Ronnie Anne Santiago did not have vivid dreams. In fact, she rarely dreamt at all. That night, however, her mind spun a fantasy that was so real, so lifelike, that when she woke, she could almost swear that it was a memory and not a dream. In it, she and Lincoln were back in his bed, their tongues grappling hungrily, just as they had in real life, only in the dream, Luna didn't interrupt them. Lincoln touched her in places no boy had ever touched her before, his lips kissed places that lips had never kissed, and right before she woke up, she started to touch him.
She was shivering delightfully when her eyes fluttered open. The first thing she was aware of was heat. Her flesh was fevered from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes; the spot between her legs was really hot. Unnaturally hot. She put her hand down the front of her shorts and touched it: She shuddered as tongues of fire streaked out into her body. She was damp, and her thing pulsed hotly against her hand like a beating heart. She slowly drew her middle finger up the center, between her satin mounds, and moaned lightly. Her spine tingled and her toes started to curl. She threw her head back and ran her finger slowly up and down. When it sank into her opening, she jerked. Goddamn.
Images of Lincoln flashed through her mind. His smile, his warm, caring eyes, his arms holding her to his chest. She rubbed her legs and slowly dipped her finger in, her breath hitching. She thought back to yesterday, him on top of her, his hand on her breast. Her fingertip touched a bundle of nerves that she didn't even know she had, and her mind scrambled with hot sensation. She rubbed it in quick, tight circles, and something began to gather in her stomach, a pressure much like the one she had felt yesterday, only this time it was sharper. She rubbed faster, faster, her chest heaving, her feet crossing, her back arching. The pressure was rising, rising, oh god, rising...then it burst wide open, enveloping her entire body in white hot passion, and she bit her bottom lip against the cry filling her mouth. She shook with the power of her orgasm; her body turned to jelly, and her slitted eyes crossed.
When it was over, she took a shivery breath and pulled her hand out of her shorts. Her fingers were wet and sticky, and she wiped them on the cover. Wow, she thought breathlessly, that was awesome.
God, how much better it would have been if Lincoln was the one doing that to her.
She wished his stupid sister didn't walk in on them.
Sighing, she got out of bed and went into the bathroom, where she stripped naked and let down her hair, which spilled over her shoulders. She studied her budding breasts in the mirror over the sink. She cupped one in her hand and tried to imagine Lincoln was holding it, but it wasn't the same. In the shower, she turned the water as hot as she could stand and let it pound against her. She couldn't wait to see Lincoln. If they could find some privacy...
She giggled at the thought. She thought of his penis. What did it look like? Was it big? Small? Thick? Thin? Not that she really cared. It was his and that's all that mattered. She wanted to run her fingers along it, and stroke it, and put it in her mouth...
Jesus, you're turning into a mushy-gushy pervert!
Oh well. She didn't mind. Lincoln was all that mattered to her. He was everything she needed and wanted. Suddenly...other people's opinion of her didn't matter one damn bit. Let them think what they wanted to about her; as long as Lincoln loved her, she was content.
When she was done, she cut the water, dried off, then wrapped the towel around her body. In her room, she pulled on a pair of purple underwear and a black T-shirt with a glittery skull and crossbones. She intentionally did not put on a bra. Next, she selected a pair of jeans and then sat to put on her socks and shoes. Her purple hoodie came last. Back in the bathroom, she took a scrunchie from her wrist and pulled her hair back into a ponytail.
She was ready for Lincoln.
Lynn Loud passed a sleepless night playing the toss-and-turn game. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Lincoln and Ronnie Anne kissing.
Earlier, after dinner, she tracked down Luna and asked about what she saw them doing.
"I saw them getting pretty close on the couch, then they went upstairs," Lynn lied. "I figured something was going on..."
"They were practically doing it," Luna said with a little smile.
Lynn's heart sank. "Oh...yeah?"
Luna nodded. "He was on top of her and she had her legs open and they were kissing and if I hadn't walked in..." she shrugged.
Nodding and muttering something that even she didn't understand, Lynn went back to her room and sat down on her bed, her chest flooding with pain. That was the only way to describe it: Pain. She tried to visualize what Luna must have saw, but it made her stomach knot and her chest tight. Why did the thought of him kissing Ronnie Anne disturb her so much? Why did it make her want to curl up on her bed and cry? Because she was a little bitch who would treat him like a dog?
She didn't think so. That was certainly a part of it, but not all of it. Who and what Ronnie was aside, the idea of him doing...that...shook her. She drew a deep sigh and crawled under the covers, thoroughly depressed. She should really talk to him, but what would she say? I don't like that bitch, she's bad for you? Where would that get her? Into a shouting match probably, and she didn't want to yell at Lincoln and she sure as shit didn't want him to yell at her.
Presently, she thought of getting up and going to him; she could slip beneath the covers, put her arm across his chest, and simply lay there, content in the knowledge that, for the time being at least, he was safe in her protective embrace. The thought was tempting, but she made no move to get up.
She finally drifted off shortly before dawn, and woke two and a half hours later to the alarm; her eyes were grainy and her head ached, but she would manage. It was the pain in her chest that bothered her.
In the hall, she got in line behind Leni for the bathroom. When she heard the telltale creak of Lincoln's bedroom door opening, she turned. He was in his underwear; his eyes were barely open and he fell against the wall. She smiled to herself. "It's awake, guys!"
"Shut up!" he said, bouncing off the other wall and putting his hands out to steady himself. He was so bumbling in the morning. It was cute.
"Hey, Linc," Lynn said when he walked up.
He grunted.
"Glad to see you made it in one piece."
"Yeah," he said dully.
She reached out to push him back (just to see if he would tip over), but she froze when her palm touched his chest: His skin was warm and soft, and she felt a blush touch her cheeks.
"What are you doing?" he asked, blinking rapidly and trying to focus his eyes.
"I was going to push you over but I had a change of heart," she said and snatched her hand away.
"Thanks," he muttered.
She swallowed hard and nodded. "Don't mention it," she croaked.
When her turn in the bathroom came, she studied her reflection in the mirror. What was that about, Loud?
She didn't know.
An hour later, when she left the house, Ronnie Anne Santiago was waiting on the sidewalk for Lincoln. Hot anger rose in her, and she took a deep breath. As she passed, she shot her a dirty look, and she shot one right back. Fucking bitch.
The day was chilly and overcast with a light wind. Leaves fell from treetops and sailed through the air, but Lynn took no notice, she was lost in thought.
What was wrong with Ronnie Anne?
And what was wrong with her?
Ronnie Anne Santiago watched Lynn Loud hurry down the sidewalk, her shoulders hunched and her head bowed. If she were literally anyone else, Ronnie would have said something to her, but she had to remind herself that she wasn't just anyone, she was Lincoln's sister. That meant Ronnie's hands were basically tied.
And she didn't like that.
She drew a deep breath and shook her head, her hands balling inside the oversized pockets of her hoodie. Everyone has their breaking point, she thought, so you better leave me alone.
Those dark thoughts vanished when Lincoln came out the door. Ronnie's heart soared and she felt herself smiling like a goofball. There's my Lincy-boo-boo-bear she thought ironically, and laughed out loud.
"What's funny?" he asked as he walked up.
"Nothing," she said and grabbed his hand, lacing her fingers through his. They began to walk.
"Come on," he pled, "I wanna hear."
"Not on your life, lame-o," she said, "I will never say what I just thought."
He lifted a brow. "That bad, huh?"
She laughed and nodded. "Yeah, pretty bad."
"Hm. You know it's bad when you won't say it. I've heard you say some really messed up things."
She shrugged. "This is different."
"How so?"
She thought for a minute. Should she tell him? Or give him a hint? They talked about how sickeningly cute Bobby and Lori were with each other, and both decided that it was mock-worthy. What would he think of her if she busted out Lincy-boo-boo-bear, even in jest?
He'd probably think she was going soft. God, he might even like it.
"I made up a cute pet-name for you," she finally admitted, and blushed. "I don't want to say it, though. I was just messing around."
He favored her with a sidelong glance. "Cute pet-name? Wow." He laughed.
"Shut up," she said, and squeezed his hand as hard as she could. He squeezed right back, and she yelped. "Jerk!" she cried, and slammed his arm. He recoiled with a laugh.
"That means I have to come up with a cute pet-name for you," he said as they crossed Schoolhouse Road. Yellow and brown leaves were heaped in the gutters and more fell from the trees along the sidewalk, the wind catching them and pushing them away like embers from a fire.
"Oh, God," Ronnie groaned.
"Call you it in front of everyone..."
"You better not."
"Over the intercom."
She slapped his arm again and jabbed his cheek with her finger. "No."
He stopped and turned. "Are you sure?"
She gazed up into his soulful eyes, her heart bouncing. She nodded. "Yes."
"Okay," he smiled, and leaned in. His lips brushed hers, and she drew a sharp intake of his warm breath. Their tongues touched and danced around one another. She threw her arms around him and drew him close, nearly knocking him off balance. He giggled against her mouth. "Easy there," he said.
"Sorry," she panted, and kissed him again.
When the kiss finally broke, she rested her head against his chest and hugged him tight, the rhythmic pounding of his heart lulling her. She felt so...she couldn't believe she was about to think this...so safe in his arms, so protected. She looked up at him and smiled. "I meant what I said yesterday," she said.
"You said a lot of stuff yesterday."
"That I love you."
Lincoln grinned. "I love you too." He pecked her on the forehead. "Let's go, you're going to make us late."
For Ronnie Anne, the morning passed in a daze. She couldn't focus, and when she tried to think, all she could come up with was Lincoln and the way she felt in his arms. During science class, she thought back to what she did that morning in bed, and crossed her legs when she imagined Lincoln doing the same thing. She wanted that very badly.
When lunch rolled around, she got in line, got her tray, and went over to hers and Lincoln's table. Hopefully McBride would leave them alone.
As she waited for Lincoln, she caught sight of Lynn Loud at a table near the wall.
She was staring at her.
Hot anger flashed in Ronnie's chest, and she fought to push it down. You're really starting to piss me off, Loud, she thought. She turned away and looked at the wall. When she turned back, Lynn was still staring at her with knitted brows.
Alright, screw this.
Leaving her tray, Ronnie got up and crossed the cafeteria, shoving her hands into her pockets and balling them. Lynn finally looked down at her tray just as Ronnie came up and dropped into the seat across from her.
"What's your problem with me?" she asked.
Lynn didn't reply, didn't look up, but Ronnie could feel the hatred wafting off of her.
"I know you have one, so how about you spit it out?"
Lynn's hands were on the table. Her fingers flexed like she was limbering them up for a punch. Ronnie wished she would.
Instead, the Loud girl got up, grabbed her tray, and turned.
"Really?" Ronnie asked. "You're gonna walk away...like a little bitch?"
Lynn spun and slammed the tray down on the table; bits of food flew out of the compartments. Ronnie didn't flinch.
Lynn leaned across the table, her eyes flashing and her teeth bared. "Stay away from my brother," she growled.
"How about you make me?" Ronnie asked, leaning forward. Their noses were scant inches apart.
Before either of them could act, Mrs. Dempsey, the fourth grade teacher and that day's lunch monitor, came over. They both looked up at her. She was a big fat woman with glasses and curly gray hair. Her arms were crossed over her matronly bosom. "Is there a problem, girls?"
"No," Lynn said tightly, her eyes still locked on Ronnie Anne's. "I was just leaving."
"Yes she was," Ronnie said.
Lynn turned and stormed away. Ronnie got up and went back to her lunch just as Lincoln walked in. She saw him, and the dark anger in chest melting like ice against the rays of the summer sun. She grinned and waved. He grinned and waved back. She caught Lynn staring at her from a different table, and when Lincoln wasn't looking, Ronnie flipped her off.
Tray in hand, Lincoln came over and sat across from her. "Hey, baby-boo-boo-cakes," he said.
Ronnie's lips puckered as though she'd just sucked a lemon. "I will hit you," she said.
"Come on," he said, "it took me all morning to come up with that."
"I think you need to put a little thought into it. Even mine wasn't that bad."
"What was it?"
Ronnie's throat constricted. "I forget," she lied.
Lincoln laughed. "No you didn't. What was it?"
Ronnie sighed. He did tell her his. She sighed and, looking down at her tray, said, "Lincy-boo-boo-bear."
Lincoln laughed long and hard. Ronnie's cheeks blushed furiously, and she looked away. "Shut up."
"That's funny," he said, brushing a tear from his eye.
"Shut up," she said again, but she was smiling.
"It's cute."
"Yeah? I don't do cute."
He batted his eyelashes. "Not even for me?"
She opened her mouth but closed it again. "You're pushing it"
He poked his cheek with his index finger and turned it back and forth.
"You're a dork," she laughed.
All this time, she was aware of Lynn Loud watching her.
