Lincoln entered the auditorium after school to find it bustling with activity. Around the room, he saw a few students he remembered from the signup sheet, and a few who must have signed up after him; Girl Jordan was on stage dancing away, Mollie was spotted downstage practicing her clean and jerk with a hefty-looking barbell, and Flat Tire was in the back row with a trombone, going through the major scales.

But as busy as the auditorium was, it didn't take long for him to pick out Mindy. In the few days since he met her, Lincoln had become somewhat familiar with her distinctive singing voice - smooth and buttery, with a slight midwestern twang - and she wasn't exactly shy about belting, so her voice cut through the commotion without too much trouble. And sure enough, there she was, sitting upright on a seat in the back row.

"Suppose you were a little cat

Residin' in a person's flat

Who fed you fish and scratched your ears..."

Lincoln, feeling a bit mischievous, decided to pay her back for scaring him the previous day. With a grin spreading across his face, he tiptoed up behind her as she sung. The floor behind the last row was uncarpeted, but he doubted that his footsteps were loud enough to cut through the ambient noise. Luckily, they weren't, and before long, he was standing just an inch behind her. For just a few tense seconds, he hovered his hands over her shoulders, before clamping them down and...

"What's up, Mindy?!"

The songstress jumped out of her seat, as the note she was holding shot up an octave.

"Suppose you-EEEEEEEEE!"

On instinct, Lincoln yanked back his hands and backed up an inch or two. Mindy took a moment to catch her breath before turning herself around 180 degrees - and as soon as her eyes met Lincoln's, her annoyed frown flipped upside down into a delighted smile.

"Lincoln!" she cried. "You made it!"

"I promised I would, didn't I?" Lincoln said with a shrug. "A Loud always keeps his word."

Mindy leaped over the back row and gave Lincoln a quick squeeze. "Got a trick to show me, Copperfield?"

"I sure do!" he chirped, having anticipated that very question. He reached into his back pocket, plucked out a diamond ring and held it in front of her face. Mindy flinched at the sight - possibly from surprise, but it may have just been the light reflected off the diamond hitting her eye. Once that wore off, she gave Lincoln a cheeky look, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow.

"Is this the part where I say 'I do'?" she asked.

Lincoln blushed, although in hindsight he should have seen that line coming; after all, Ronnie Anne got the exact same idea the first time he showed the trick to her. After regaining his composure, he clenched his fist, entrapping the ring inside it. While keeping her eyes focused on his closed fist, he gesticulated towards it with his free hand, spouting off some made-up words. He then opened his fist to reveal not one, not two, but three identical diamond rings resting in his palm.

Mindy gasped and began to applaud, but he waved her off. "The trick's not over yet," he said. "Watch this!"

He reclosed his fist, and performed the same gestures as before. This time, when he opened his fist, the three rings were interlocked together. With a confident smirk, he picked up each end of his makeshift chain, held it in front of her face and pulled it taut. Mindy - who, by now, was grinning ear to ear - began to applaud again. With his heart swelling with pride, he took a step back and bowed, thanking his one-girl audience for her kindness. It was rare for him to receive this sort of validation from someone outside his family.

"So how long have you been doing this?" she asked.

"Not too long, actually," he said as he dropped the rings back into his pocket. "In fact, for the longest time, I was afraid of magic."

Mindy dropped her hands to her sides and narrowed her eyes at him. "You're kidding."

"I wish I was," he said, his voice heavy with shame. "At my seventh birthday party, my mom hired this magician, and he did that trick where you... um..."

Lincoln stopped himself midway once he noticed the look that Mindy was giving him; a dreamy smile was starting to spread across her face.

"W-what's with that look?"

"Oh, I'm just picturing you as a little kid," she said, edging closer to him as she twirled one of her braids around her finger. "You must have been such a cutie pie back then."

Lincoln's blush resurged yet again, though he tried to suppress it. "Heh, yeah, my mom always said I was a cute kid," he replied. "A-anyway, she hired a party magician, and- you know that trick they do where they pull a rabbit out of a hat?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"Well, he did it, and I totally freaked out. Like, full-on panic."

Mindy let out a light, lilting laugh, half-shielding her mouth with her left hand.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he said with a roll of his eyes. "At the time I was so embarrassed I wanted to die."

"I can imagine," she said as her laughter died down. "But what changed? When did you stop being afraid?"

"Well, a year after that, Clyde invited me to his birthday party. At first I was psyched, but when I got to the party, I saw that very same magician doing tricks. I almost ran out of the party right then and there, but I didn't want to be rude."

"Oh, wow. Did he recognize you?"

Lincoln cracked a smile as his memory of the experience came rushing back. "Not only did he recognize me, but as soon as he saw me, he stopped the show and pulled me aside for a few minutes. He told me that there was nothing to be afraid of, and showed me how he did the rabbit trick."

Mindy gasped, clasping her hands together. "Awwww, that was so sweet of him!" she kvelled. "So then what? Did you try the trick yourself?"

"Yeah!" he said. "I mean, I used a stuffed bunny instead of a real one, but everything else was the same. The first time I did it in front of my sisters, well..."

His eyes drifted away from hers, as his small smile swelled and blossomed into a full-on grin. "...gosh, you should have seen their faces light up."

Once his eyes turned back towards her, he found that her face still bore a smile - not as big as the one that was there before, but dense with tenderness. Her eyes shimmered, while her lips quivered ever so slightly.

"That must have felt wonderful," she said in a half-whispered tone.

"It did," he whispered back. "It really did." That was really all he could think of to say in response. The way she looked at him set off a storm of butterflies in his stomach; from his perspective, it almost looked like she was ready to kiss him.

"But anyway, that's enough about me," he said, trying to quell the storm brewing inside him. "What about you? How long have you been singing?"

"Since I was barely out of diapers," she said. "See, I figured out pretty early that singing is a good way to get attention. It's like yelling that doesn't strain your throat. So whenever I felt ignored, I'd just start singing Baa-Baa Black Sheep or Old MacDonald."

"Ignored?" asked Lincoln. "How often did you feel ignored?"

"Pretty often. See, when I was three, my mom brought me home a baby brother. And, well, you know how it is - the new baby comes along, and all of a sudden he's the center of mommy and daddy's universe."

"Yeah, I've definitely been there before," he said, scratching the back of his head. "But go on."

"Well, ater a year or two of that, my mom started paying for voice lessons," said Mindy. "She figured that if I was gonna sing all the time, I should at least be good at it."

After she and Lincoln shared a laugh, he picked the conversation up again.

"So that's what it was all about?" he asked. "Getting people to pay attention to you?"

"You know, in a way, it still is," she said. "See, the great thing about singing is that you can't ignore a singer. Painters and writers, they all do fine work, but they've gotta convince people to look at what they make. But when you stand up and belt out a melody, even if you're not that great, you're gonna start turning heads. And that moment when you're up on stage or in the middle of the room and everyone's eyes are on you... I love that."

She took a step backward and turned her gaze upwards, as if she was addressing a larger audience. "When I sing, it's like I'm sending a message out to the world. I'm here. I matter. I have worth."

That was when the butterflies started swarming again. He couldn't help but notice that, on the last few words, her voice started to ache; it almost sounded like she was trying to force those words out of her gullet. For the second time, the conversation was getting a bit more "real" than he had anticipated. He'd have to choose his words carefully in order to break the tension.

"Mindy, I... well, for what it's worth, I think you sound lovely."

The songstress turned back towards him and gave him a weak smile. "Thank you. That's sweet of you."

Lincoln, relieved, was able to calm the butteflies back down again - although her response was a little more curt than what he typically expected from her. He scarcely had a chance to dwell on that, though, before her phone started buzzing and vibrating. She snatched up her phone to see a message from her reminder app.

"Oh, hey, I almost forgot to ask! Tomorrow at 5 they're gonna be adding a Muscle Fish machine to the arcade at Gus' Games and Grub. Want to be the first to try it?"

"Sure!" said Lincoln, his face lighting up in anticipation.

"Great. I'll see you then. I'll be sure to put your skills to the test. No Johns."

"Of course, of course," he said with a nervous chuckle.

Soon afterward, the clock struck three, and all of the talent show entrants were excused from the auditorium. Mindy bade Lincoln goodbye with a boop on the nose before the two of them went their separate ways. He began his stroll home, his heart fluttering in anticipation of tomorrow's activity...

...and then, suddenly, he heard a sharp ping from his own phone, notifying him of a new text.

Oh, who could that be?

He picked it up, unlocked it, and saw a new text from Rusty - one that brought him crashing down to earth.

Hey, Linc-Man! Just locked in the reservations for tomorrow at Jean Juan's. You're still on for that, right?

Lincoln's stomach lurched. In his excitement, he had completely forgotten that he had already agreed to join the gang at Jean Juan's French-Mexican Buffet for Fajita Friday. Either he'd have to come up with a harebrained scheme to fulfill both of those requirements...

...or he'd have to let someone down.


Lucy's day, meanwhile, followed a similar trajectory as the past few did. As usual, she spotted him near the wall of the schoolhouse, positioned away from their revelous, rambunctious classmates scattered across the playground. But though she typically found him seated on the ground with his supplies strewn around him, today he was standing, with nothing but his backpack resting at his feet. Curious, she drew closer. Once Milo caught sight of her, he responded with a timid wave.

"Hello, Milo," she said. "No crafting today?"

"No, sorry, not today. My mom had to borrow my craft box for something."

He then knelt down, unzipped the front pocket of his backpack and reached inside. "But look! I made a bride for Thaddeus. I think she came out really well!"

Before Lucy could properly react to that news, he delicately fished a pint-sized woman out from inside. This one, to Lucy's surprise, was not a finger puppet, but a yarn doll. She had two beady eyes, cascades of jet black hair long enough to graze her waist, and an impish grin. She wore a blood-red, sleeveless dress, and what looked like a sapphire brooch right below her neckline.

"I think I'm gonna call her Amber," he said as he held the doll in front of Lucy's face. She peered closely at his new creation and hovered her hand around it. Like Gus, Amber's relatively simple expression was dense with emotion; she looked confident, self-assured and just a little mischievous.

"Go on, take her!" said Milo. "She's not gonna bite you."

As soon as she got the green light, Lucy took the doll from him and started running her fingers over her. To her wonder, every single part of her - the body, the dress and even the brooch - was made of smooth, supple yarn. She gave her a gentle squeeze, and couldn't help but smile at the sensation of her fingers sinking into the doll's soft, cuddlesome body.

"Do you like her?" he asked. "The brooch was pretty tricky, but-"

"Milo, she's beautiful," she said, running her fingers through Amber's hair. "Thaddeus would be proud to call her his bride."

Milo laughed, taken aback by Lucy's compliment. "Aw, shucks. I mean, I knew you'd like her, but - beautiful? Really?"

"Gorgeous," she said. "Did you really knit her all by yourself?"

"Yep!" he chirped. "But actually, it's called 'crochet', not knitting. My grandma taught me how to do it."

Lucy peered closer at the doll, marveling at the craftsmanship - oodles of string, all bound snugly into one compact body. She could scarcely imagine how intricate the process behind her construction must have been.

"I know it looks impressive, but crocheting isn't that hard," he said. "It just takes some practice."

She shook her head, making her ebony bangs shimmy back and forth. "Don't be so humble," she said, handing him back the doll. "You have a gift. Recognize it. Nurture it. Don't let it die."

"Oh, I would never," he replied, as he let the doll rest in his palm. "These dolls are a big part of my life, you know."

A big part of his life? Lucy had always suspected that dollmaking was more than just a hobby to Milo - and now, it seemed, her suspicions were being confirmed. "Tell me more," she said, her voice seized with intrigue.

His gaze drifted outwards, away from Lucy and towards the gaggles of other children at play. The ten to twenty feet between our duo and the rest of the class may as well have been a mile, for all the acknowledgement the two groups gave each other.

"I got into it when I was in kindergarten," hs said. "Sometimes I got lonely when the other kids didn't want to play with me. So I started making dolls like these to keep me company. Every day I'd make more and more dolls, and I got better and better."

His attention then shifted away from the riff-raff and down towards his newest, proudest creation - the raven-haired doll resting in his hand.

"That's what I like about dolls and puppets," he said as he caressed Amber's forehead. "They won't push you away or call you weird. They like you for who you are and they'll stay by your side no matter what."

Lucy's heart quivered in response to the poignancy of his words. Her feelings intensified once she caught a glimpse of his face, and saw that he bore a fragile, trembling smile. She ached to do something - anything - that would give him the reassurance he needed. Her throught tightened up as her mind scrambled for the right words.

"Milo... I-"

His eyes turned towards her. "Hmm?"

Dang it. Now she was on the spot. Left with no further time to pick her words, she simply let them pour out of her.

"Milo, you know, I... I've been there before. My classmates used to think I was weird, too. I mean, they still do, but it doesn't bother me anymore, because, well..."

She took tentative steps towards the young boy, with her hands clasped in front of her. "...because I have friends now. Friends like you."

She stared into his wide, timid eyes, and he gave her a smile - this one stronger, healthier, more robust than the one he had a moment earlier. Emboldened, she continued.

"We're not weird, Milo. We're just cursed to live in a world where most people don't understand us."

Milo shyly averted her gaze and started twirling one of his curly blonde locks around his finger. "Well... I'm glad you do, at least."

Lucy took a step towards him, and could feel the warmth radiating off of his body. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that his shirt was riding up a bit more than usual, exposing his belly button. In that moment - for reasons she didn't understand - she felt an odd compulsion to poke him.

To tickle him. To squeeze him. To hold him. To be held by him.

Her heartbeat accelerated, and her breaths became shorter and more labored. This wasn't the first time she had romantic feelings for a boy, but this - this primal desire for physical contact - was foreign to her. She had to take a step back.

"Are you okay, Lucy?" he asked, eyeing her with some concern.

"I-I'm fine," she gasped. "I just - I-"

RING

Mercifully, the bell rang just in time.

"Aw, shucks, out of time," he said. "This was nice, though. It's always a pleasure to see you."

He placed Amber into Lucy's open hand, zipped up his bag and started back towards the schoolhouse. "And hey! Maybe tomorrow I can bring my needles and show you how to crochet!"

"S-sure, that'd be great," she said, clutching onto the doll. She stared dazedly at him as he disappeared out of sight. Once he did, she looked down at Amber for a couple of seconds before squeezing her like a teddy bear, letting the doll's cheek rest against her own.