Disclaimer: The Loud House and associated characters belong to Nickelodeon and Chris Savino.

Why Love Fails

By Lola Presents

Chapter 8

For the first time since arriving back home, Lola took actual notice of Lana. Something was different about her. Lana still wore a pair of rough, blue overalls, but it was clean. Her face seemed rounder, and her cheeks rosier. Lana's eyes appeared more distinct, and as Lola's moved upward, the latter realized the difference.

Lana had cleaned herself up and cut her hair.

No longer sporting her trademark ballcap and twin ponytails, Lana stood before Lola a near equal. Gone were several years of hair growth. In its place, a neatly arranged bob framed her face, highlighting her cheeks and eyes.

Lola stared up at her twin in disbelief. Not only had Lana just admitted to having feelings for Lincoln, but she seemed to be emulating Lola herself.

"What?" muttered Lola incredulously, her face still moist and full of betrayal. "I don't understand. What about Clyde? And what's with the new look?"

Lana's regret was instantaneous, and the girl fell to her knees to match Lola, looking her in the eye and covering her mouth momentarily with one hand.

"Oh, my god..." Lana whispered. "I'm so sorry, Lols! I shouldn't have said that! It doesn't matter if it's true. I just..."

*Bzzt-bzzt-bzzt*

*Bzzt-bzzt-bzzt*

*Bzzt-bzzt-bzzt*

Lola's phone vibrated in her pocket insistently. She tried to ignore it, but the annoyance continued. Finally, she broke her visual lock with Lana to answer it.

"Yes?" Lola said. "This is Lola."

"Hello, Mrs. Loud?" detective Bryce said. "I have an update for you if you have a moment."

"Of course," Lola replied, brushing her hair over her ear. "What is it?"

"First, the on-site investigators found tracks around your flowerbed. Their size and depth indicate somebody anywhere from fourteen to eighteen, weighing approximately one hundred and twenty pounds."

"Well, that's not surprising," Lola announced. "And it does fit Winston's description."

"True, but there are two problems with that theory," Bryce told her. "First, the brand and style of the footwear used would indicate a female, not a male."

Lola's mind began churning, slotting together the pieces like a puzzle. When one configuration failed, she tried another, all at lightning speed. As a possibility formed in her head, she turned her gaze back upon her sister.

Lana had admitted to being in love with Lincoln and asked what she wouldn't do to have him. The real question was, what WOULD she have done? Lana certainly knew her way around a car. Sabotaging the brakes would have been no problem, and she fit the profile so far.

A sinking feeling formed inside Lola; it felt like something tugged at her guts with great force. Had there been a soundtrack, any onlookers would've heard a distinct sting, followed by a resounding, resonant string section playing some eerie music.

Lana was sitting there, smiling, even though her eyes were welling up with tears, and all Lola could feel was fear. If she were to act, now was the time.

"Ma'am?" Bryce said after a moment of silence. "Are you there?"

"Yeah, sorry," Lola replied, shaking her head. "Thank you for the information, but I must go now."

"Wait, there's one more..." the detective pleaded, but Lola never heard it, pulling the phone away too soon and ending the call.

"Lana..." said Lola in a low, stern tone, dragging out her name. "What. Did. You. Do?"

Lana looked confusedly at her twin and cocked her head to one side.

"What do you mean?" she asked, concerned.

"You're in love with MY man, and you couldn't stand that, so you sabotaged his brakes!" Lola hissed, coming to a stand.

Taking Lana by surprise, the young mechanic nearly fell backward as she attempted to avoid Lola's advance.

"What?" exclaimed Lana, pleading as she hurried back with her knees in reverse. "I would never hurt him! You know that! Why would anyone hurt somebody they loved?"

"They found female shoe-prints at the house. They said it was probably somebody your age and weight, and you're the only one with the know-how," Lola spat, continuing her approach, fists balled and turning white under pressure.

Lana retreated as far as possible, and her back rested against the wall. As Lola finished her reasoning, the princess bound forward, her arm drawn back for a solid punch. However, Lana took advantage of her position and pushed off the wall with her feet, launching her past Lola.

As Lola spun, her twin darted from the room, the door slamming against the wall. Lola scrunched her face and took off, chasing Lana down the stairs and out the front door.

As they passed through the living room, Lynn and Rita, who had been relaxing, came to attention. Lana bolted out the door before they could react, emitting a resounding "Oof" after she exited. Then Lola appeared at the foot of the stairs, heading out.

"Get back here, you bi-oof!" Lola screamed as she ran into someone coming through the open door.

Lola collided with the person so hard that she bounced backward, landing on her butt near the stairs.

"What's going on here?" demanded detective Bryce.

Lola pointed out the door. "Arrest her!" she declared loudly, pointing at her twin, who stood beside the man. "It was Lana! She did it to get back at me for getting Lincoln!"

Rita and Lynn were now at Bryce's side, looking on with confusion and concern.

"It wasn't me!" Lana said, peeking out from behind the officer. "I swear!" "Your sister is correct," declared the detective. "I just came from your house after you hung up on me. I was trying to tell you something important when you hung up on me."

"Really?" Lola said, still flustered with anger. "Well, what was it?"

"In addition to the prints, they found a single black hair in a small pool of fluid on your driveway," the man told them. "I just got the lab report back, which was why I called you. They've positively identified who the tracks and hair belong to."

The room remained silent, and all eyes turned toward Lucy.

"Seriously?" Lucy droned. "First, I'm in love with Edwin, not my brother. Second, if I did want somebody dead, I'd succeed. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a book to finish."

Lucy then stood up and calmly walked from the room, after which all eyes returned to the officer, who cocked his brow at Lucy.

"What a strange little girl," he said. "I'm going to have to keep an eye on her."

Lola pulled her knees up to her chest and laid her cheeks upon them.

"I am so confused!" she declared. "I don't know what's real anymore."

"I expect as much, miss," Bryce informed her. "That's why we don't allow those involved in a case to research things independently. Too often, their emotions are biased and cloud their judgment. Certainly, it tests their patience."

"You were saying, Mr. Bryce?" Rita interjected.

"Right!" responded the detective. "The genetic analysis indicates someone of Hispanic lineage. Do any of you know a Hispanic female that may have a grudge against your brother?"

"No..." they all said in unison. "It can't be..."

"It can't be, what?" the man inquired.

Before anybody could explain, the door opened, and Lori came rushing in, panting and holding Lorianne on her hip, with Bobby following.

"WE KNOW WHO DID IT!" she cried, only then noticing the officer. "Who the hell are you?"

"Lori," said Rita, introducing them. "This is detective Bryce, the detective in charge of the case. Bryce; my eldest, Lori."

Lori began divulging what she knew as the man wrote everything in detail.

"We had just finished dinner when Abuela asked me how Lincoln was since I hadn't mentioned him for a while," Lori began. "That's when I told them about the accident. Then, Ronnie Anne asked if he was alright. I told her that he was banged up but would survive. She left the table and went to her room. I didn't think much of it, figuring she got saddened by it. So, I excused myself and went to check on her."

"And then?" prodded Bryce once Lori paused for breath.

"And then, I was about to knock, but I heard a pounding noise, so I listened for a minute," Lori explained. "She was punching something in her room, cursing at herself. She said, 'Goddamnit, how did that little fuckwad survive? He should've been dead! Maybe he'll be paralyzed or something. That'll serve him right for fucking his goddamn sister over me!'"

Lori finally stopped rambling and took a deep breath as she sat down and placed Lorianne on the floor.

"That's what I heard, officer," Lori said after regaining her breath.

Bryce followed up Lori's rant with questions regarding Lincoln and Ronnie's past, how long it had been, how involved they were, and so on. Finally, he had everything he needed and packed his things.

"Thank you, folks," he announced, heading for the door. "I believe we can wrap this case up. I'll be in touch once we make an arrest."

After some much-needed apologies from Lola and Lana, the former decided she needed some fresh air to think and possibly put things into perspective. A lot had happened, and Lola began to understand herself better than before. Yet, things were very vague, and she needed something. After grabbing her taser, still in her now-defunct pink jeep, she headed out into the evening air.

Lola wandered around for quite a while, oblivious to her surroundings. She replayed all that had occurred, trying to make sense of everything. She recalled every detail of the events and what she learned about herself, her family, and Lincoln.

She had changed a lot over the years, yet traces remained of her past self.

Lola didn't like it and hated herself for not ridding herself of her childhood crutches. Lucy and Lana often complained about not being normal and wanted to be more like her, outgoing and well-liked. Yet, Lola wanted to be more like them; selfless and caring. If only there were a place she could go for answers.

Lola stopped to look at a moth fluttering by a lamppost, admiring the beauty of nature, only for it to bolt off. She followed its path with interest, and it eventually landed on the handle of a familiar door. Looking up, Lola realized she was standing in front of her childhood church and decided to enter despite not being religious.

Surprisingly, the door opened, and Lola stepped into the sanctuary, sitting in the second pew on the left, near the front. Her gaze lifted toward the statue on the wall behind the podium, and she began crying.

"What's the matter, dear?" asked the pastor as he sat in the first pew, looking back at her, his arm resting on the wooden seat.

"Oh," gasped Lola. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize anyone was here."

"It's quite alright," the man said. "I'm almost always here, just in case someone in need comes by. So, what is it you seek?"

"Answers, I suppose," Lola shrugged. "Hope? Tell me, how does one become selfless?"

"I see," the pastor said. "Those are broad questions. How about you start at the beginning."

Lola wasn't sure why, but she felt comfortable around the pastor. It wasn't that she'd known him for years; she had. It was the sincerity and calmness in his tone. In any case, the young mother explained the situation as briefly as possible.

"I understand," pastor Richards said, nodding. "That is indeed a lot to carry around. I'm afraid no easy answers are waiting for you."

"I know," replied Lola. "But why would God allow this to happen? To Lincoln and me?"

The pastor pressed his lips together for a moment gathering his thoughts.

"It isn't that he allows or denies anything," he explained. "He gave us all free will, and it's up to us to do what's right. Unfortunately, some people forget that we are all bound as one. Those that forget that often go down the wrong path."

"How do you do it?" Lola asked, remembering some things she'd heard. "I know you lost your wife a few years ago, and your son came home from Iraq without a leg. But I've never seen you without a smile, even as you donated money to homeless children at one of my pageants. How do you keep such spirits with so much suffering about?"

Pastor Richards smiled broadly.

"My dear, how would you ever know happiness without suffering?" he asked the young girl. "You see, I never lost my wife. I know exactly where she is," he said, tapping his chest. "And my son's injuries only made him stronger in other aspects. It's my pleasure to help those in need."

"I don't understand," Lola said, looking defeated. "Well, kind of..."

"Think of it this way," the pastor said, trying a new approach. "People everywhere have ideas about who and what God is, and they don't always agree. But, for a moment, think of God as a ball of clay, a universal consciousness, if you will. Now, imagine a colander, one of those bowls with holes in it that one uses to drain noodles, separating the clay from what we know as the real world."

Lola furrowed her brows but did as instructed. "Go on," she prodded.

"Alright, now, the mass of clay is too big to fit through to experience the real world," he continued. "Instead, we press it against the colander, and little protrusions come through the holes, separate yet still connected behind the scenes. Those are our souls. So, whatever you do to one of them, you do to all. Do you understand?"

"Because they're still part of the whole?" Lola queried.

"Exactly," pastor Richards said.

"That's it?" Lola sighed. "No scripture or pompously force-feeding doctrine to me?"

"Nope," he said. "That's it. People can personify things how they wish. Whatever works best for them, but underneath it all, it's the same."

It was like someone lifted a blinder from Lola's mind and heart. Her presence wasn't a sole experience but one shared with everybody else, and she began crying.

If only somebody had explained this to her earlier, maybe she wouldn't have spent so many years alienating herself from her friends and family. She'd been horrible to them along the way and only now felt the weight of it all.

"I'm sorry, pastor," Lola whimpered. "I'm so, so sorry."

The pastor reached over and patted her arm.

"It's quite alright, Lola," he said, still smiling. "I feel things will get better for you from here on out."

"You remember me?" Lola gasped.

"Of course I do," the pastor replied, chuckling. "I remember everyone I've ever seen enter this hall. Besides, who could ever forget the neighborhood princess roaming the streets in her pink car."

For the first time in days, Lola laughed out loud.

"Now, if there's nothing more, I must close up," he said, looking at his watch. "Even I must go home, and it's thirty minutes past."

"Oh, no!" exclaimed a revitalized Lola. "I apologize. I didn't mean to keep you. I have more to ask, but maybe another time."

Standing, Lola thanked him and began heading out, only to have her name called.

"Lola..." the pastor said. "When you first arrived, you asked me how one became selfless."

"Mmhm," nodded the girl.

"You just answered that question on your own," he informed her. "You see, by cutting your questions short, on my behalf, you took the first step at becoming selfless."

Lola beamed as she nodded and waved goodbye, then headed home to Nova and her family. Her thoughts were now on them, and Lincoln and she prayed for a speedy and healthy recovery.

It was dark when Lola arrived home, but someone had left the porch light on for her. As she stepped through the door, she was surprised to see everyone still up—all except Nova, who slept soundly upstairs in Lily's old crib.

"What's going on?" Lola asked tiredly.

"Nothing, honey," Lynn said. "We were just worried about you and want to ensure you got home safely."

"Yes, and also, we wanted you to hear it from us first," Rita added.

"Lincoln is awake and asking for you," Lori said, beaming at Lola.