Lincoln Loud was a broken man. Tall and slim with pleasant, boyish features and a twinkle in his eye, he had long been considered "cute" by most females who entered his orbit. There was a certain openness to his face that put people - especially women - at ease, and made people like him. He was intelligent, kind, and friendly. He did not consider himself an "extrovert" but he was sociable and enjoyed meeting people and hanging out with friends and family. In that respect, he was an average guy, little different from millions - maybe even billions - of other guys around the world. Some people stand out, whether for good reasons or bad, but Lincoln really didn't, and he was okay with that. He didn't want to be a famous celebrity who couldn't walk down the street or eat in a restaurant without being mobbed; he didn't want to be so disgustingly rich that he wound up living in the stratosphere, so far removed from normal life that he might as well be from another planet.
No, what Lincoln wanted out of life was simple and reasonable: A good job, a happy home, and stability. A lot of people Lincoln had gone to high school made a mad dash for the door as soon as they graduated, leaving Royal Woods in droves. They had the mindset that Royal Woods was a small town and that anyone who stayed behind was a stupid redneck or something. Lincoln didn't get that. Sure, Royal Woods was a small town and small towns aren't for everyone, but he had lived his entire life here, made many fond memories in its streets and parks, and was happy here. After all, the big city wasn't that far away. If he needed a little hustle and bustle to break up the monotony of crickets and banjos, he could hop in his car and spend the day snarled in traffic, getting shot at, and paying through the nose for everything. Seriously, cities are expensive. People act so high and mighty about living in them, looking down on everyone else, but then complain about prices. Dude, you just paid 5 dollars for a pack of gum lol and I'm the idiot?
To that end, Lincoln had been carefully planning his future since middle school. He would go to community college so as not to rack up too much debt, get a sensible degree, and one day buy a small house in one of Royal Woods' more affordable neighborhoods. Housing prices were still high but not unattainable. He figured that he would eventually marry and have children, but he wanted to get on his feet beforehand, so to speak. In fact, he didn't just "figure" he would get married and have children, he actively planned for it. Family had always been important to Lincoln and he really wanted children of his own. He wanted them to have a good life, however, which meant that he couldn't rush into things. He had to have a good job making good money before he brought kids into the world.
In high school, Lincoln grew and filled out a little; up to then, he was too tall and too thin, but by tenth grade, he had caught up to himself. He wasn't a physical marvel by any stretch of the imagination, but he was no longer a white headed beanstalk. He was involved in several clubs and founded the Science Fiction and Fantasy Lovers' Association, which met every Thursday evening in Room 212 after school. He and a small handful of ever changing sidekicks would discuss their favorite movies and books, and sometimes play games like Dungeons and Dragons and Magic: The Gathering.
For the most part, the SFFLA was a real sausage fest, the core members being Lincoln, Clyde, Rusty, and Liam, but a few girls cycled through during its two years of existence. The first was Stella Chang, one of Lincoln's closest friends and a huge SF nerd. The other was Haiku, who brought a taste for the darker aspects of the genre. Lincoln became closer to both girls and dated both of them at various times. In the eleventh grade, however, something changed.
Ronnie Anne Santiago moved back to town.
In the dim and distant past of fifth grade, Lincoln and Ronnie Anne had almost been a couple. They were close, had a little crush on one another, and enjoyed each other's company. If they had been a little older at the time, they probably would have been full blown boyfriend and girlfriend, but they were both still too timid and indecisive. Ronnie Anne and her family eventually moved away to Great Lakes City, clear on the other side of the state, and though they visited one another a few times, they soon fell out of contact. They hit each other up on social media and sent the occasional text back and forth, but for the most part, they went their own separate ways in life. There was no reason, no falling out, no bad blood, they were just carried in opposite directions. It happened. He remembered her fondly, but he came to accept that that was all she would be going forward, a happy memory.
To his shock and, admittedly, delight, she moved back to town. It took them a little while to get used to one another again, as they were not the same people they were all those years ago. After a few weeks, however, they basically picked up where they had left off. It was just like the old days and Lincoln had never been happier.
When Ronnie Anne came back, he was single, and within a month, they were certifiably boyfriend and girlfriend. Lincoln was over the moon, but he couldn't lie, he still carried a little bit of a flame for both Stella and Haiku. They remained close friends but it was kind of difficult for Lincoln. At first, he thought he could handle it. He was happy with Ronnie Anne and was convinced now that she was "the one.' One day they were going to get married, and another day, somewhere far off down the road, they would have children together. Stella and Haiku were just high school flings, nothing more. They had both seemingly moved on with their lives and he should do the same.
That was easier said than done, however. He was sentimental and couldn't let go that quickly. He still thought about them quite a lot and recalled the good times they had together.
But that was the past and Ronnie Anne was the future.
After they graduated high school, they both began to attend Royal Woods Community College. Ronnie Anne wanted to be a nurse like her mother and took a course of medical related classes while Lincoln pursued business management at the urging of his oldest sister, Lori. Lori had a degree in the same field and had put it to good use, helping to run a small business in Chicago. By that point, she and Leni were planning to open an online store where Leni could sell her designs, something like a cross between Etsy and eBay. Lori made good money at her day job and had just bought a house with cash. Lincoln possessed inherent management skills himself and thought that business management would be a good fit for him. That wasn't exactly the field that he wanted to be in, but comic book artists didn't exactly make that much money, and there were so many of them out there that the chances of hitting it big were pretty slim. He needed a sensible and realistic career choice, and business management, while not exactly glamorous or exciting, was it.
Following college, he and Ronnie Anne moved into a little apartment together. It was over the deli in downtown Royal Woods and always smelled of fresh bread, Their life there revolved around work and their social life. Ronnie Anne got a job at Royal Woods Memorial as a certified nursing assistant (basically the lowest rung on the nursing ladder), and Lincoln took a job in a corporate research office, where he served as a glorified telemarketer. He worked in a cubicle lost in a sea of cubicles; it was bland, boring work, but it was easy enough and paid decently for the market. Things are generally cheaper in small towns, but the wages are usually lower, so things have a way of balancing out. NCR - National Corporate Research - paid better than almost anywhere else for an entry level position.
Lincoln eventually settled into his sedate little life. He and Ronnie Anne worked long hours, and in the evenings they were usually too tired to go anywhere and do anything, so they hung out on the couch and watched TV. They were both big fans of cooking shows and usually left it on the Food Channel. On weekends - weekends where one or both of them weren't called into work, that is - they hung out with friends or went out to eat.
At first, Lincoln enjoyed the life he and Ronnie Anne had made for themselves and for each other. It wasn't much, but it was nice. They had everything they needed and both of them were on track to one day be well off and to have good careers.
Before long, however, something changed.
There was a word for it, Lincoln was sure, but he couldn't remember what exactly it was. He thought it was "maleez" or something similar. He recalled the dictionary definition, however. Funny how that stuck in his mind but not something as simple as the word which described it. A general feeling of discomfort, illness, or uneasiness whose exact cause is difficult to identify. That was close enough, he figured, though maybe not 100 percent spot on. He knew the cause of his general uneasiness.
He was beginning to feel trapped.
As much as he once enjoyed his life with Ronnie Anne, it was now beginning to chafe him. It was too bland, too mediocre. He worked, he came home, he watched TV. Was this all there was? Would this be his life, or some variation thereof, forever? He didn't think he was quite ready to lay down roots and vegetate. Not yet.
Enter Stella and Haiku.
Or, rather, reenter Stella and Haiku. They had gone to different schools in different parts of the country, studying different things, but they both showed back up in Royal Woods around the same time, at the beginning of the summer. He and Ronnie Anne bumped into them at a restaurant downtown. The two girls were hanging out together because they had become close friends, starting with their time in Lincoln's club. Heh, guess that made him a matchmaker or something.
From then on, he and Ronnie Anne began to hang out with Stella and Haiku as much as they hung out with Clyde, who was a best friend to both Lincoln and Ronnie Anne. Clyde was single and still living at home, helping his parents run the antique store they had opened up during his senior year in high school. He was skinny and gangly and still wore glasses so thick that internet fanboys wrote lemons about them. He was goofy, shy, and socially awkward, and sometimes Lincoln really worried about him. To the best of his knowledge, Clyde had never had a girlfriend, and every time Lincoln tried to get him to approach a girl, he'd get feverish, shaky, and nosebleedy. At the rate he was going, he'd be a weird, Norman Bates style virgin for the rest of his life. Lincoln tried to hook him up with both Stella and Haiku at various points, but Clyde chickened out each time, much to Lincoln's chagrin.
And secret relief.
Meeting and hanging out with the two girls again, Lincoln had rediscovered his feelings for them. He felt it even more now because they were fun and free. They represented youth and freedom to him, whereas Ronnie Anne came to symbolize the trapped and stuffy life that was starting to suffocate him. He began to lust after them and the freedom they embodied. Ronnie Anne…as terrible as this was to say…was old and boring, they were fresh and exciting.
One day, while Ronnie Anne was out at the grocery store, Lincoln invited Stella and Haiku over to the apartment. It was a spur of the moment decision that he admittedly didn't think through. If he had, he would have gotten cold feet and chickened out. He guessed you could have said that cooler heads would have prevailed. He did not give himself time to do this, however, because somewhere deep inside, he knew that if he did, he would lose his nerve. He didn't know what he was thinking…he guessed he wasn't thinking. He didn't stop to consider what he was doing, how it might impact him and those around him, and what would happen to him if he got caught. This was something that he felt he needed to do, damn the consequences; he'd deal with those later, if he had to deal with them at all. Hopefully he didn't, but again, he wasn't exactly in the most clear headed of states.
In the days after what happened, he would excuse and justify what he'd done a thousand times over, but there was a flicker of guilt in the back of his mind that he could neither douse nor escape. Even so, what happened next was something that he could definitely say he did not deserve. No one deserved it.
Ronnie Anne came home unexpectedly with Clyde in tow and found him in bed with Stella and Haiku. He hadn't had sex with either of them yet, but they had tied him to the bed and were gearing up for some BDSM action - not what he expected, to be honest. Well, he kind of expected it from Haiku, but not necessarily from Stella. Ronnie Anne was understandably upset, but instead of flying into a rage or running away in tears (both of which were equally possible), she got really calm. Ronnie Anne was your textbook fiery Latina who spoke her mind, didn't give a shit whether you liked it or not, and was willing to fight to the death for what she believed in, even if it was something as trivial as one soccer team being better than another. She had passion, zeal, and a temper. His mind was so clouded, his thinking so skewered, that he never really stopped to think what might happen if she caught him, but on some level, he kind of figured she would go psycho and kill him, or at the very least chop his dick off.
She didn't do that.
What she did was much, much worse.
Lincoln had only seen her this mad - so mad that she went calm and cold - a few times before, and the moment he glimpsed the expression on her face, he knew he was in for something awful.
What, however, he never could have imagined in a thousand years,
She had Clyde lay down on top of him and they…well…they had sex. Then Clyde had sex with Stella and Haiku, all the while using Lincoln as a bed. He lay there trapped and gagged while this happened, unable to move or to cry out. Each time he neared orgasm, Clyde pulled out and blew his load on Lincoln. By the time it was over, Lincoln was drenched in cum and on the verge of tears. To make matters worse, Ronnie Anne recorded the whole thing and sent it to all his sisters. Then, after leaving him tied up, she posted it online.
It was the most traumatic experience of Lincoln's life and even now, he couldn't fully wrap his head around it. He had blocked most of it out and couldn't remember much of what happened. He remembered enough, however. Hell, he remembered too much. No matter how many showers he took or how vigorously he scrubbed his skin, he still felt dirty, and the sounds of pleasure that Ronnie Anne, Stella, and Haiku made as Clyde rutted them echoed endlessly through the chambers of his mind. It didn't hurt so much that Clyde fucked Ronnie Anne - Lincoln was fair and didn't mind her sleeping with someone else - it was that he stole both Stella and Haiku out from under his nose. If Ronnie Anne wanted to have sex with Clyde, or any other guy for that matter, Lincoln was okay with it. He wasn't a cuck or anything but it was only fair that if he got some strange, she should be able to as well. But did she really have to do all this?
And Clyde…why did he go along with it? Clyde was his best friend in the whole world, they had been close as brothers for years and had been through so much together, yet the moment Ronnie Anne took her clothes off, all that went out the window and Clyde became a drooling fucking zombie. If the shoe had been on the other foot, Lincoln wouldn't have been able to bring himself to do what Clyde had done. Even if he thought Clyde was in the wrong, even if he was mad at or upset with Clyde, he couldn't have done…that. Yet Clyde went right along with it without so much as a single point of hesitation.
That hurt most of all.
Lincoln's sisters eventually came over and untied him, laughing and mocking him the entire time. They had Ronnie Anne's pictures up on their phones and were drooling over Clyde's cock the whole time, which was yet another insult to injury moment. He, of course, felt ashamed to be found in such a compromising and untenable position, especially by his sisters, who would never, henceforth, let him live it down. They had the memories of elephants and still brought up embarrassing moments from childhood.
By the time they set him free and he was able to take a long, hot shower that did little to wash away his shame and sense of dirtiness, Ronnie Anne was gone. She had cleaned out her side of the closet and taken her most valuable possessions, leaving only excess and garbage in her wake. The apartment felt like a cold, empty void and Lincoln sat on the edge of the bed with his head hung, processing his emotions and not knowing how to feel. He was sad, angry, upset, depressed, and ashamed all at the same time. He was a bubbling cauldron of conflicting emotions and for some reason, he felt so drained that he could barely sit up. He curled up on the bed and hugged his knees to his chest, going between rage and sadness. How could Ronnie Anne do this to him? If she wanted to get back and him, he wouldn't have minded. He would have given her a pass to sleep with whoever she wanted. It was only fair. She didn't have to do what she did.
What a fucking bitch. Good, he was glad she left. To hell with her, if that's how she was, she wasn't worth having around anyway. Despite the bluster and the attempt at lacking self-awareness, he knew that he was the one to blame here. He was the one who tried to cheat, not Ronnie Anne. She was just coming back from the grocery store like a normal person. He was totally in the wrong and he deserved to feel bad. How, after all, did Ronnie Anne feel when she walked in and saw Lincoln cheating with two girls in the bed they shared? She probably felt like garbage.
Even so, what she did more than made up for what he had done, especially when you consider the fact that he didn't even actually sleep with Stella and Haiku. He was right on the cusp of doing them when Clyde and Ronnie Anne walked in. Oh, the intent was there, he wasn't arguing that, but you have to subtract points from his overall score since he never actually did anything with them. When you got right down to it, that put Ronnie Anne ahead of him. Why did she have to leave then? Why didn't she stay so that they could work this all out?
That question plagued him all weekend. He halfway expected her to come walking back through the door at any moment, her leaving having been a bluff. Surely it wouldn't end like this, so unceremoniously. Had the roles been reversed and Ronnie Anne been the one cheating, he wouldn't just break up with her. They would need to talk, to have a conversation first.
There would be closure of some shape or form. There had to be,
Then again, life wasn't a movie. Things were rarely if ever wrapped up with a neat little bow in the end. Ends were sudden, messy, and unsatisfying sometimes. He waited for her to come back, but she didn't. She didn't call, she didn't message him on social media, nothing. In fact, she blocked him on every platform they both used. He had no idea where she was or what she was doing, but he imagined that she was with Clyde.
Haiku and Stella were easier to get a hold of. They weren't mad at him, but after what had happened, they were either ashamed or simply finished with him. They went out of their way to avoid him, and when he cornered them at a bar downtown, they acted really weird and awkward. It was clear to him that his relationship with them - even his very friendship - was over. That depressed him as much as if not more than Ronnie Anne. Even worse was that his sisters kept sending him pictures of them with Clyde.
The Event, as Lincoln came to think of it, happened on the Friday of a long weekend, so he had three days to stew in his juices. He could barely sleep, barely eat, and he had no energy or passion. He cycled through what felt like a thousand sunrises and sunsets, doing little more than existing, like a phantom haunting the ancient ruins of a once great castle. The worst thing to come out of this - in terms of immediacy - was that Ronnie Anne posted the video all over the internet…because fuckign Clyde on top of him wasn't punishment enough. His sisters weren't the only ones to see that terrible video. It had hundreds of thousands of views across a dozen different platforms. The comments were from either weirdos talking about how "hot" it was or from trolls laughing at him.
Lincoln was not an overly dramatic person but he genuinely felt that his life was over. He could never show his face in public again because people might recognize him as "the guy from that brutal cucking video." He wanted to forget that it even happened, but he doubted that he would ever truly live it down; any time, any place, someone could recognize him and bring it up, ripping the scab right off the freshly healed wound. He hoped none of his coworkers saw it. He didn't think he could handle working day in and day out with people who had seen him in such a humiliating position. God, what could he do? Was he going to have to move? Change his life and his identity? He saw himself moving into a cabin in the thickly wooded hills of Montana, or the windswept buttes of Wyoming, and he inwardly groaned. He didn't want to have to isolate himself from society just to get peace of mind, but he saw literally no other option.
It wasn't all that bad, though, was it? So a few hundred thousand people had seen it. The chances of bumping into any of them were slim. The US population was something on the order of 330 million. A few hundred thousand was a fraction of a percent, a comparative few drops in the ocean in the grand scheme of things. With social media the way it is, the only people likely to see the video were those who specifically sought out porn sites…or to whom Ronnie Anne directly sent the video.
Would she have sent a link to people in his office? Would she even know who any of them were or how to contact them? He thought long and hard about this and decided that while she was certainly capable of it, there was no practical way for her to do it unless she went to his place of work herself and physically showed the video to people as they came and went from the building. If she did that, then surely security would run her off. They might even call the police on her.
A black, savage part of him hoped she tried it and wound up getting shot. The bitch ruined his life. And how quickly and easily she did it. He realized that he had done wrong but if their roles were reversed, there was no way he could do the same thing to her. He would be hurt, he would be mad, he would be upset, but he would not be able to bring himself to try and totally destroy her the way she was trying to destroy him.
He didn't deserve this.
Did he?
Look, he knew he had fucked up and he was sorry. He understood her leaving, he understood her hating him and never wanting to see him again, but the way she so coldly treated him was shocking. That's not something a normal person just does, it had to have built up inside of her.
Either way, what's done was done and he couldn't change that. On Monday morning, he dragged himself out of bed, bleary eyed and unshaven, and took a long, hot shower to wake himself up. He skipped brushing his teeth and stared at his sallow reflection in the water splotched mirror over the sink. He looked like crap, but he didn't care. What did it matter? What did anything matter? He dressed in a pair of tan slacks and a white button-up shirt, and made himself a breakfast of instant coffee and oatmeal. Outside, the sky was gray and the trees barren, matching his bleak mood. He slipped out of the building and climbed into his car, feeling exposed. Since Ronnie Anne posted the video, he had been paranoid and self-conscious in public, expecting to be recognized and mocked every second he was out there.
The building where he worked was in a vast office park outside of town, all pavement parking lots and squat, shiny glass buildings. He pulled into an empty spot, cut the engine, and took a deep, fortifying breath. Inside, he walked through the lobby and past the reception desk. The secretary said good morning to him like she did every day, and he returned the greeting.
He was starting to let his guard down, then he noticed that other people were stealing looks at him and snickering behind their hands. His face flushed and he hurried to his desk. This was ridiculous. He texted Ronnie Anne and was surprised to find that she hadn't blocked his number. Why did you post that video online? Why are you trying to ruin me? I'm sorry. I'm an asshole but you're going too far.
Lincoln did not expect a reply at all, but one came within minutes.
I didn't post it. Stella did. I wasn't going to but oh well.
He read and reread the text several times. Stella did it? Anger boiled up inside of him and his hand closed on the phone. Or was Ronnie Anne lying? Why would Stella do this to him? She was just as much in the wrong as he was. She had no right, no fucking moral grounding.
All that morning, his coworkers kept giving him sidelong looks and laughing. Lincoln was about to break down and quit when he got an email on his work account from the boss, Mr. Friedman. Mr. Friedman wanted to see him "ASAP."
A chill went through Lincoln.
He already knew what this was about.
Swallowing hard, Lincoln pushed away from his desk and got up. On the long walk to the old man's office, he felt like every eye was on him and like time had slowed to a crawl. He stared straight ahead and tried to ignore everyone around him.
At the door, he knocked, and Mr. Friedman called out for him to enter. Lincoln turned the knob and slipped in.
A big desk dominated the center of the room, with oak cabinets and potted plants along either wall. Mr. Friedman sat at the desk, a beefy older man in a suit. His hair was gray and he was bald in the middle. He had jowls, sleepy eyes, and looked like he smoked cigars, though Lincoln had never seen him with one. If you looked up BOSS in the dictionary, you'd likely find a picture of Mr. Friedman next to it. "Sit down," the old man said and motioned to a chair facing the desk.
Lincoln sat and rested his hands on his knees, He thrummed with nervous energy.
Mr. Friedman sat back in his chair and it creaked beneath his weight. "I hear you're having a hard time lately. Something to do with an embarrassing video."
Lincoln gulped. "Yes," he confirmed. No point in lying.
Mr. Friedman sighed. "I don't know you very well, Loud, but you strike me as a decent person. An honest person. From what I've heard, you made a mistake and you're paying for it in a very public way. I feel for you in that regard since I went through something similar." A shudder went through the old man. "It wasn't as…well, my embarrassment wasn't seen by as many people as yours but that hardly matters. I want to help you, Loud, by giving you an opportunity."
"What kind of opportunity?" Lincoln asked.
Mr. Friedman told him.
He had a friend who worked for a business tycoon in New York City and this friend needed a broker. The old man was going to pick someone else but decided to give the position to Lincoln. It meant a huge increase in pay and possibly moving to NYC. Lincoln was stunned by the offer. It came out of nowhere and would radically change his life…in all the best ways.
He opened his mouth to reply, but his head was spinning.
"Why don't you take the day off and think it over?" Mr. Friedman asked.
All Lincoln could do was jerk his head up and down and scurry away. He left the building and drove home, his mind wandering. He was excited by the prospect of taking this position but also a little intimidated. This was a major thing and he would be operating at a high level, a level where you simply can't afford to make a single mistake. He was only human and not beyond fucking things up, as recent events had demonstrated. What if he found a way to screw this up the way he had screwed up his relationship with Ronnie Anne?
That afternoon, feeling restless and undecided, Lincoln went on a walk around Royal Woods. He put in earbuds and listened to music on his phone as he drifted past old haunts and let memories wash over him. Some were good, some not so good, but all of them were special because they were his. A certain song began to play, and the lyrics suited the moment as though they had been tailored made for it.
Walking down the streets, you might run across a smiling face
But they'll stab you in the back as soon as you turn and walk away
And I, oh Lord, it's bringing me down
He thought of Ronnie Anne, and his chest ached. He was mad at her, but he was more hurt than anything. Not only because of what she had done, but because of what he had done as well. He was as ashamed of cheating on her as he was of that video being posted online.
Lincoln walked past his old school, the park, Gus's (now closed), and Flip's, which was under new management now that Flip had died. Royal Woods was haunted by the specters of Lincoln's past, and indeed, it was beginning to bring him down.
Soon, he wound up in the town square, people watching as Otis Redding launched into Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay. The sad, soulful words of longing and nostalgia spoke deeply to Lincoln, penetrating his very soul. A tear came to his eye and he brushed it away.
Getting up, he took the earbuds out, shoved the phone into his pocket, and started for home. He was so lost in thought and emotion that he found himself - for the first time in days - not worrying about being recognized from the video. He put his hands in his pockets and lowered his head to watch his feet and they carried him along Main was about lunch time and there were many people on the sidewalk around him. Cars passed in the street and music drifted from an unseen source, muffled and tinny. He wound up outside a cafe that was packed with hungry diners. His stomach rumbled and he went inside, sitting at a free table next to the big plate glass window overlooking the street. He looked around, but none of the other patrons seemed to notice him. If they had seen the video, they were too worried about eating to care that the subject was in their presence.
A waitress came and took his drink order, and while he waited for his sandwich, he sipped Coca Cola and mulled over his boss's proposition. He thought he was close to making a decision, but now, the more he pondered it, the more uncertain he became. This was a big step, one that would be good for him in the long run, but it was new and scary. Change was a good thing, yes, he realized that, but change was also scary.
When his sandwich arrived, he ate it while staring out the window. He was almost done when a familiar face passed by, followed by another one.
Stella and Haiku.
His heart jogged in his chest and the air seemed to freeze in his lungs. A beat later, two more familiar faces passed by.
Clyde and Ronnie Anne.
Clyde's arm was around Ronnie Anne's waist and they were chatting and smiling at one another. Seeing them like that sent a pang of agony rippling through Lincoln's stomach. He quickly turned his head away and stared down at his empty plate, hoping they wouldn't see him. When he next looked up, they were gone, and he let out a sigh of relief.
He paid the bill and rushed out, hurrying home and fearing another encounter. When he finally got there, he locked the door and dropped onto the couch with a deep sigh. He flashed back to seeing Clyde and Ronnie Anne together, along with Haiku and Stella, and his stomach churned. Royal Woods was a small town, he would bump into them frequently from here on out, and he didn't know if he could handle it. Not after what had happened, not with the shame, anger, and guilt presently pressing down on his chest.
Sighing, he picked up the phone and dialed Mr. Friedman's number.
He had made his decision.
When the old man answered, Lincoln greeted him and identified himself. "I've thought it over," Lincoln said, "and I'd like to take the position."
"Good, good," Mr. Friedman said. "You won't regret this, I assure you of that."
Lincoln didn't know if he would regret it or not, but as scary as change was, he needed it.
Hanging up the phone, he took another deep breath.
So this was it, the end of this chapter of his life.
Soon…a new one would begin.
And he was so ready.