Lincoln Loud liked to draw - superheroes, spacemen, the occasional, uh, smut pic, and, above all else, landscapes. There was a painting at the dentist office where his mom worked, hanging over the fish tank and facing the front door, that depicted a clear, rushing stream surrounded by dense forest. In the background, tall, craggy mountaintops rose loftily into the heavens, and if you looked close enough, you could just make out a tiny puff of smoke, as if from a campfire or the smokestack of a passing train. Or maybe it was just a smudge of gray that fell from the brush when the artist was painting the sky; he imagined it being smoke at any rate.
He couldn't say why, but when he went to visit Mom after school, or to have his twice yearly cleaning, he was drawn to that painting as if by magnetism. He could stand there for hours staring at it, exploring the woods and the river's edge like a cautious fawn. It made him feel funny, like a warm breeze was blowing through his soul. There were other landscape paintings out there - one in the bank, one in Principal Brock's office - and each one of them stirred the same feelings in his chest: Longing, nostalgia, and envy. He wanted to make pictures like that, to immerse himself in nature and spend hours bringing beauty forth from the page.
Most days, he spent at least three hours at his desk, drawing by either warm summer sunlight or by the soft glow of the lamp, his tongue plastered to his upper lip and his eyes focused on the notepad before him like laser beams. As he worked, he listened to music on a transistor radio he found in the garage - it was Pop Pop's, and the manufacture date on the back was August 1980. It was old and worn, but it had character, and Lincoln liked it. He found, however, that new music just didn't sound right filtering from its speakers, so he kept it tuned to either WKBBL (the oldies station) or K-DST (classic rock). He often switched between the two because neither station played a very wide selection: You can only hear Carry On, My Wayward Son; Jet Airliner; and Brandy, You're a Fine Girl so many times before your head starts to bleed.
At first, he was a stranger to the songs they played, lost, off-balance, and unsure if he actually enjoyed it. Over time, though, he came to really like that stuff: It was simple, honest, and had a quaint charm that he found appealing. A lot of them were love songs, and each one reminded him of Lori, which is probably why he liked them so much.
Presently, August 20, he was putting the finishing touches on a sketch of a waterfall when Don't Stand So Close to Me by The Police came on, which brought a tiny smile to his lips. He heard it a thousand times before actually listening to the lyrics one day - it was about a male high school teacher having an affair with a female student. They're trying to hide it, and he tells her to not stand so close to him in class, Lincoln supposed. The implication being that people might start talking if they acted too chummy together. As soon as it was over, he went right to Lori. I found our song. He had her look it up on YouTube, and they listened to it together, sitting Indian style on her bed with their ears pressed to the blown, tinny speaker. Their foreheads brushed, and Lincoln couldn't help snaking his arm around her hips, even though the door was open and anyone could walk by. This is literally perfect, she said with a laugh. I'm making it your ringtone.
Now, as he sat back from his desk and slapped the pencil onto the pad, he stared at the summer sky and let Sting's tale of forbidden love wind through his brain like reel-to-reel tape. Sting, the lead singer, was a high school teacher in his thirties before hitting it big with The Police, and Lincoln wondered if he ever fooled around with a student like the man in the song. If not, he must have at least thought about it. You can argue that sixteen and seventeen year olds are mentally children (and you'd be both right and wrong, though we won't get into that), but physically, they're mature, so it has to be hard for a grown man not to notice them. It didn't make him evil or gross, though if he acts on it...well, that depends. He didn't know, that was beyond him.
What he did know was that the song was very apt to his and Lori's situation. A little under a year ago, she threw a party and got trashed...then started hitting on him...in front of everyone. He liked it, went to her that night, and, well, they'd been together ever since. Their love, like the love in that song, was verboten and socially unacceptable, and if they were caught, God only knows what would happen. They had the perfect cover - being brother and sister. Who would expect that? Their cover was badly damaged, though, because of how forward she was. All of their sisters were there (all of the older ones, at least), all of them saw it, and though things had returned to normal and no one ever so much as whispered what happened, Lincoln couldn't help feeling as though they were watching him and Lori, perhaps subconsciously. And if she stood too close to him…
Carrying out a romantic relationship with someone who lives in the same house as you was, Lincoln found, both easy and surprisingly difficult. If he and Lori didn't have to hide their love, no problem, but they did, and unfortunately, with eleven other people around, there was always someone there to hide it from. Finding the time to be alone together was challenging, though not impossible. Each night, or every other night, circumstances permittng, Lori snuck out of her room and crawled into bed with him, sometimes just to cuddle and others for hot we-have-to-be-quiet-or-our-parents-will-catch-us incest sex. He wasn't a daredevil, but there was something infinitely exciting in the way Lori straddled him and thrusted slow and firm, her head hung and her face screwed up in dread anticipation, creating just enough friction to get them off and shake the bed but not enough to make noise.
Maybe he was weird, but he had this fantasy where one of their sisters walked in just as he let loose and filled Lori with his cum. Or just before, when they were already too far gone and couldn't stop even if they wanted to.
He loved having sex with her, but he also loved just cuddling under the blankets with her - kind of girly, huh? It was even worse than that because sometimes, he liked playing little spoon and snuggling up against her like a baby to its mother. He wasn't a nervous boy, or a particularly timid one, but when Lori put her arms around him, he felt...good. Safe, protected, loved. If liking that is girly, well, he guessed he was girly (he couldn't be too upset about it...he did have sex with a beautiful woman on the regular). He also liked to hold her, because when she hummed sleepily and nestled up against him, he knew she was feeling the same things she made him feel, and to make her feel safe and loved felt really good.
His favorite position, though, was facing her, that way they could hold each other, rub their noses, kiss, and giggle like dorks. For some reason he had yet to discover, Lori's feet were always cold, and she just loved running her frigid toes up his legs, ten little ice cubes against warm flesh - it made him jump every time, even though he'd come to expect it.
Presently, the song ended and a commercial for a furniture store in Elk Park replaced it. He turned the radio off, got up with a sigh, and went into the hall. It was just past 2 and Mom and Dad were both at work, which meant Lori was in charge, so he'd probably find her in the living room, which served as the epicenter of the Loud family's day. That's where the TV was, and thus, where the people went.
Could he get away with giving Lori a foot rub? He loved it when she stretched out on the couch and laid her feet in his lap. Touching her anywhere was nice, but aside from her private areas, her feet were the most sensitive to stimulation, and rubbing them turned her on. Watching her face as she got more and more flustered, her cheeks going from light pink to deep red and her eyes haze with lust made him feel the same way that looking at a good landscape did, only in the pit of his stomach instead of his chest.
Downstairs, Lori sat in the middle of the couch between Leni, Luan, and Luna and Lucy, Lola, and Lana. On TV, a woman threw the back of her hand against her forehead and swooned as a vampire in a cape sank his fangs into her neck. Blood burst forth and streaked down the side of her throat in thin, red rivulets. "Aw, gnarly," Luna said and crinkled her nose.
"This is disgusting," Lola said haughtily.
"Yeah," Lana concurred, "which is why it's so awesome."
The armchair was free, like it almost always was - the only other person who sat there was Lynn, and right now she was at the park with her friends hitting homers and checkin' out the guys. Lincoln didn't know all that much about the workings of the human body (he kind of ignored those classes because he didn't care), but Lynn was what he thought was termed a late bloomer. Up until the beginning of the summer, she was completely flat-chested and shaped like an eleven-year-old boy (basically, like him). She wasn't still stuck in the boys are icky phase, she just saw them as other people, the way he saw Clyde. Somewhere during the last few weeks of June, though, her hormones exploded - she had breasts now, and acne, and she could pass everything but boy. She'd be watching football...then after a particualyl rough play, she'd jump up and announce that she had to bomb the bowl. Umhm. Sure. "Bomb the bowl."
Anyway, Lincoln crossed to the chair and dropped down with a weary sigh, his eyes instantly going to Lori. She stared pointedly at the screen, but the way the corners of her mouth curved slyly upward told him that she was fully aware of him watching her. At times like this, he liked seeing if he could get her to crack up; she was super serious around their siblings, and while he appreciated it and understood why...he just liked messing with her. He gave an exaggerated stretch and yawned as loudly as he could, eliciting dirty looks from Luna, Lana, and Luan, but nothing from Lori. Hm. He'd have to try harder. "Oh, man, I am tired."
"Go to bed and shut up," Lucy said.
He ignored her. "I am, like, exhausted. This is crazy."
"Shut up," Luna spat.
Lori's lips puckered as though she were trying to contain a smile. Ha. He was getting there.
Swinging his legs over one arm, he laid his head back against the other and snuggled up, then smacked his lips. "Now I'm thirsty."
No one acknowledged him. Why are you so annoying sometimes? Luna asked him once. You didn't used to be like that. To be fair, she was right, but in his defense, he wasn't trying to make Lori giggle back then, and for whatever reason, him acting like a total dweeb was the ticket. She didn't have very good taste in humor, apparently - she probably thought Will Ferrell was funny. Yuck, and Jack Black.
What should he do next?
Probably keep with the theme he started with. He yawned deeply and laced his hands behind his head. "Son of a flip, I'm tired," he commented.
Lori sucked her lips in to keep from laughing and bowed her head, shaking it slowly back and forth. "God, shut up," Luan said.
"Okay, okay, sorry," he said and crossed his arms over his chest. "Jeez." He glanced at Lori from the corner of his eye; she watched him with slitted eyes. You're a dork, knock it off she mouthed.
He started to mouth something back, but Luna whipped her head around and fixed him with a withering look; he turned hurriedly away and stared at the screen, his heart slamming in nervous fear. Did she catch him looking at Lori with hungry intent? God, he hoped not.
"Stop tryna get my attention," she said. "If you wanna be annoying, go annoy Lisa."
Whew. Crisis averted. "Alright, sorry, it's...it's my hormones. They made me randy."
Lori burst out laughing and covered her face with her hands; Luan sniffed as though she found it mildly funny; and Luna just glared.
"What?" he asked. This time he wasn't trying to be a smart aleck. Randy is where you feel like you wanna cut up and act out, right? RIght? "I meant, like, I'm in a mood."
"You meant to say ornery," Lucy said.
Did he? "What did I actually say?"
Luna's scowl softened when she realized he wasn't kidding about not knowing what randy meant. "Look it up," she said and kicked her feet onto the coffee table. She cracked a tiny ghost of a smile as if just now allowing herself to find it funny.
Taking out his phone, he typed what does randy mean? Into the Google search bar and hit enter. The screen loaded and the answer stared him dead in the face.
rand·y
ˈrandē/
Adjective
1 informal
sexually aroused or excited.
His jaw dropped and his cheeks blazed with color. He absolutely did not mean to say that...though it was true, his hormones did make him randy. That's not something he wanted his sisters knowing, though. Except for Lori, of course.
Sighing, Lincoln dropped his phone onto his chest and stared up at the ceiling, feeling dumb and two inches tall.
At least he made Lori laugh, though.
So...
Mission accomplished.
Lori Loud had a reputation among her siblings for being kind of a bitch, one that, to be fair, she kind of earned. As the oldest of eleven kids, it always fell to her to be the troop leader...or the den mother, whichever term you prefer, though she did act more like a military commander than a Mom sometimes. She didn't do it because she relished wielding power over her siblings - she did not...she hated being responsible for this detachment - she did it because if she didn't, the house would literally descend into chaos. Maybe Mom and Dad could keep things together without an iron hand, but she discovered long ago that she could not. She was getting better about not being such a Hiter when she was in charge, but the damage was done - most of her sisters still thought of her as mean...maybe fondly, but still, as mean.
She wasn't though. In fact, she hated hurting people's feelings...which is why, even though she and Lincoln had been together for almost a year, she hadn't broken up with Bobby yet.
That sounded more awful than it really was, or she liked to think. Before she and Lincoln happened, Bobby and his family moved to Detroit to be closer to their family for financial reasons. Bobby's mother couldn't make ends meet on her own and they wound up losing their house to the bank. To be clear, their relationship kind of died with the move. They rarely talked and when they did, there wasn't that spark that was there in the beginning. They were more like friends, and their relationship was something they hung onto more out of force of habit than anything. She was terrified to end it, though, because she didn't want to hurt him. He was a good man with a good heart and the thought that she might break it, and make him bitter, sent ripples of dread through her center.
It had to be done, though. She was with Lincoln, and it was not fair for her to lead Bobby on; she would let him go and hopefully he would find someone else, someone who made him happy and loved him the way Lori thought she once had.
These thoughts had been swirling through her mind for months, but every time she decided to call him and end it, she chickened out. They came crashing back on the evening of August 20 when, after dinner, she got back to her room and found a text waiting for her. Hey babe wondering if you wanna come down before school starts? I'd love to see you.
A twinge of guilt pinched her stomach. She started to reply with an excuse, then stopped. This couldn't go on, and the best way, the right way, would be to do it face-to-face.
Sure, she texted, when? She kept it dry and formal to avoid leading him on further, though, in her defense, almost all of their texts were dry and formal.
Day after tomorrow work?
Yep.
Great.
Lori sat the phone on her nightstand and took a deep breath. She didn't think he would take it hard, but she was suddenly very worried that he would.
She was still worrying ten minutes later when Lincoln poked his head in. All the stress building in her stopped and she smiled. "Hey."
"Hey," he said, coming over and sitting next to her. "Everyone's out back so we should be good for a few minutes."
Because of what she did at that party last fall, she and Lincoln had to be extra careful about hiding their relationship. They didn't hang out alone too much and they didn't act too affectionate with one another in front of everyone else. In fact, she was sometimes afraid to even pat him on the head or give him a hug lest Lynn and Luna take notice. "You sure?" she asked.
"Yep," he replied. "I just wanna, you know…" he held his hand out, and Lori smiled as she took it, threading her fingers through his and giving it a gentle squeeze. She loved how sweet and loving he was. A lot of guys, getting a few minutes alone with their girl, wanted sex - he just wanted to hold her hand.
The memory of Bobby's text came back to her like a rain cloud on a sunny day, and her spirits fell a little. "So," she started, "I got a text from Bobby."
Lincoln looked at her, a shadow of concern crossing his face. "And?"
"I'm going to Detroit the day after tomorrow," she said, "to break up with him."
He nodded understandingly. "And you," she said, "have to come with me."
"Of course I'm gonna -"
"And do the same with Ronnie Anne."
Lincoln and Ronnie Anne Santiago didn't have much in the way of a relationship before she moved, but they had something, and if it had been left alone to develop in the natural course of things, Lori was certain it would have blossomed, like a spring rose in the nurturing light of the sun. They talked even less than she and Bobby, but considering that she obviously liked him at one point, she deserved a definite end the way Bobby did.
She pointed this out, and Lincoln nodded. "Yeah, you're right, I just...I don't think she feels anything for me. Breaking up with her is kinda pointless. Like walking into a place you got fired from six months ago and quitting."
"Ronnie Anne didn't fire you, though," Lori pointed out.
Lincoln shrugged. "She never really hired me, either. So where does that leave us?"
Putting her hands on her hips, Lori cocked her head to one side and fixed him with a look that said oh you. He grinned and laid his hand on her knee. "I'm not arguing," he assured her, "I'm just not sure it's going to work the same for me and her that it will for you and Bobby." He stopped talking and frowned to himself. "What would I even say? Things didn't progress the way they might have so there's really nothing to break off. It would seem kind of weird if I told her we're through."
At least Lori could see his point. "You could just casually mention that you have a new girlfriend," she offered. "Or you could have a heart to heart about how you used to feel about her, then say you found someone new and want to just be friends."
"Ronnie Anne doesn't do heart to heart," Lincoln said, "she does fist to face."
That was supposed to be a joke, since Ronnie Anne managed to garner a reputation as a bully during her brief stint in Royal Woods, but there was more than a nugget of truth in there. Ronnie Anne wasn't what you might call "touchy feely." She kept her cards close to her chest and didn't reveal her emotions very easily. She thought that doing so would make her weak and girly or something. Lincoln wasn't sure. The point was, she had a serious hang up about her feelings and didn't show them all willy nilly like some people. Lincoln could respect that - in this day and age, people give into their emotions way too easily and take their feelings way too far, so it was refreshing to meet someone who didn't wear their heart on their sleeve. On the other hand, he thought she took it a little too far, just like the "overly sensitive babies" (her words, not his) who cried at the drop of a hat and never missed a chance to tell you how they felt. With emotions, as with all things, there is a happy middle ground to be struck, a place where you are perfectly balanced. You show emotions at the appropriate time and in an appropriate manner and don't bottle them up. A place where you can let people close to you know that you love them but not let your feels consume you.
Not many people can find that perfect point of balance.
And Ronnie Anne was one of them.
There was a small part of Lincoln that was afraid to broach the subject of "them" with Ronnie Anne, afraid that it might awaken old feelings and that Ronnie Anne might get upset over being officially dumped. He knew in his logical brain that that probably wouldn't happen (why would it? She had made no sign that she was interested in him at all) but with Ronnie Anne, you couldn't tell. See, she hid her emotions like her name was Hank Hill…but that didn't mean she didn't have any. Quite the contrary, she could be pretty volatile. It's healthy to let your emotions out in a controlled manner, like venting a steam boiler, because if you don't, they accumulate inside of you until you explode. Ronnie Anne exploded a lot, and he worried that she might have some kind of repressed feelings for him that would bubble up to the surface when he told her about his new girlfriend.
He said as much to Lori, and Lori frowned too. "I don't know. I do know girls, however, and if she wanted to be with you, she would have said something by now."
"Would she?" he asked. "Keep in mind, she moved away. If she has feelings for me, she might not think they're worth bringing up since we're so far apart."
Lori nodded. "You have a point, but the heart wants what the heart wants. It doesn't matter if you're half a mile away or half a world away. She would have told you how she felt, or at least nudged you in that direction. She hasn't been nudging you, has she?"
Tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling, Lincoln thought long and hard, going over every interaction he had had with Ronnie Anne since she left with a fine tooth comb and looking for suggestive comments, thinly veiled innuendo, and other potential come ons. "I don't think so," he said at length. To be honest, though, he had no idea. He wasn't very perceptive in that respect. Ladies, look, we boys are dumb. Not only that, but we're taught all this stuff about consent and no meaning no. If you try to be cute and seductive, it's probably going to go right over our heads. Just be blunt and forthright. No, it might not be sexy or romantic, but otherwise, you're just going to wind up going out of your head.
"Then she probably hasn't," Lori said. She ruffled his hair and caressed her hand tenderly along his cheek. "Sometimes you overthink things too much."
"Maybe I do," he relented.
After seeing Lori, Lincoln went back to his room and sank onto the edge of his bed with a troubled sigh.
He wasn't looking forward to this trip.
Needing a distraction, he picked up the walkie talkie from the nightstand, depressed the TALK button, and radioed Clyde. "Come in, Jackrabbit, this is White Hare."
He let go of the button and listened to the crinkle of static on the line, waiting for Clyde's voice to break through the white noise. "White Hare to Jackrabbit, do you copy?"
No reply.
Lincoln sighed again and sat the walkie talkie down. He could always walk to Clyde's house and see if he was around. He could be helping his dads with their taxes, or helping them in their garden. Then again, it was a nice day, and if both Mr. and Mr. McBride were home from work, they would probably have gone yard saling. Lincoln weighed his options, then got up and went downstairs. The others were still outside, each of them doing their own thing but doing those things together. Lincoln texted Lori to say that he was leaving, and walked the six blocks to Clyde's house on Thurlow Terrace. The day was hot and still, and the sun pounded down on Lincoln''s shoulders like a giant death ray in one of those groovy old spy movies. Sweat sprang to his brow and dampened the underarms of his polo. He wasn't albino, as most people mistakenly thought, but he was fair-skinned, and thus burned easily. He considered going back for sunscreen, but decided against it. He'd just tough it out. Like a real man.
Clyde's house sat on the corner of Thurlow and Eagle Street, an uber-modern one story ranch with sidelight windows around the door and an attached garage, A bed of roses lined the foundation of the structure and a gazing ball sat on a real marble pedestal like an offering to some Greek goddess. Lincoln never understood the point of gazing balls, and every time he was here, he paused in front of it and stared into its murky depths in an attempt to see what was so great about it. He never saw anything but his own reflection, however, which, he figured, was pretty great in of itself. Presently, he winked at it and shot it a finger gun. Looking good, kid.
Going up the flagstone walkway, Lincoln rang the doorbell and waited for an answer. A hot furnace breeze stirred the windchimes and sent them tinkling, their melody light and airy. He knocked again and tried to peer through one of the sidelight windows even though he knew by heart that it was frosted. The driveway stood empty, but that didn't mean much.
He knocked one last time, and still, nobody answered.
Before giving up entirely, he went around the side of the house to Clyde's window. He peeked through the gap in the curtain. He had only a tiny sliver of vision, but it was enough to tell that the room was empty. He craned his neck left and right to see if the door was open or closed. Clyde and his dads were kind of OCD: When he was home, Clyde kept the door open, and when he was gone, he kept it closed. If he didn't close it, he would be anxious about it all day. Lincoln didn't know why, but hey, we all have our quirks, don't we?
On his tippy toes, he managed to glimpse the door for a brief second before stumbling.
Closed.
Wherever he was, Clyde was not here.
Damn.
There goes that idea.
Not knowing what else to do or where else to go, Lincoln wound up sucking down a milkshake at Gus's and people watching. The streets were all but empty of kids on his walk over, and, as he expected, he found most of them in the arcade, hiding from the sun and heat among the ringing bells and flashing lights of the many arcade cabinets, some of which were so old that their grandparents had played them. Lincoln wanted to get a few rounds of Street Fighter or House of the Dead in, but there was a line for both, and he didn't feel like waiting half an hour just to be rushed along by the guys behind him. He ordered a slice of pepperoni pizza, but when Gus brought it by and slapped it on the table, he quickly lost his appetite: It was so greasy that it had fused with the paper plate, and the pepperoni was almost translucent. When he picked it up, the slice dripped yellow liquid, and Lincoln's stomach turned. The food here had never been the best but lately it had been godawful. He wondered how much of that had to do with Lori. She had worked here for about six months before they got together. She worked the cash register and cooked pizzas while Gus sat in the back office and did whatever it was he did back there. He didn;t know if it was related to her, since the pizza was okay before she started working here. He guessed Gus was making the pies now, and his skills were lacking, to say the least.
He was just about to leave when Zach and Liam came in. They nodded to him from across the room and made their way to the table, sliding into the booth across from him. "Gonna play some games?" Zach asked.
Lincoln looked into the arcade, which was attached to the dining room. If possible, it was even more crowded now. Kids stood shoulder to shoulder waiting for games to open up, and a couple teenagers bogarted Ms. Pac-Man. One, with messy black hair and a baseball cap with an extra long bill covering his head (compensating for something?) kicked and punched the machine in a rage at losing. His pal, a big guy in sunglasses and a leather jacket, shook his head sadly and chewed on a toothpick like it was a cigarette. "Nah," Lincoln said, "it's a madhouse in there."
"Yeah, it's a little more busy than I reckoned it would be," Liam said. "I say we all go to the creek. We gotta do something to cool off."
Zach ticked his head from side to side in indecision. "I don't know. I don't have my swim stuff."
"Just go in your underwear," Liam said, "it's the same thing."
Zach scoffed. "No it's not. Underwear is thinner. When they get wet, you can see everything."
"What kinda underwear do you wear?" Liam asked, genuinely surprised. "I don't have that problem with boxers."
Now Zach looked embarrassed.
"You wear tighty whities, don't you?" Liam asked with a wicked little grin.
"No," Zach said. It was clear from his tone that he did.
"My grandfather wears those," Liam said. "Us real men wear boxers, right, Linc?"
Lincoln forced a smile and gave a slow nod. "We sure do."
Deep red colored Zach's face. Truth be told, Lincoln wore tightie whities too, and had never had cause to be ashamed of them. In fact, he was barely aware that people even thought one should be ashamed of them. As far as he was concerned, they were normal. His father wore them, both his grandfathers wore them, and Clyde wore them. He didn't see the big deal, honestly, but people are always looking for a reason to pick on you. And sometimes it's not even about picking on someone, it's about having really strong opinions and reveling in tribalism. People just love being on a team and looking down on everyone else on the other team. Shippers vs non shippers, cartoon fans vs horror fans, boxers vs briefs. It got really old after a while. We can't we just let people live their lives?
"You alright, Linc?" Zach asked, concerned. "You seem like you got a lot on your mind."
Lincoln opened his mouth but snapped it closed again. He almost told them everything, but thankfully thought better of it at the very last second. If they found out he had a girlfriend, they would pump him for details. And details were not your friend when you girlfriend also happens to be your older sister.
That was another reason he was reluctant to tell Ronnie Anne. If she took it into her mind to find out who his gf was, she would get it out of him. She could, uh, be very persuasive. The less she knew, the better; same for his friends. "I do have a lot of my mind," Lincoln said.
"Wanna talk about it?" Liam asked.
Lincoln was deeply touched by his friends' concern for him, but he wished they would drop the subject and leave him alone. "Not really," he said. He dropped a five dollar bill on the table. "I gotta get home. My Mom wants me to clean out the basement."
Zach winced and Liam shook his head. "RIP," Liam said.
"Pressing F," Zach said.
"Thanks, guys, I'll see you later, alright?"
"See you."
Outside, Lincoln squinted his eyes against the glare of the sun. After the air conditioning in Gus's, the afternoon felt ten times hotter. He ducked his head against the blazing rays, thrust his hands into his pockets, and hurried home.
Luan Loud was a YouTube star by trade and a prankster by passion. Two years ago, on a whim, she started a YouTube channel dedicated to all the pranks she pulled on her family, and it took off like a toy snake from a gag can of peanuts. The first couple videos got a few hundred views apiece, but the ones where she pranked Lisa all went viral: The one where she shaved half of Lisa's head and painted the bald stop bright green got over 5 million views.
Do you know what it's like to get a taste of internet fame? Luan did, and let her tell you: it was addicting. Watching the likes, comments, and views roll in was deliciously dizzying and knowing that millions of people are out there in stitches because of you defies description. In the span of a month, she went from 65 subscribers to almost half a million. She got a silver play button award and was able to monetize her videos, which brought in a small, though steady, source of income.
Ever since that first video, Luan had been chasing that initial high, but hadn't been able to capture it. She uploaded videos that got tons of interactions, sure, but none of them blew up like the ones where she pranked Lisa. That wasn't for lack of trying, of course. In the months after her big breakout, she filmed herself pranking everyone, getting more and more elaborate, more and more savage, as time went on and interactions lagged. She pranked Lisa about a thousand times, and hit Lincoln a good nine hundred. She even went after Lily once, but got a huge backlash for it: She lost 10,000 subscribers and her DMs were filled with finger wagging and death threats. Right this very moment, that video stood at 1,500 likes and 1.4m dislikes. She would have deleted it but she was afraid that people would think she was trying to cover it up or something. She was already deep in the hole, might as well bite her tongue and not dig herself any deeper.
Being famous had taught her a lot of things, like not to care too much about what people think. Ironic, she knew, but it was true. There's a saying that says you can't please everyone all of the time, and she had found that out for herself. She was able to please some people, though, and that's what really mattered. Deep down, like any creative person, she was needy and wanted to be liked by everyone, but her dream had always been to bring joy and comedy to people the way her favorite comics had brought joy and comedy to her, and she was doing that every single day. Did it matter if she had detractors? Did it matter if she wasn't everyone's cup of tea? No, she guessed, it didn't. Not everyone was going to like her brand of humor. That's just now how the world worked.
Despite this, she did concern herself with how to attract new fans. She was always looking for a way to go viral again and never passed up an opportunity for a good prank; people love pranks. She had driven her siblings beyond the breaking point twice already and had vowed to give it a good, long rest. She pulled pranks in public instead.
That started after Lori and the others held an intervention for her the previous month. She had wrapped Lola and Lana in plastic wrap and left them in their room to free themselves. They inched out into the hall on their stomachs like a couple of caterpillars, and were so mad that Lana, apparently, grabbed a plunger as soon as she was free and vowed to beat Luan with it. Lori held her back, but it was decided right then and there, by everyone, that something had to be done. Luan understood that they were upset and agreed to back off, but none of them fully trusted her, and she guessed she couldn't blame them; it wasn't the first time she had sworn to stop, and it likely wouldn't be the last.
Of course, family pranks were kind of played out. Pranking random people Candid Camera style was the way to go. None of those videos had home viral yet, but they pleased the fans she did have and brought in new ones as well. She decided to leave her family alone for the time being and focus on other things.
But then it started.
Two days ago, Luan was writing a skit for her website. It called for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, an allen wrench, and a rubber chicken. She knew for a fact that there was plenty of bread, jelly, and peanut butter, and was sure that Dad had a whole plastic bin full of allen wrenches in the garage. She did not, however, know where her rubber chicken was. The last time she remembered seeing it, it was lying on the floor near Luna's amplifier, which stood at the foot of hers and Luna's bunk beds. Luan sat aside her pen and notepad - the only way to write cheesy comedy skits, if you asked her - and got up to look for it. She checked her nightstand first, since it was closest at hand,
Not there.
Next, she knelt beside the bed and peered into the darkened space between the floor and the box spring. There was a lot of junk under there, so she couldn't tell at first. She pulled everything out piece by piece. She found socks she hadn't seen in years, lost toys, dirty dishes that she and Luna had sneaked into the room and forgotten about (they weren't dirty when they brought them in, of course), and a thousand other things.
But no rubber chicken.
Huh.
It's always when you need something that you can't find it. Have you ever noticed that? It was, like, a law or something. When you have no use for it, it's right there in front of your face, but the second you go "Yeah, I could use that," it's magically gone.
Standing in the middle of the room, she put her hands on her hips and looked around. Alright, where's my chicken? I need it for this skit. She went off in search of it and tore the room apart, starting with her things and then moving onto Luna's. Finally, with all other hiding places checked and exhausted, she went to the closet and opened the door.
Aha, there it was, way up on the shelf, almost hidden between two boxes. Its head dangled over the edge and its fixed, beady eyes seemed to stare into her soul. Oh, hey, Luan, fancy meeting you here lol. Now you hide. Luan pushed up on her tippy toes and grabbed it. She pulled it down and two things happened almost at once. First, a bucket of liquid tipped from an unseen hiding place and splattered her in warm goo. Next, downy white feathers showered over her, sticking to her skin and face. It happened so quickly that Luan had no time to compute what was going on. She jumped back from the closet with a cry of alarm, and her feet tangled, tripping her up. She went down and landed on her butt, shockwaves shooting through her body and making her teeth clack. She bit down on her tongue and hot pain filled her mouth. She tasted blood and winced against the agony.
Recovering, she threw her arms out and looked down at herself. Gooy black tar covered her from her head down to her waist, and feathers stuck fast in the stinking, hellish mixture. Tarred and feathered. Someone tarred and feathered her!
She needed to get it off fast.
Struggling to her feet, she rushed into the hallway just as Lisa emerged from her room carrying a vial of green, bubbling something. Lisa saw her…and burst out laughing. "What's so funny?" Leni asked and came out of her room. She saw Luan and jumped back with a scream, her arms coming up to protect her face. "Ahhh, giant chicken!"
Fuming, Luan slammed into the bathroom and flung the door closed behind her; it made a whip crack rifle shot that echoed through the house. "LINCOLN!" Dad screamed. "STOP SLAMMING DOORS!"
"It was Luan!" Lola called back.
"SCRATCH THAT. LUAN, STOP SLAMMING DOORS!"
Oh, buzz off, I'm not in the mood for this.
First thing was first, Luan stripped entirely naked and stood in front of the mirror over the sink to study herself. The tar had soaked through her clothes and they stuck to her skin in places, so she had to carefully peel them off to avoid ripping and tearing flesh. The next order of business was getting the tar out of her hair. It had already begun to harden and if she left it in, she might have to wind up shaking her head. That thought brought a cold spurt of dread to her heart, and for the next hour and a half, she washed and rewashed her hair. By the time she was done, it looked okay, but still felt kind of stiff and gunky in places. She had to cut some of it out with a pair of scissors, but it didn't look too bad, for which she was thankful.
Finished, she wrapped a towel around herself and went back to her bedroom, where she dressed in a fresh change of clothes. She called a sibling meeting in her room, and in twenty minutes, everyone was gathered around. "What's this about?" Lori asked. "I'm kind of busy right now."
Luan looked at her siblings, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Which one of you boobytrapped my chicken?"
Everyone looked confused. "Boobytrapped your…chicken?" Lori asked, hesitating as though to try and make sense of what she was saying even as she was saying it. "Is that some kind of sex thing?"
"No," Luan said. She clasped her hands behind her back and began to pace like an SS guard inspecting a new batch of Jewish internees. 'Earlier today, I went to look for my rubber chicken, which I needed for a sketch. It was not where I left it. I found it in the closet, and when I picked it up, tar and feathers fell on me. Someone went to great lengths to rig a trap for me and I want to know who it is."
For a moment, everyone just looked at her…then they erupted into laughter. Lana and Lola hugged each other for support, Luna slapped her knee, Lucy pointed and grinned, and Lily, knowing only that her siblings were having a good time and wanting to join in, clapped her chubby little hands. Luan balled her hands at her sides and bared her teeth. "It's not funny," she hissed. "I had to cut a bunch of my hair off."
They laughed even harder at that, their tones mocking and their eyes dancing with dark delight. Luan spun around on her heels, slammed her hands down on the nightstand, and tried to calm herself. She was getting far more angry than she should over a prank; she knew that, but she couldn't help it. "Look, Luan," Lori said, sobering, "I don't know who did it, but you do stuff like that to us all the time. So it's only fair you get a taste of your own medicine."
Luan bit down hard on her bottom lip to cut off a barbed retort. Lori, of course, was right, and even though she wanted to, Luan couldn't argue with her. She had pulled a million pranks on her siblings, some of them pretty mean. She had dyed Leni's skin purple, unleashed feral raccoons on Lincoln, hung Lucy by her ankles and tickled her until she peed herself, and glued Lynn's butt to the toilet seat. She knew even before Lori had said anything that she deserved to be pranked back, or at least had no right to complain if and when something happened to her.
Taking a deep breath, she nodded and turned. "Alright. You're right. You're 100 percent right. I shouldn't get so worked up over having my just desserts." She donned a big, semi-faux smile and forced a laugh. "Whoever it was, you really good me. If you caught that on tape, let me know and I'll post it on my channel."
No one stepped forward to claim the prank, and Luan scanned their faces, looking for signs of guilt or satisfaction.
She saw none.
"So who did it?" she pressed.
No one said anything.
"Come on, who did it?" she asked. "I'm not mad, honest."
Still, no one fessed up.
Okay, maybe Luan got carried away with her pranking at times, but she always owned what she did, always. Just like she did with that video of Lily. Not doing so seemed wrong to her; wrong when she did it and wrong when it was done to her.
Since then, she had been silently watching her siblings and trying to figure out which one pulled it off. Her first thought was Lisa, since she was a literal genius, but that didn't mean much; the trap was complex, but you don't have to be a literal rocket scientist to devise an elaborate prank; just being of reasonable intelligence is enough, and all of Luan's siblings were of reasonable intelligence, Except Leni. Then again, Luan wouldn't discount the possibility that it was her. The only one above suspicion right now was Lily. She was way too young to do something like that.
Not knowing who had pranked her was really starting to bother Luan. She had to know, and right now, everyone was a suspect. Throughout today, she had been keeping her eye on everyone and waiting for some sign that would point her in the right direction. She had found nothing so far and was beginning to relax a little.
Presently, she was sitting in the living room after hanging out in the backyard. Lucy, Lola, and Lynn were with her, Lola and Lucy on either side of her and Lynn in the armchair that she and Lincoln pretty much shared between them. No one else ever sat there; Luan didn't know why. She guessed it was just one of those customs that people adhere to without thinking too much about. For her part, Luan just liked the couch better. It was more comfortable. A movie was on, some pretty pink princess thing that Lola gave every ounce of her attention, and Luan sighed. She wanted to watch a comedy but Lola gets what Lola wants, so here she was.
Sighing, Luan got up from the couch and stretched. Maybe she'd go work on that routine that she was so rudely pulled away from by her mystery prankster. She rounded the couch, crossed the living room, and started up the stairs.
Little did she know, a black clad figure stood at the head of the steps, just out of view around the corner. They held a tiny remote control with a single button in the palm of their black leather gloved hand, They pulled out the telescoping antenna and hovered their index finger over the button. Luan's footsteps grew louder, louder, loudest of all. When she was almost to the top, the figure pushed the button.
Without warning, the stairs disappeared beneath Luan's feet, replaced by a smooth, highly greased surface. Luan's heart launched into her throat and she barely had time to choke off a scream before she slipped. She hit the ground chin first, her teeth clacking, and then slid down on her stomach, gaining speed rapidly. At the last second, she flopped onto her back and did a complete 180. She smashed into the wall and the top of her head broke through the plaster. Dazzling white light burst across her vision, and for a few seconds, she was out.
When she came too, Lucy, Lori, Lisa, Lincoln, Lola, Leni, and Lynn were kneeling over her, their faces twisted in worry. "Are you okay?" Lola asked.
"What happened?" Lori asked.
Suddenly, everybody was talking at once and jostling to get the gal (or guy) next to them out of the way. "Give her space," Lisa said, "she needs air." She stood up and helped Luan to her feet, dusting her back off. "How does your head feel?"
Luan took stock of herself. "Fine," she said. The plaster was so thin that she barely felt her head going through it. Thin walls was a major problem in the Loud house, one that everyone complained about. You couldn't fart in the privacy of your own room without someone hearing it three rooms away. For that, Luan was extremely grateful.
She could have been killed.
"What even happened?" Lori asked.
"I was going up the stairs," Luan said, "then suddenly, they were gone and I was falling."
"Gone?" Lisa asked. "What do you mean?"
"I mean -"
Luan stopped.
The stairs were back to the way they had always been.
Just normal stairs.
Everyone was looking at her like she was crazy. "Like…in Scooby Doo or something," Luan said, "The stairs flattened and turned into a slide." She knew even as the words left her mouth that she must have sounded insane, but she knew what had happened. "I'm telling the truth, you have to believe me."
"I think you hit your head harder than you thought," Lori said.
Grabbing her hand, Lisa tried to lead her up the stairs. "Come on, let's get you to bed."
Luan yanked her hand away and fixed her siblings with a withering glare. "One of you did this. You're pranking me and laughing about it behind my back."
"Luan," Lori started, "no one is -"
"You're all in on it, aren't you?" Luan asked. Her eyes bulged from their sockets and a fat vein pulsed in the side of her neck. She looked like she was one stiff breeze away from a full mental breakdown. "You're all getting back at me, huh?"
Lori laid a solicitous hand on Luan's shoulder. "I believe you," she said, "I just -"
"Don't touch me," Luan said and pulled away. She ran up the stairs, the back of her neck burning with shame, and disappeared into her room, slamming the door behind her. Everyone winced in anticipation of Dad yelling, but he apparently wasn't in earshot. "Okay," Lori said, "who did it? Lisa? This has you written all over it."
Lisa's eyes narrowed. "I assure you, it wasn't me. I have no desire to participate in something as remedial as a prank war, so called."
Yeah, that didn't really sound like Lisa, but if what Luan said about the stairs was true, the only person around here who could pull that off was Lisa. Lori said so, and Lisa rolled her eyes. "You don't really believe that the stair treads really disappeared, do you? She wasn't watching where she was going, fell, and suffered a mild concussion. It happens."
"I was in here," Lynn said. "So were Lola and Lucy."
"I was pooping," Leni said matter of factly. Everyone's noses crink;rf, and she blinked in confusion, not knowing what they were making yuck faces for. "What?"
"I was in my room." Lori said. "And I know Lincoln was in his. Who does that leave?"
She realized then that Lana and Luna were missing. Lana could probably have rigged the stairs some kind of way; she was very handle with tools and could do almost anything she set her mind to. They both certainly had a motive, but didn't everybody? Luan was a holy terror with her pranks and puns. For a good six months straight, she terrorized everyone in the Loud house in persuit of material for her videos. Before that, she would go nuts every April Fools' Day. The last time, it was so bad that she flooded the entire house and almost got Dad arrested for downloading kiddie porn. The images turned out to not be real - they were crude stick figure drawings with smiley faces and speech bubbles saying "Got'cha" - but Dad got tased and beaten down with a billy club before Luan cleared things up. There was also the time she unleashed a pack of rabid weasels on Lincoln. She had done that sort of thing again and again, and Lori knew for a fact that all of their siblings were tired of it.
None so tired, perhaps, as Lisa, which brought Lori back to square one. Lisa had both the means and the motive, which made her Lori's prime suspect. No, pranking wasn't really her style, but you never really know what someone is made of, or what they'll do, until you push them too far.
If that was the case, then you know what?
Let Luan reaped what she sowed. She didn't mind making everyone else's lfe a living hell, so why should everyone be up in arms because she was getting what she gave? "I have more important things to do than play detective," Lori said. "Like getting ready for my trip." She flicked her eyes to Lincoln and he smiled.
And getting alone time with my boo boo bear.
The next day, Lincoln packed his bag for the long ride to Detroit. Mom was driving him and Lori to the Greyhound station on the edge of town, and from there, they were taking a bus into the city. With stops, it would take roughly three and a half hours. That wasn't so long, really, but the thought of being packed in a crowded bus, likely with no air conditioning, in the middle of August made him want to squirm. This wasn't the first time he and Lori had done something like this; a few months after Bobby and Ronnie Anne moved, they caught the bus and spent a few days in the city over spring break. Lincoln was expecting a rubble-strewn hellhole controlled by warlords in assless leather chaps and sporting mohawks, but the area he was in wasn't too bad. All night long, sirens wailed in the distance and during the day, homeless people hassled you for money, but it was hardly the apocalyptic wasteland Lincoln feared it would be. The ride there and back was the worst part, but that was manageable.
Lincoln hoped to spend the night before leaving with Lori, but Lola took sick with a stomach bug, and Mom was up and down to check on her, so it proved too risky. Lincoln lay in bed with his hands laced over his chest and his lips tightly pursed, trying hard not to be mad and largely succeeding. It had been, like, three days since he got any significant time with Lori and he was on edge. Some guys need their daily cup of Joe, some guys need a good cigarette in the morning, Lincoln needed cuddles with his older sister. Sue him.
His sleep was thin and fitful; he never slept well when he had an appointment to keep the next day. He had a reputation as the man with a plan but he liked to meet life as it came rather than planning ahead. Having plans, even ones he looked forward to, put him on edge, and he was not looking forward to this.
Even if things worked out between him and Ronnie Anne - which he honestly had no real reason to think that they wouldn't - there was still Lori and Bobby to worry about. Unlike Lincoln and Ronnie Anne, they were definitely a couple, so their break up was going to be much, much harder than whatever Lincoln was in store for with Ronnie Anne. How would Bobby take it? Hard, Lincoln bet. He got to know Bobby really well during his and Ronnie Anne's stint in Royal Woods. Bobby was a really good guy; he was basically the cool older brother that Lincoln had always wanted but never had, and Lincoln felt guilty for stealing his girlfriend. Bobby didn't deserve that. Bobby didn't deserve to have his heart ripped out and ground underfoot. Lori said that they had drifted apart, so Lincoln was hoping it would be a relatively clean break.
He really, really hoped.
On the big day, Lincoln woke to the shrill beep beep beep of the alarm. Moaning in misery because he hadn't slept well and wasn't ready for this, he rolled over and slapped the OFF button, plunging the room into silence. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, sat up, and scratched his head. Tepid early morning sunshine fell through the open window and a cool breeze snapped the screen lazily back and forth. Birds rejoiced in the new day, fluttering and twilling like psychos, and somewhere close by, a lawn mower whined, the smell of freshly cut grass scenting the air. All of this only served to make Lincoln sad that summer was coming to an end. In a week, he would be back at school, watching the final days of summer bleeding into fall from the confines of a classroom. That was like watching the seasons change from a prison cell.
Getting up, Lincoln went to the bathroom and took a long, hot shower. Done, he dressed himself in fresh undies, a clean pair of jeans, and an orange polo shirt that still smelled like dryer sheets. He and Lori weren't planning to stay the night, but it was a distinct possibility, so they were both bringing a change of clothes and toiletries with them. Lincoln told her that if they had to stay, she should put off breaking up with Bobby so they had a place to sleep. She laughed but there was a nervous edge to her voice that told Lincoln she had already considered that. She didn't want to sleep at the bus station any more than he did.
By the time Lincoln was done, Lori was up and waiting at the door. The others were behind her so he couldn't give her a hug and a kiss the way he yearned to, so he smiled at her instead. As he passed the line on his way back to his room, he paused to lift a brow at Luan, who hugged herself and looked anxiously around. Her movements were quick and jerky, and one eyelid twitched. She looked like a tweaker, to be honest. "You alright, Luan?" he asked.
"Fine," she mumbled, "just aokay hunky dory.":
That was a bald face lie. Ever since she fell down the stairs, she had been acting weird. She was sure that someone was hell bent on pranking her into the madhouse, and had been jumping at every sound and shadow for two days. Lori said that she deserved whatever she got for all the pranking she had done to them, and Lincoln had to agree. He just hoped that whoever was doing it didn't go too far and hurt her or anything. Pranks are all good and well but as Luan herself had proven time and again, they could sometimes be dangerous.
"You just need to relax," Lincoln said.
"It could come at any moment," she said in a low whisper.
"Now you know how it feels, sis," Luna said.
Luan shot her a dirty look.
Back in his room, Lincoln pulled his socks and shoes on, then grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and went downstairs. He made himself a bowl of cereal in the kitchen, sat at the dining room table, and ate in silence until the others descended upon him like a plague. Lana and Lola argued cartoons, Luna sang "Mercedes Benz" by Janis Joplin, and Lynn talked about someone named Troy Aikman. Probably a sportsball star of some kind.
An hour later, he and Lori piled into the van with Mom. The ride to the bus station was short and simple; it was on a corner in downtown Royal Woods, a small, narrow building with a waiting room and a platform. Mom gave each one of them a hug and twenty dollars, then left. They sat side by side in the waiting room and watched out the window for their bus. Lincoln studied the TV screen above the ticket counter; arrivals and departures flashed across it. "You ready for this?" Lincoln asked as their bus pulled up.
Lori hesitated. "No," she said.
"Neither am I," he grinned and patted her knee. "Come on."
The bus rolled to a stop at the platform and the doors thunked open. They handed their tickets to the driver and took their seats in the rear. Some buses had bathrooms on them, this one didn't. It also didn't have very many other passengers, only a smattering here and there. As soon as they were seated, Lincoln took Lori's hand and gave it a squeeze. She smiled at him, and after a quick look around, leaned in and kissed him.
After a minute, the doors closed again and the bus pulled away from the platform.
With that, they started their trek to Detroit.