On the sweltering afternoon of August 9, two days after Joe Biden fell flat on his face going up the stairs to Air Force One and gave himself massive, irreversible brain damage, Leni Loud left the dumpy two story house at 1216 Franklin Avenue. The sun shone down from the clear blue sky with nuclear intensity and the dry air grated on her exposed skin like sandpaper. The moment she stepped out from beneath the protective covering of the front porch, the light of day drenched her like acid, and she came to a skidding halt, her sandles scratching the concrete walkwalk.
Oh.
Wow.
It's, like, really hot out here. Maybe I should go back inside.
For an indecisive moment, Leni stood there, not sure what to do. Part of her did want to give up and go back inside, but a much stronger, much more stubborn part of her, wanted to press on. The reason she wanted to go back, she figured, had less to do with the weather and more to do with the roiling pit of nerves in her stomach. She was, like, leaving her comfort zone right now and was a little anxious about it. Someone in her position was likely to be dismayed by anything. Is that a cloud in the sky? Okay, nevermind, I'll do it next week.
Maybe not everyone in her position. See, Leni had a problem with…uh…what's that word? Procrastination? You know, where you put things off that you don't want to do. Leni did that all the time. If she had homework or something, she'd put it off until the last minute, then break her neck trying to finish it at the twenty-fifth hour. She was like Spongebob when he had to write that essay about what not to do at stoplights, only God handed Spongebob a miracle and Mrs. Puff canceled the assignment. That never happened to Leni.
Leni wasn't a scholar to begin with. She had a type of learning disability that made it hard for her brain to process too much new information at one time. She could totally learn new things and learn them quickly, but she had to take tiny little sips. A normal person could read a chapter and kind of download the information it contailed into their brain. Leni would have to focus on a couple lines here and there, reading and rereading before it finally sank in. You could say that the average person had high speed internet in their brain, while Leni…
…Leni had dial up.
That didn't mean she was stupid, sometimes her mouth worked faster than her brain and she blurted things that didn't make much sense. For instance, if you asked her favorite color, she might say "zebra" because her brain would immediately make a bunch of associations that essentially led her to think about zebras and their color pattern. It was complicated and made Leni's head ache to think about, so she usually didn't. It really didn't impede her life except to make her look kinda dumb here and there, which, by now, she was used to, so it didn't bother her.
Why was she nervous now, though?
Leni wouldn't say that other people's opinions don't matter, because they do, but she also wouldn't say that they mattered that much. Like literally anyone, Leni wanted to be liked and respected and stuff, but she wasn't going to live her entire life worrying about people's approval. For a ditzy teenage girl, she was kind of confident and self-possessed in that regard. If people laughed at her or thought she was lame or dumb or something for liking, say, old music (which she kind of did), oh well. Like, think I'm dumb, have fun.
When she first saw the online ad, she thought: I can do this no problem. Now that she was actually here, standing at the head of the walkway with her phone clutched in her hand, Google Maps telling her to walk fifty feet and take a right, she wasn't so sure. What if she looked dumb? What if it took her longer than most to get the hang of it, and everyone sneered and rolled their eyes at her like she was retarded? What was she even doing, this was a bad idea. She should just give up.
No.
Leni had faced a lot of adversity in her life and she had never given up before. She wouldn't start now. Her parents taught her that giving up wasn't an option. You don't get anywhere in life, or achieve anything, if you give up. The going might be tough but you have to persist, especially if you had a disability. Life wouldn't hand you any breaks because you learned at the pace of a snail. It's a one size fits all proposition and you have to find a way to the finish line, even if it means going off road and taking a route no one else uses.
If Leni gave up now, she would be normalizing quitting, and from here on out, if she came to something scary, daunting, or disconcerting - which was a lot of things in her "condition" - it would be easy to quit those things too. She would not allow herself to become a habitual quitter.
For that reason, she pushed ahead, forcing herself down the flagstone walkway to the street and then turning right at the sidewalk. Kids jumped rope and rode bikes, and a man in a polo shirt washed an expensive looking car in the driveway of a not so expensive looking house. More cars passed in the street, heading slowly in either direction so as not to hit anyone, and Leni let out a deep, wistful sigh. She had taken - and failed - her driving test a half dozen times, and was really starting to get discouraged. If she was ever going to quit anything, she thought, it would be that. Her problem was that she got really nervous whenever she was behind the wheel and wound up making mistakes. Her control was really shaky and she found it almost impossible to stay between the lines. She also had a bad habit of bumping into things when she tried to turn, and the moment another car appeared behind her, she got freaked out and went kind of haywire.
Every failure was a crushing defeat and made her feel even sorrier for herself.
She couldn't give up, though. Not just because of principles, but because she really, really wanted to drive. Driving was awesome and it got you to where you were going much quicker than walking, which left more time for fun. It had been a couple weeks since her last epic fail and she was due to schedule an appointment for another road test. It almost didn't seem worth the time and hassle, since she was probably going to spazz out and fail again, but hey, she had to pass it at some point. Maybe this would be that point.
Two blocks later, Leni reached the park. A wrought iron arch stood over the entrance and well-maintained shrubbery flanked either side of the concrete path. Ahead, tall, leafy trees hung over it, sunlight filtering through their boughs and dappling the ground with golden coins of brilliance. A hot, arid breeze stirred the leaves and dried the sweat on Leni's brow. She stopped at a brick outbuilding containing a set of bathrooms and took a long, warm drink from the water fountain. A group of tween girls in mom jeans came out of the women's room chattering and taking selfies for Instagram, and Leni could have sworn she heard one of them refer to her, Leni, as "that old lady by the water fountain."
Uh, hello? I'm only sixteen.
Gasp, did she look old? The last time she checked, she looked normal, but now she wasn't so sure of herself. Worried, she went into the dank, cave-like bathroom and walked up to the bank of sinks along the wall. A smudged and cracked mirror ran the length of the room, and in it, her reflection was dim and watery. She studied her face, turning her head first to the left and then to the right in search of wrinkles and gray hairs.
She didn't see any.
Whew.
Leni didn't have anything against old people but she didn't want to be one of them. She was youthful and attractive and knew it. One day she would have to get old like everyone else, it was a normal and natural part of life, but she wasn't looking forward to it and secretly hoped to put it off for as long as humanly possible. She saw, like, a lot of botox in her future.
Satisfied that she hadn't turned into a disgusting old hag in the half hour between leaving the house and meeting those mean little girls, Leni left the bathroom and continued on her way. She bobbed her head up and down to the music in her head - Leni FM - and looked around at all the things there were to see. Plants, bugs, rocks, and other people out enjoying the day. Leni saw a few of her classmates from Royal County High and nodded to them. She even saw one of her teachers, which was a strange and disconcerting experience. She knew that teachers had lives outside of school and didn't go into a closet until the next school day like a broom or something, but still, seeing a teacher outside of school was weird.
Leni followed the path all the way to the other side of the park and turned right onto Annandale Street, which ran through town before turning into US3. The sidewalks here were broad and lined with trees, and the houses sweeping back from the streets were all big and cozy, most of them dating to the turn of the 20th century. Leni loved this part of town and wanted to live here one day. There was a three story Victorian with canary yellow paint and a private garden up ahead that she had had her eye on for a while. Even though it was big, it was still small and cute, totally her. An old couple lived there and Leni really wanted to walk up to their door one day and ask if she could take a tour. She didn't know how they would react to that, though. It's kind of strange to just turn up at someone's front door like "Hi, I love your house, can I come inside and snoop around? I promise I won't steal or sniff anything I'm not supposed to.
Leni giggled.
Yeah, she'd be better off not doing that.
Pretty soon, the aged houses and wide trunked trees fell away and were replaced by quaint brick and glass storefronts. Tall wrought iron lamp posts, parking meters, and metal signs dotted the way, standing here and there like lanky hitchhikers waiting frozen for a ride that would never come. Hey, honey, going my way? If Leni had a car, she'd give them all a ride. She didn't know where lamp posts and street signs would want to go, but if they helped pay for the gas, she'd take them there.
But it was not to be. At least for right now. She was still licence free and woudln't have one for a long time yet. Sorry, guys, it looks like we're all walking. Leni held her head up high as she passed. Just because she was carless didn't mean that she, like, didn't have her dignity. Despite all of the things about herself that she didn't like - such as being kind of slow in the mind - she was actually fairly confident. She knew that she had a ton of great qualities and that she was a good person. Sure, she had her faults, but hey, who doesn't? There was only one person who didn't and even though her family attended Mass every Sunday, she wasn't so sure that he even really existed. Outside of him, no one was perfect. The best thing you could do was know where your weak points are and own them. And do not, under any circumstances, ever pity yourself. Once you allow self-doubt to creep in, it's all over. You might as well curl up in a little ball and fade away.
Fading away wasn't what Louds do.
When the going gets tough…they get Loud.
That was probably the corniest saying ever, but it was true. Dad always said it and everyone just groaned or rolled their eyes like they did at Luan's jokes, Deep down, though, it was kind of inspiring. It was a good message about not giving up and stuff and Leni often repeated it to herself when times got hard.
Like now.
She was starting to get cold feet again. Back at home, she forced herself on, but now she was beginning to think of falling once again. What she was planning was totally new for her and uncharted territory was always scary. For her, at least. Maybe other people, the ones who aren't slow in the mind, can adjust better, but not her. That was her problem with learning to drive. New things always made her feel nervous and like she was in over her head. Life, however, is full of new things - places, people, experiences. If you can't handle new things, then you might as well retreat into your hidey hole like a hermit and never come out again. Leni did not intend to be a hermit stuck in a hidey hole. There were too many things that she planned to do in life.
What she was currently planning to do was part and parcel of that. The biggest reason she was going to do this…well, one of the biggest reasons anyway…was to purposely push herself out of her comfort zone. If you stay in your comfort zone your whole life, you'll never really live.
And Leni wanted to live.
By now, she was in the heart of downtown Royal Woods. The old Union Hotel stood off to her left while the Palace Theatre occupied its corner like an aged queen; it had been in the same place for almost a hundred years and would probably be there a hundred more. Leni's pace slackened and she craned her neck to look up at the ornate facade. The marquee advertised the latest Marvel movie and the times it would show, and bored looking teenage girl stood inside the box office, staring down at her phone. Leni furrowed her brow, trying to decide whether or not she knew her. They probably went to school together. Unless she lived somewhere else and only came into Royal Woods for work. That was always a possibility too. The seat of Royal County, Royal Woods was the biggest town in ten miles, so a lot of people commuted from the surrounding countryside.
As Leni passed the theater, she pondered its history. It was weird to think that a building could last for so long. It was there long before she was born and would still be there long after she was dead and buried. Compared to it, her life was a twinkling of an eye.
That was super humbling. It's, like, hard to get a big head when you realize some dusty old building is going to outlast you a hundred times over.
At the corner of Main Street and Thurlow Terrace, Leni turned left and waited for a van to pass before crossing. The street here was narrow and lined with houses, some private and others containing businesses. There was a medium and palm reader on the left, and a real estate agency to the right. Her father's restaurant, Lynn's Table, was two blocks over. Leni sometimes waited tables there for extra money. She had always been kind of klutzy but somehow, she was surprisingly good at carrying trays full of food and drinks. Maybe she had some natural ability that she previously didn't know about. If so, it wouldn't be the first time. She was naturally adept at all aspects of fashion design. She literally just started doing it one day. Without knowing what she was done, she sewed a whole sweater and a bunch of pairs of socks.
She was like a…what do they call it? Idiot servant? It's where someone who isn't very smart or particularly talented excels at one thing with uncommon ability. Think a retarded kid who can play piano better than Mozart, or a klutzy Leni type who can fix any problem on any car. She guessed being an idiot servant was better than just being an idiot, though she didn't really like having the word "idiot" attached to her name in any way.
Oh well, she guessed she kind of deserved it, she did fail her driving test more times than Spongebob. She could dress it up any way she wanted and talk about perseverance until she was blue in the face, but it was no one's fault but her own.
That was another thing her parents had taught her: Accountability. A lot of people, especially people her age, didn't want to take responsibility. They passed the buck, made excuses, and shifted blame when they did wrong. It wasn't just young people, of course; it was a lot of people. Taing accountability and accepting your flaws and your blame is hard for most people to do. It was hard for Leni too but she did it anyway because she liked being accountable. It made her feel strangely empowered.
Finally, at long last, after what felt like a lot of beating around the bush, Leni arrived at her destination, a tiny non descript building with beige walls and a plateglass window emblazoned with the name of the place: Mizz Kat's Dance Studio. The window looked into the main part of the studio, where a group of women went through the elegant and precise movements of a complex dance. Leni had been here before but the class she was planning to take was, well, a little different. Her face flushed with embarrassment. Her resolve flagged once more and she again considered turning back. Instead, she took a deep breath and went inside.
A woman sat behind the reception desk, and when Leni came in, she flashed a broad, red lipped smile. "Hi. there. Back again?"
The last time Leni came here was to learn how to tango. It was a long story that involved Chaz, a talent show, and a 500 dollar prize that they planned to split. They, unfortunately, did not win. They were good, but some of the contestants were even better. It wasn't anyone's fault, it was just circumstance.
"Yep," Leni said, "back again. I want to sign up for a class."
"Okay," the receptionist said and handed Leni a clipboard, "just sign your name. Do you know when the next class is?"
Leni checked her phone. "It starts in ten minutes."
"Okay. You can go right in once -"
Leni handed the woman her debit card. The woman took it and swiped it through the card reader while Leni signed her name. When she was finished, she gave the clipboard back and the woman looked at it. Her eyebrows shot up and she stole a quick, scruitinizing look at Leni. "That's, uh…a fun class, I hear."
"It's good exercise," Leni stated. From what she knew, that was absolutely, 100 percent true. It was not, however, why she was taking this class. She probably had room to improve her body - just like anyone else - but she was petite and shapely and feminine, and was perfectly happy with that. When she looked in the mirror, she could not find any flaws that she felt absolutely needed to be fix. There might be some room for improvement if she really thought about it, but she was content with how she looked. She didn't need exercise, then. She had…other…reasons for this.
"Alright, then," the woman said with a little exhalation, almost like she regretted that Leni was taking that class. "It's in Room 204."
"Thank you," Leni chiruped.
She pushed away from the desk and went down a hall lined with doors. The bathrooms were on the left, a little day room with vending machines on the right. There was a water fountain, a janitor closet, and…oh, Room 204.
A piece of computer paper was taped to the window. On it was typed two words in bold black.
Pole Dancing.
Leni went in.
Lincoln Loud's world came apart on a pounding hot day where the air felt like sandpaper in your lungs and every ray of sunshine cut through you like a knife. In all honesty, it had been coming apart for a while and was, actually, all the way apart by that fateful day. He left the house an hour after Leni did and walked the three blocks to his girlfriend Jordan's house. He was unaware of the grimace into which his lips naturally twisted and had no idea that, to passersby, he looked angry. To be fair, he was angry…deep down inside. It wasn't a conscious emotion, and was not triggered by anything that had happened recently. Truth be told, he was less angry and more unhappy. He didn't actively realize that he wasn't happy, it was just a natural state of being for him now. You could say he was dead asleep and lacked all self-awareness.
If so, he was about to wake up.
He had Jordan had been boyfriend and girlfriend for about six months. They got together in a meet cute kind of way that you might see in a cartoon or fan fiction. They were friends for a long time, then one day, there was a dance at school. Neither one had a date so they decided to go together…as friends. They laughed, joked, drank punch, and danced "ironically." They made fun of the other kids, roasted the teachers, and stole entire trays of finger foods to split between them. They had a really good time. At the end of the night, they danced slow and close and the moment carried them away: they kissed and from that point on, they were together.
It didn't take long for things to go sideways.
Jordan was what you might call a "strong and independent woman". That is, she was a stubborn and pigheaded person who refused to compromise or make concessions. He didn't notice it while they were friends, because it didn't really affect him, he supposed, but Jordan was kind of a bully who always had to be in charge and always have her own way, They began to butt heads almost immediately, and soon, Lincoln was just taking her crap because that was easier than arguing with her. And that's what it always was with Jordan, an argument. Sometimes it was almost like she picked fights just to pick them.
In the beginning, Lincoln stood up for himself, but over time, hr just stopped caring. It wasn't worth it. Let the fucking asshole have her way, if it was so important to her. Obviously, she was deeply insecure or something and needed to feel important and in control. Lincoln was a normal, well-adjusted person and didn't need to get high on power to feel good about himself.
That was maybe a mean thing to say about his girlfriend, but sometimes she frustrated him so much that he wanted to super kick her in the face. He routinely threatened to leave her if she didn't cut the bullshit and she would apologize, say, "I know I can be difficult"...and then do it all over again.
She had other traits that made him love her, and he didn't want to give up on what they had over something so trivial as her being a jerk. He was certain that he could make it work, and put undue pressure on himself to make it happen. If they broke up, he had convinced himself, it would be his fault - his fault for not being able to deal with her, with adversity, his fault for not being strong enough or man enough.
It was for that reason that Lincoln held on long after holding on became intolerable. He told himself that he just had to try harder and be stronger. It would have made more sense to just let go and move on, but here was a little secret: Lincoln was stubborn too. He didn't think that he and Jordan were too similar, but they did have some things in common. Enough things, Lincoln was beginning to think, that they were too much alike for a relationship. Lincoln had always heard the saying that opposites attract and even though he always dismissed it, he was beginning to think it was true. If you and your partner are too much alike, you're bound to run into problems. Of course, people who are too much alike get together all the time and they make it work, so Lincoln could too.
Only he and Jordan weren't alike, not really. They shared some similar traits, that was true, but their modes were different. Lincoln realized his flaws and tried to mitigate them, Jordan did not. For instance, he was the kind of guy who could get all worked up over things that really didn't matter. Take the Ace Savvy fandom. His blood boiled when he read a bad Ace fan fic or saw artwork of an Ace ship he didn't like. He saw a pic of Ace cucking One-Eye Jack once and he literally lost sleep over that. A lot of people in the fandom were the same way, only they never stopped to ask themselves "Am I being a fucking retard over this? Is harassing and doxing this fan fic writer really a reasonable reaction to their ignoring canon and having Ace born in North Yankton instead of South Yankton? Is seething for days over an artist putting Ace in a different colored outfit really something a mentally and emotionally stable person would do?
It was okay to be passionate about something, even to be a little obsessive over it, but there comes a point where you need to recognize that you're being a fucking psycho. A lot of people don't know where that line is, and a lot fo them just don't give a fuck. They bury themselves in fandom stuff and can never find their way out again, They get around people just like them and they feed off each other. It was the echo chamber principle. There was no one to keep them in check, no one to question or criticize them, and without being challenged, they lost all perspective and didn't know that they should be ashamed of their actions…because they didn't know their actions were abnormal.
Lincoln could realize when he was drifting too far into left field. Jordan could not. She didn't hide, didn't mitigate, and felt no qualms or guilt about being wide open with her shit. She was one of those people who didn't know where the line was nd even if she went over it…so? Basically, he was more polite and considerate than she was and he resented that. He felt weak and simpering compared to her at first…now he felt like she was just an asshole.
Still, he guessed he bore some of the blame. He could do a better job standing up for himself, he could be more aggressive and combative. He could do a lot of things but honestly, he didn't want to. He was a peaceful person by nature. That didn't mean he couldn't fight or defend himself when he needed to, it just meant that he didn't like the idea of fighting for no good reason. Some people like literally or metaphorically throwing hands, but not him. He just wanted to chill and be mellow. He couldn't do that with Jordan because she wanted to spar 24/7.
Fuck that.
Still, on some level, he cared about her and didn't want to abandon what they had.
As always, he and Jordan were not on the same page.
By the time he reached her house, his shirt was damp and sweat trickled down his face and the back of his neck. He swiped the back of his hand across his brow and took a deep breath. He should have stopped at Flip's for a cold drink. It was a little out of his way but it would have been worth it.
Jordan's house was a modern one story ranch in a quiet part of town where every front yard was the same size and fences couldn't be over 4.2 feet tall. Her mom's car wasn't in the driveway so she wasn't home. It was a toss whether or not Jordan was here. Part of him hoped she wasn't, but another part did.
Going up the walkway, he climbed the steps and knocked on the door.
There was no answer.
Lincoln waited for a click and then knocked again.
She must not be here.'
He turned around and started to leave, but stopped when he heard the faint strands of music drifting from an open window. Huh, that was queer. Jordan was not the kind of person to leave her electronics on when she left the house. Her window was off to left above a thick bush. He walked over and shouldered his way through the vegetation. The sill was just above his head, the music louder, closer. He reached up, gripped the sill, and raised his head over the edge.
What he saw blew him away.
Jordan was stretched out on her bed making out with someone.
Clyde.
Their lips were locked and their hands roaming freely over each other's bodies. Lincoln caught flashes of their tongues darting into one another's open mouths and clearly saw the not inconsiderable bulge in Clyde's pants. He gaped at the sight for a moment with an open mouth and slack jaw, a mixture of powerful though unnamable feelings washing through him. He snapped his mouth closed and got hold of himself with a slow shake of the head like a man trying to wake himself from a subaquatic dream.
From there, head swirling, he wandered away and aimlessly roamed the streets in a numbed state of shock. He eventually found himself sitting on a bench in the town square, the bronze statue of Royal Woods' founder casting a long, cooling shadow over him. He rested his face in his hands and stared down at his feet.
At some point, a big man in a fedora and trench coat sat next to him. His face was cast in shadows and a stagnant chill radiated from him like cold from a block of ice. "What's wrong, kid?" the man asked in a deep, dark voice.
Lincoln knew that you weren[t supposed to talk to strangers, but that shit was for babies, so he spilled his guts.
"I got a cure that," the man said and opened his trench coat.
Lincoln sighed. "No, thank you, drugs are for fags."
The man missed a beat. "Okay, wow, you little jerk, you don't know me." He stood roughly up and stormed off, clearly triggered and offended.
Yep.
He was a drug dealer.
Lincoln thought drug dealers were trash, but now that he thought about it, he felt bad for using that word. You know, the f-one. He wasn't a homophobe, he promised, he just reverted to locker room talk for a second there. Maybe he should chase the guy down and apologize.
He looked around but didn't see him anywhere.
Oh well.
Sighing, Lincoln went back to sulking.
For the longest time, he had no idea how to feel. At first, he was hurt and wanted to cry - he did just see his girlfriend cheating on him - but the more he thought about it, the more he actually…didn't care. He was wounded because she went to another guy, but thank Jesus, he didn't have to hang on and deal with her anymore. He could let go guilt-free; after all, it wasn't his fault. She cheated on him. He had carte blache to drop her like she was hot and his name was Snoop.
A smile touched his lips.
Then it dropped. Despite all of that, he still felt like crap. Mainly, he realized, it was because Jordan and Clyde had both betrayed him. They went behind his back and did what they did. That was messed up. He was a little more upset about Clyde, to be honest. He and Jordan had been more or less on the outs for a long time, but he and Clyde had been best friends forever. They were closer than a brother and sister from West Virginia. They always had each other's backs and were like brothers. He should be more offended by Jordan's role in the affair since, as his girlfriend, they shared a deeper connection and she, therefore, owed him more, but Clyde…Clyde was his bro.
How could he do this to him?
Why would he do this to him?
Lincoln took another deep breath and forced himself to his feet. Now he was crackling with nervous energy and needed to burn some of it off.
From the town park, Lincoln made his way aimlessly south and west, roaming the avenues and side streets of Royal Woods in a fugue. He eventually crashlanded at Flip's, where he made himself a chocolate cherry Flipeez and bought a bag of pizza Combos. There were a couple booths by the window where you could sit and eat your slice of gas station pizza or chicken nuggets that had been sitting in the warmer since 6am. Lincoln copped a squat, as the boomers say, and mindlessly ate his Combos while turning Clyde and Jordan's betrayal over and over in his mind, The bell over the door tinkled and someone came in. Lincoln idly glanced in their direction, and it was Leni, his second oldest sister. He called out to her, and she turned to him. When she saw him, her face lit up and she smiled. "Hi, Lincy," she said and walked over. "What'cha doin'?"
"Having lunch, I guess," Lincoln said.
Leni frowned a little. "That's Combos, Lincy, that's not lunch."
"It is today," Lincoln said.
For a moment, Leni favored him with an incredulous look, then walked away. She reappeared a minute later with her own Flipeez and bag of Combos. Hers were the classic cheese flavor. Simple and good, just like her. She ripped the package open and began to munch on them. Lincoln thought that he was entirely over what had happened earlier but apparently not, because even sweet, simple Leni picked up on it. "Are you okay?" she asked, brow creasing slightly in concern. "You seem kind of…off."
Lincoln lifted and lowered one shoulder, not wanting to lie but also not wanting to tell her the truth. "I'm okay, just…" he shrugged, leaving the thought unfinished between them.
Leni tilted her head slightly to one side. "What is it?" she asked again.
For a moment, Leni hesitated, then he drew a deep breath and let it out in a rush. "Well…something messed up happened and it, y'know, bothered me, I guess. It's not that bad, though. I mean, it has a silver lining and all."
Leni slurped her Flipeez. "What happened?"
Lincoln's face flushed with embarrassment and he absently rubbed the back of his neck, something he only did when he was nervous. "It's Jordan," he finally said.
He told her what had happened, what he had seen when he went to Jordan's house that afternoon, and her jaw dropped. She listened in shock, and the way her jaw hung open somewhat amused him. When he was done, she reached across the table and took his hand in sympathy. "I'm so sorry, Lincy. That's awful."
"Yeah," Lincoln agreed, "I'm kind of glad it happened because I really wasn't happy with her and this is probably the only way I would have given up on our relationship. If not for this, I'd stay with her no matter how unhappy she made me."
"You're too nice, Lincy," Leni said.
That made him laugh coming from her. She was the nicest and sweetest person he knew. Her saying he was too nice was like the Pope telling you to cool it on the religious stuff. Was she wrong, though? Was he really too nice? He didn't think so. He thought his problem was being too weak. Maybe not 'weak' per se, but…
He didn't know. He wasn't in the mood to psychoanalyze himself. He was capable of doing so but, eh, what was the point? He had his flaws like anyone else, but he did think he was a nice guy. Actually, scratch that, he hated that term. Nice guy. Society had ruined the concept of nice guys by applying that label to weird simps who aren't nice at all. He was…hmm…normal. Yeah, he liked that, a normal guy. He wasn't a simp but he also wasn't a sexist who demanded his girl have dinner on the table at 4pm every day. He didn't want to dominate and control anyone, and he also didn't want to be dominated and controlled. He just wanted a healthy and normal relationship.
Perhaps sensing what he was thinking, Leni squeezed his hand. "It's not your fault, Lincy," she said. "Jordan's just a skuzzy bitch. Fuck her."
That statement shocked a laugh from Lincoln. He had heard Leni cuss before - she was sweet and nice, not a plaster saint - but it was rare, and it always threw him off a little. Her expression was genuine, however, and she meant what she said, which heartened him a little. "Thanks," he said. "I'm more upset about Clyde betraying me than about Jordan. I know it's strange, but…yeah." He took a drink. "Anyway, I'll get over it."
Shortly, they finished their snack and left. The whole time they were in there, Flip had been working on a crossword puzzle and muttering to himself about money, sounding so much like Mr. Krabs from Spongebob Squarepants that Lincoln couldn't help but laugh. Flip was very similar to ol' Eugene K. They were both greedy small businessmen with sour attitudes who cut corners wherever they could to save a buck or two. When he was younger, Lincoln used to think that Mr. Krabs and, by extension, Flip were unreasonably greedy, but once he started to study business in his spare time in preparation of opening a summer lemonade stand that never came to fruition, he came to realize something. Running a small business, you had to pinch pennies. With fees, taxes, licenses, and the price of product shooting sky high, you were liable to lose money if you didn't. Most small business owners aren't rich assholes like Mr. Krabs, they just barely scrape by. If they do well, that's only in relation to people who never develop skills beyond the most basic and mediocre ones that everyone has.
Look, you should be paid fairly for your work, but if you're flipping patties and taking out the trash…that's something that most people can learn to do. It's not hard. Those are bottom of the barrel skills and if those are the only ones you possess, you're competition is everyone. Literally everyone. To get ahead, you have to have skills that not everyone else has. Of course, that's easier said than done, but that's the idea.
Lincoln pondered this one the way home so that he didn't have to think about Clyde and Jordan. He would have to confront them both sooner or later - the former rather than the latter - but right now he just wanted to forget it all. He and Leni talked and goofed off as they made their way home, and slowly but surely, his mood began to improve. She was going out of her way to make him feel better, as evidenced by the fact that she even offered to play a video game with him when they got home, and even though Lincoln wasn't the kind of person who reveled in being pitied, he was glad for the effort and attention.
When they got home, they went up to Lincoln's room and perched on the edge of his bed. He plugged the second controller into the console - the good one that he reserved for Clyde - and they played a couple video games, Lincoln eagerly showing her the ins and outs of his favorite games - Call of Honor, Steal That Car, Dario Argento's Deep Red, and D.C. Sniper 2002. Leni was floored by the graphics. "Wow, it's like watching a movie," she said.
"See why I like video games so much?" he asked.
"I sure do now," she laughed.
They talked, laughed, and joked, and when it was time for her to leave - to begin work on another design - Lincoln felt a little twinge of loss. "Thanks for hanging out with me," he said earnestly. "I really appreciate it."
Leni booped the tip of his nose like he was a cat. "Like, any time."
She left the room and Lincoln sighed. Video gaming alone was something he had done a million times before, but tonight, it hit differently. He turned the game off and stretched out on his bed, his hands clasping over his chest in unconscious imitation of a corpse.
Or a vampire.
When should he confront Clyde and Jordan? Should he even do it? If he didn't, he would feel weak and cuckish. There didn't seem to be any point in it, though. He didn't want Jordan back. He didn't want an explanation. He just wanted to put them and their betrayal behind him.
Taking a deep breath, he sat up and looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was still early. He'd take a shower, brush his teeth, and get ready for bed.
Getting up, Lincoln went off to do his thing.
A week went by. Lincoln finally gathered the courage to break up with Jordan. He lost his courage and didn't outright confront her, he just said they should see other people. She didn't put up a fight and didn't even pretend to be upset, for which Lincoln was thankful.
He spent more and more time with Leni. Every afternoon, she left the house for a few hours to go somewhere and was really secretive about it. Lincoln tried not to pry but his natural curiosity got to him and one day, he followed her at a distance, ducking behind trees and mail boxes as he tracked her. She eventually went into a dance studio, which shocked Lincoln. It wasn't surprising that she was going to a dance school, it was surprising that she was so hush hush about it.
Then the next day, he found out why.
It was one in the afternoon and most of the others were out and about on their own unknowable tasks. Lincoln was playing a game on his phone when he got a text from Leni asking him to come to her room. He sat his phone aside, got up, and went down the hall, knocking on the closed door. She called out for him to enter and he went in, finding her sitting on the edge of her bed. Before he knew what was happening, she was sitting him down and saying, "I need your help, Lincy."
"With what?" Lincoln asked.
"I need you to be my test audience."
Lincoln pursed his lips. "For what? Another design?"
Her eyes twinkled with mischief. "Nope. It's something…else."
What then?
She showed him
Oh, she showed him.
She pushed a button on a remote and a metal pole came out of the floor. She ripped off her dress and beneath she wore slinky aquamarine-colored bra and panties. Lincoln's mouth fell open and she began to spin around the pole with the fluid grace of water.
Sexy water.
A wet lump formed in Lincoln's throat and he attempted to swallow. She climbed the pole, wrapped her toned legs around it, and bent back, upside down now. Lincoln's eyes shamelessly crawled over her nearly naked body, from her wide hips to her large, mellon-shaped breasts. His heart slammed against his ribs and he felt himself beginning to get hard. He squeezed his thighs closed, trapping his boner, and thrust his hands between his legs. He knew it was wrong to look at your sister like this, but he couldn't help himself, Leni was gorgeous, and her body turned him on so much he could hardly sit still.
Leni spun and ground the pole until she was panting and red in the face from both exertion and arousal. "Was I good?"
Lincoln swallowed. "Yeah, you were great."
"I've been practicing," she said.
She told him that she had been taking pole dancing classes every day and was both enjoying it and catching on quick. "They say I'm a natural," Leni said proudly.
Lincoln was the first person she had ever danced for. "I was thinking of doing it for money," she said. "You know, professionally."
That made Lincoln sputter. "I don't think that'd such a good idea."
She tilted her head curiously. "Why not? Am I not good enough?" Her voice trembled slightly.
"No, no," Lincoln hastened to say. "You're great, I just don't know if you'd actually, y'know, want to be a stripper. That's the kind of job that will follow you for the rest of your life."
Honestly, as good as she was, the idea of her dancing for horny men, of her putting herself out there like that, unable to ever take herself back, disturbed him. He didn't want that for her and thought that she wouldn't want it for herself if she truly understood the ramification of what she was considering.
Maybe he was being unreasonable. A lot of women stripped and then went on to have successful and fulfilling lives. Still, it seemed to him that once you put yourself out there like that, you were pretty well stigmatized. Especially in a small town. In a city, you could shake your ass on stage every night for years and rarely ever bump into a client outside the club, but not in a small town like Royal Woods. Everyone knew everyone and word that Leni was stripping would spread like clap in a brothel. In the city, stripping might be considered a valid career, but not here - Royal Woods was a conservative place where people held onto the small town values of yesteryear.
He tried to explain all of this to her, and she seemed to understand. "If you want to, go ahead, I'm not saying you can't," he finished. "I just want you to be sure because that's kind of a big deal."
"No, I get it," Leni said. "You're right…but I still kind of want to do it."
"Just give it some thought, okay?"
Leni beamed. "I will."
She swept Lincoln into a tight embrace, and his face buried between her soft, pillowy breasts. The clean smell of her perfume - or maybe it was only her sweet, natural scent - filled his nose and his heart came to a crashing halt in his chest. Heat spread across his face and he was dangerously close to getting hard. Part of him wanted to go with it, but a much larger part was disgusted by his body's reaction to Leni's touch. He held her at arm's length and gave a nervous little laugh. "Happy to help," he said, "now if you'll excuse me, I gotta go…do something."
He was up and out the door in a flash, not giving Leni time to protest or to ask questions.
Why did it feel like he was fleeing?
In his room, he shut the door and leaned back against it. Alone now, and out of sight, he let out a deep breath and ran his trembling fingers through his hair. He felt warm and feverish all over. He pushed away from the door and began to restlessly pace back and forth, his mind and spirit in turmoil.
It wasn't so bad, he convinced himself. He wasn't really attracted to Leni, it was just a natural response to pleasing external stimuli. Flesh was flesh and he had to admit, she was hot…especially the way she moved. He forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down. No, he wasn't an incest freak, he just reacted, the way one might to smelling good food. The human body is a strange and complex thing, especially during that special and confusing time called puberty, which he supposed he was in now.
Feeling better, he stretched out in bed and played on his phone for a while,
But as he did so, Leni haunted the back of his mind.
Over the next two weeks, Lincoln battled his inner demons. He tried to avoid Leni as much as he could, but she specifically sought him out. She was always friendly and outgoing, but after the dance she had given him, she was almost…flirty. She was always coming up behind him and giving him hugs, whispering into his ear, and making excuses to hang out with him. Sometimes when they talked she twirled her golden hair around her finger, giggled, and bit her bottom lip. Was she trying to seduce him?
Nah, he figured, she was just being Leni. His guilty conscious was warping things, that was all. He was paranoid and when you're paranoid, you see danger behind every curtain, hiding under every bed, lurking in every shadow.
During this time, he finally confronted Clyde about his relationship with Jordan. He couldn't bring himself to do it in person so he sent Clyde a long text, the basic premise of which was, "I know what you did and we're no longer friends." Clyde tried to deny it but Lincoln shut him down. He didn't want to argue about it. All of that felt like it had happened in another life and he didn't want to waste any more time and energy on it.
He had bigger fish to fry.
Like Leni.
Was she flirting with him? He didn't know, and he was starting to get really confused. He seriously doubted that she was, though. Again, guilty conscious.
Three weeks after the dance,, Lincoln got his answer.
It was a Saturday afternoon and Lynn had a baseball game at the town park - she was on a team put together by the community center, and every week during the summer, they played teams from other towns. Everyone piled into the van at noon and set out for the park. Everyone, that is, except for Lincoln. Lynn, being a dumb, superstitious jock, thought that Lincoln was bad luck and forbid him from coming to her games. The joke was on her, though, because he didn't want to go anyway. He decided to use the time he had to engage in one of his favorite but least indulged past times: Walking around the house in his underwear. The Loud House was virtually never empty and he rarely got to do this, so he intended to wring every second of enjoyment out of it that he could.
Lincoln was standing in the kitchen eating a snack when the front door opened. He froze and listened to the unexpected intruder. "Lincy?" Leni called.
What was she doing here?
He went out into the living room and she smiled. "Oh, there you are."
"What's up?" Lincoln asked.
"I got sad because you were here alone so I came to keep you company." Her smile sharpened at the corners. "I have something for you."
"What?"
"Come see."
Leni took him by the hand and led him up the stairs. In her room, she shut the door and locked it, grinning salacious at him over her shoulder. His heart began to race as she walked up to him, hips swishing. She pushed him back onto the bed and pushed the button on her remote, the hidden pole coming out to play. She took off her dress and beneath she wore black panties and a black bra. Her body was toned and tanned, the lacy fabric barely covering her chest. He started to protest but she shushed him and began to worked the pole, hugging it, grinding it, swuatting down slowly while licking it. Lincoln's pants suddenly felt tighter and he was warm all over. Leni wrapped one leg around the pole and then spun around it, rubbing herself against it.
Lincoln squirmed in his seat, swallowing hard around a lump in his throat.
Leni stood with her back against the pole and bent at the waist. It was between her butt cheeks now and Lincoln could see her pink, swollen lips pinching it and the fabric of her thong. He was getting hard and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Spinning around, Leni came to him, strutting hypnotically. Before he could protest, she laid her hands on his shoulders and lowered herself onto his lap. She rubbed her core against his bulge and bit her bottom lip with a breathy moan. She ran her fingers through his hair and pressed her forehead to his. Their noses skimmed and their breaths mingled. Lincoln put his trembling hands on her hips and she let out a satisfied sigh. She was soft and warm and the feeling of her grinding his erection made him quiver.
She tilted her head to the side and touched her lips to his. For a moment they stared into each other's eyes, then her tongue swept into his mouth. He kissed her back and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
They tumbled back onto the bed and held each other as their tongues worked in furious abandon. Leni squeezed him through his briefs and Lincoln slipped his hand into her bra, touching and kneading her stiff nipple. Leni mounted him, pinned his wrists above his head, and smiled down at him. She arched her back and placed wet kisses down his stomach. Lincoln gritted his teeth and tried to regulate his breathing. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of his undies and pulled them down, freeing his cock. She kissed the tip, then took it into her mouth. She bobbed her head up and down and Lincoln gasped for air. He splayed his hands on the back of her head and thrust his hips, fucking her throat.
When she finally spat him out, she crawled onto him and kissed his chin. "I have a confession to make."
"What?" he asked.
"I only learned to pole dance for you," she said.
She kissed him again. She sat up, reached behind her back, and unclasped her bra, letting it slide down her arms. Lincoln stared up in wonder at her breasts and she guided his hands to them. Her nipples scraped hos palms and she squirmed into his touch.
Lincoln kicked out of his undies and they got under the blanket. He slipped his hand into Leni's thong and rubbed her pussy, making it hot and wet. She purred and moaned, thrusting her hips up and down. He pulled the thong down and mounted her. She spread her legs in a V and Lincoln mindlessly thrust into her. She let out a sharp gasp and Lincoln gritted his teeth. She was tight and sickly hot and Lincoln's eyes rolled back in his head. Leni wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her heels into his butt cheeks. He cupped her breasts in his hands and began to slowly rut her. She grabbed handfuls of the sheet and lifted her butt off the bed, taking him all the way to her limit. Lincoln hung his head and sped up, his shaft gliding back and forth against her slick walls.
Soon, they switched positions. She knelt on her knees and elbows and leaned slightly forward, sticking her butt into the air. Her middle was pink and slick and its musky smell intoxicated him. He gripped her hips and sank himself into her from behind. They both cried out in unison and Lincoln went faster, pounding into her so hard that his balls slapped her clit with a meaty thwacking sound.
"Fuck me," she moaned, "fuck me, Lincy."
Lincoln went faster still, the wet friction of their bodies rubbing together bringing him to the edge of his endurance. He admired the curve of her back, the way her shoulder blades flexed under her skin; the swell of her hips; her rounded, heart-shaped ass.
He felt himself starting to cum and tried to pinch it off, not wanting the moment to end just yet. Leni chose that moment to throw herself back into him and squeal his name, and he couldn't hold back any longer. Her walls clenched around him and his dick swelled. His orgasm shot from him in a scalding torrent and filled Leni's womb. She cried out again, hung her head, and shook as her own climax ripped through her.
For a while, he stayed in place, catching his breath. He pulled out slowly and their mingled fluids oozed out of her. They stretched out beside one another and held each other in their arms. Both were sweaty and winded, and drowsiness came over them. Lincoln buried his nose in her fragrant hair and they lapsed into a thin, fitful nap. They came awake after a little while and talked about nothing of great import. Mainly about Lynn's game and how her team was getting their asses kicked when Leni left. So much for him being bad luck, huh?
"Did you really do all of this for me?" he asked at one point.
Leni smiled. "I did. You're the sweetest, cutest, kindest guy I know and I've wanted to be your girlfriend for a long time."
That made Lincoln smile. "It's kind of weird since we're brother and sister."
She shrugged. "It's not a big deal for me."
"Me either," Lincoln decided.
Leni hugged him tightly. "I'm really glad Jordan broke up with you."
He laughed. "So am I," he said.
They reluctantly parted and spent the rest of the day longing to be together again. That night, Lincoln lay in bed trying to sleep. Just after midnight, the door creaked open and Leni slipped in. She got under the covers with him and they kissed, "I missed you," he said.
"I missed you too, Lincy," she replied.
They kissed again, more slowly this time. One thing led to another, and before long, she was on top of him, his dick buried deep in her middle. They both thrust for all they were worth, stifling their cries to keep from waking up the entire house.
When they were done, they cuddled and Lincoln lazily kissed the nape of Leni's neck.
Yeah, it was weird alright, but he was telling the truth when he told Leni that it didn't matter to him. It didn't now, and through the years, as their bond and their love grew, it never did.
THE END
