Still friends." Lincoln stated, hoping it reaffirmed things.
"Still friends." She affirmed, and it was relieving for both of them. Then she took things back on track, a little suddenly, Lincoln thought. "Look, I don't want to have a baby. That's not the issue." Something washed over Lincoln. He thought it was relief, but it was hard to tell. He didn't feel out of danger. "But the other options freak me out."
"Ah-abortion?" For some reason, it felt like a dirty word. It wasn't a word Lincoln ever said, but he heard it on tv or read it in the news. It was one of those subjects you saw a lot, but didn't have a stake in or opinion on.
"That," She rocked her head in an affirmative way, "Or I can actually have it and then put it up for adoption. And even after one of those, I'll have deal with my parents. I'm pretty sure I'm going to end up doing one of those." She said it, but to Lincoln it didn't sound very convincing, so he didn't think even she was sure.
But she didn't want to have a baby, which should've been good news for him. But it just didn't feel like it. It scared Lincoln to think about, but he realized he wasn't really sure what he really felt. It wasn't something he had an opinion on, and he hadn't had enough time to form an opinion on it.
"You need time to think about it?"
"Yeah." She admitted, and shifted to show discomfort. "And I wanted to know what you would think of it."
"Uh…Does it matter?"
"It matters to me." She stated with conviction.
"I-I don't know!" He was really feeling the spotlight here, just like he'd feared. "You said you're going to decide. Shouldn't you just do what you want?"
"Damnit, Lincoln!" She actually snapped at him, and it made him jump. "I'm asking because I care what you think. That's what friends do! Eres un idiota!" She'd called him an idiot, and not in a joking way either. She looked like she immediately regretted it, but Lincoln still felt hurt.
"I need to think about it! You just told me! If you'd told me earlier, I'd have made up my mind already." Now Lincoln was the one immediately regretting what he said, even if he did really believe it. He'd much rather have tried admitting things to his parents after several days of planning; that's what he did best.
Now they both looked regretful and hurt, and the conversation died while they both looked away from the other's face to collect their thoughts. They didn't let go of each other's hands.
"I already told you it's my fault." She gave in. "I should've mentioned it earlier." Lincoln still didn't believe that.
"Our parents think it's both our faults."
"Yeah, well…" She shrugged it off. "The last few weeks are on me." She let go of his hand and used it to give him a small knock on the shoulder. "You didn't go along with the plan." She grabbed his hand again.
"It didn't seem fair."
"No." She agreed. "But if you want to stay friends, it was the best idea. I hope." She breathed like she suddenly wasn't sure. "I can wait." She jumped back to what she'd asked. "I still got my own stuff to figure out."
"It might take a while." Lincoln said cautiously. Ronnie Anne reached for her phone as a muscle memory, then grunted in agitation.
"My parents took mine. What time does yours say?" Lincoln pulled out his phone and relayed the time, and the Latina deduced they'd only been talking about 15 minutes. "Think you can make up your mind in half an hour?" Lincoln shook his head, and Ronnie Anne blew out a puff of air.
"We'll have to ask them if they can give us more time. Or if we can come back again in a few days. I'll be fine."
"Are you sure?" Lincoln remembered the intensity she'd shown when she first saw him. It seemed like she'd been uncharacteristically desperate for this meeting, and this discussion. His work mind worked fast. "Maybe we can convince them?"
"That'd be great." She looked like she liked the idea for a moment. "But it ain't going to happen."
"It's worth a try?" Lincoln reasoned. He was suddenly feeling a lot more confident and a lot more himself. He was thinking, planning, in his element.
"If you want…" And she shouted in surprise as Lincoln stepped off the garage and pulled her towards the house. "Hey!" She dug in her heels and yanked back, stopping him. "We will have time!" She reminded him.
"If we don't have to worry about running out, it'll be easier to think, won't it?" Lincoln reasoned.
"Well…yeah. But do you have a plan?"
"Yeah!" Lincoln nodded. "I can ask if they'll let me go stay with Lori for the weekend." It was on short notice, but he was sure Lori would jump at the chance to see him or any other member of her family again. He'd be close enough him and Ronnie Anne could still talk. It was still a finite amount of time, but it was more than the 40 minutes they had now. He watched her expression shift as she mulled over it. "It'd be enough time, wouldn't it?"
"Yeah…" Ronnie Anne said uncertainly. "But there might be a problem with that." Then she told Lincoln a little more about how she'd ended up here, how she'd told Bobby first, and how Lori almost found out. By the end, Lincoln was admittedly sweating a little. He felt guilty about Bobby, because Bobby was really cool, but he was mainly scared of Lori. If this came out while he was there, she'd turn him into a pretzel. Literally, this time. Just because she had her own place and family didn't mean she'd lost power over him.
"I've taken bigger risks." Lincoln put on a brave face. Every single thing about this was the biggest deal ever. "If it's this important, I'll take it." She took a deep breath.
"Okay…But let me talk to my parents before you start trying to sell to them. They're in a bad mood and I don't them to hate you any more than they already do."
"Hate me?" That seemed like a strong word, and it was hard to comprehend when her parents, or at least her mother, had always been so friendly with Lincoln's family in the past.
"Okay, maybe not 'hate'" Ronnie Anne shrugged. "But they really don't like you right now. And I'd rather they be mad at me than you. So just play along at first, alright?"
"Alright." Lincoln nodded. He knew how to sell to his own family, but she'd know how to deal with her own parents better. "I feel kind of bad about it." He just had to admit it. She rolled her eyes, but with a hint of a smile.
"Just ignore the hero instincts for right now." She stopped, looking just a little gloomy at the prospect of already going back to their parents. "C'mon." They walked back into the house. Neither was dragging the other. In fact, it seemed like they were carrying each other.
Lincoln heard voices from the living room as they entered the back door, but they cut off before he could make anything out. When they trudged back into the living room, the adults were all in different spots, and Ronnie Anne's mom was just standing up from the couch. Their eyes bore into the two teens as they both squeezed back in the chair like they had before. They said nothing and just stared them down, expecting them to open the conversation.
"We need more time." Ronnie Anne told the adults. The effect was obvious-all three of them inhaled sharply. Ronnie Anne's mom's eyebrows seemed to twitch.
"For what?" She sounded close to snapping in Lincoln's ears.
"We don't want to keep it, if that's what you're worried about." Lincoln was watching his mom's reaction, but he could catch all the adult's reactions at that: Obvious relief. "We just want to figure out how we're going to stay friends." Lincoln slowly nodded along with her. As turbulent as the last half hour had been, he fully understood now what was going on. It was hard to accept, but he understood it.
"That doesn't sound so important." Ronnie Anne's dad commented.
"It's definitely something that can wait." Her mother was no less receptive.
"I think that's something all of us should be involved in." Lincoln looked at his own mom when she started to speak. "Including your father." He nodded meekly.
"Definitely." Maria agreed with the other woman.
"I didn't say I made up my mind!" Ronnie Anne talked over the adults' repeating affirmation. "I just said I didn't want to. I'm not going to make up my mind until I know how we're going to stay friends." Lincoln nodded along with what she said, but he felt intimidated by the sudden atmosphere in the room. Their parents hadn't taken well to that, although he wouldn't say they were angry. They looked more alarmed than anything.
"Ronita, we already said we're not going to keep you two apart." Her dad reminded her.
"How can you not have made up your mind?" Her mom was exasperated. "Ronnie Anne…!" The woman stopped herself, and shook her head. "Lincoln." He jumped a little in his seat, not expecting the woman to address him. Ronnie Anne didn't expect it either; she did the same thing. "Do you consider my daughter a friend?"
Was this a trick question? Lincoln swallowed, paranoia flaring. Would answering that incriminate him in any way? Ronnie Anne knocked her knee against his. "Yes."
"Just friends?"
"Really good friends." That was the wrong thing to say; Lincoln would see the disapproval in his mother's expression. Ronnie Anne's dad just looked confused, and her mom still exasperated.
"If you do get more time, I suggest you two get your story straight on that. Insisting you're only friends is ridiculous." She turned to her daughter.
"…We'll talk about it." She said, and Lincoln felt a different kind of fluttering in his stomach. "So is that a yes?"
"How much time do you think you need?" It wasn't said warmly, but it showed some openness to the idea. In response, Ronnie Anne lifted up the hands they were holding and knocked Lincoln in the chest with them. She was telling him it was his go, and all eyes went to him. He really hoped Ronnie Anne had said enough to make her parents more receptive.
So Lincoln did one of the things he did best: He persuaded.