DAY 6 – DANCING

As it turned out, being stuck under a mountain of homework on a Sunday afternoon wasn't the worst thing that could happen to Clyde McBride, despite grumbling the opposite as soon as he woke up and realized what he was in for.

Had he been anywhere else but at his desk, furiously scribbling together the one thousand-word book report that was due in two days, he wouldn't have been able to hear something as important as his walkie-talkie crackling to life as a message pierced through the speaker.

"Hello? Clyde? Can you read me?"

Clyde came to life, dropping his pencil as he bolted out of his chair, dived into his bed, and flung his sheets and pillows every which way to get to the walkie-talkie.

Without even waiting to grab it, he pressed the button and replied,"Oh, hey, Lincoln. What's up?"

"I picked up those Ace Savvy playing cards from the comic book store. Wanna come over and-"

"Yes, please!"

Even with as fast and as enthusiastic as he had said it, it was still an understatement about his real feelings—even at the expense of a potential good grade, taking up any excuse to put that tedious assignment on hold for a few hours was like heaven on Earth.

"Okay then, Cly...I mean, okay then, One-Eyed Jack. Let's meet in our secret lair in T-minus sixty minutes."

Clyde gave a salute."Roger that, Ace Savvy!"

He knew that rushing to Lincoln's house wouldn't be appropriate...

At least, not as mild-mannered Clyde McBride. Like any special occasion he was invited to, there was a strict dress code he had to adhere to.

Then again, could it really be strict if he got to dress up as one of the greatest heroes of this or any generation?

Baseball bats? Check.

Baseball gloves? Check.

Baseballs? Double check.

The confidence to smack any of her noodle-armed brother's pitches out of the park and wow him into silence?

That was the first thing Lynn was sure she had on deck as she made her way out of her room and marched towards Lincoln's room. But despite her preparation, she didn't commit to the simple task of minding her manners. As a result, she didn't even bother to knock on her brother's door, opting to twist the knob and open it instead.

"Look alive, Stinkoln, cause we're about to..."

Her words petered out when she got a good look at the colorfully-dressed lumps sitting on Lincoln's bed, cards laid out in front of them. The sight stupefied her for a few seconds before she remembered who she was dealing with.

That's why it didn't surprise her when, instead of shrinking back in embarrassment for being intruded on in his state of dress, Lincoln folded his arms at her and gave her an annoyed look.

"Lynn, there's this really nifty thing called 'knocking'. Mind trying it once in a while?" he asked.

"Hard pass," Lynn replied, grinning at the comeback she had in store for him. "I'm not about to take advice from the guy who wore his underwear on the outside for his geeky costume."

"I had a tight budget back then, okay?"

Lynn just snickered. "Excuses, excuses."

As much as she enjoyed her little spat of teasing, she couldn't deny that this had taken some of the winds out of her sails. There was no way that she could get Lincoln to budge and invite him to the baseball diamond now that Clyde was here (at least, not in a way that wouldn't get her in trouble with Mom or Dad).

"So, looks like you nerds are busy with your secret meeting or whatever," she said sullenly, frowning as she turned to leave. "See ya."

"Hold up, Lynn," Clyde said.

Lynn stopped and looked over her shoulder to find Clyde grinning at her.

"You could always play cards with us," he explained, gesturing out to the pile of cards. "It'll be more fun with three instead of two. Besides, Ace Savvy and One-Eyed Jack always look out for citizens in need."

Lynn had no choice but to smile, even if Clyde's sweetness was overshadowed by his dorkiness.

"Sure, I guess I can trounce you guys in a few rounds of Go Fish or something." But before she made room for herself on the bed, she made sure to add a very important stipulation. "Just as long as I don't have to dress up like that."

Lincoln didn't consider himself a sore loser, but the outcome of Go Fish had him feeling a little bitter. In a twist of irony,the one who wasn't clad in Ace Savvy-related clothing was the one who got the win. Regardless, Lincoln could take solace in the fact that despite him and Clyde only sharing three pairs of cards between them, Lynn wasn't gonna fall back on old habits and start brag-

"AWWWWWW YEAAAAAAAH!"

Lincoln groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. So much for that.

"That's right, chumps!" Lynn leapt off the bed, waving all of her won cards in her hands. "Read 'em and weep! L.J. just took the both of you to the cleaners!"

Before Lincoln could have a chance of reminding Lynn about her promise of being a better sport, she was already in a pumped-up trance and doing the one thing that matched her verbal taunts in the annoyance department.

Victory dancing.

Amid the flurry of whooping and hollering cake a plethora of moves, ranging from wild arm-windmills and fist pumping. Lincoln was able to endure that much without feeling his blood vessels popping and his eyes from twitching.

But then, as if Lynn was trying to spite his patience, she got low to the floor in a squat...

'Noooo...'

...put her hands on her knees...

'No, no, noooo...'

...and started thrusting her hips back and forth like there was no tomorrow.

"Ugh! Lynn, come on!" Lincoln shouted, covering his eyes with his arm while his face reddened. "This is a twerk-free zone! Take it somewhere else!"

He didn't take his arm away until Lynn's cheeky laughter, which had been going on the whole time, started to sound fainter by the second. He grumbled under his breath, shaking his head at how things had turned out. He loved his sisters to death, but they could be really embarrassing sometimes—even with someone like Clyde around, who had almost seen it all when it came to his sisters.

Speaking of Clyde...

"Hey, Clyde," he began to say as he turns to his best friend. "Sorry you had to see th...oooooohhhh."

One-Eyed Jack was officially out of commission. He laid sprawled on his back, a dreamy smile on his face as his one visible pupil was formed like a red heart. Tiny rivulets of blood streamed out of his nose, dripping off his face and into the bedsheets.

To say that the situation had gone from zero to sixty wouldn't have done this brand new experience justice. Suffice to say, there were more pressing matters on Lincoln's mind:

'I just hope that blood comes out of my sheets after I wash them.'