Lynn Loud was seething by the time school ended. At football practice, she couldn't focus; she kept thinking of Ronnie Anne Santiago's dark, defiant eyes, her set lips. Leave my brother alone, Lynn said, and the little bitch's eyes danced with malicious glee. How about you make me? Lynn was going to: She was going to smash her right in her face, but Mrs. Dempsey came over and that was all she wrote. Lynn was going to leave the cafeteria after, but she found herself grabbing another seat and watching her brother and his a-hole girlfriend. They were all bright eyes and big smiles, and it pissed her off. It pissed her off even more when, deep down, she wondered if maybe she was the asshole, and not Ronnie Anne. Maybe she had their relationship all wrong and was...well...jealous.

Oh, that really made her mad. Instead of massacring everyone as she had the day before, she got massacred because she just couldn't get her head in the game. After the third time another girl tackled her to the ground (and knocked the breath out of her), Coach Peters came over, her hands on her hips. "Yesterday you were killing everybody, now everybody's killing you. You obviously got something on your mind."

"It's nothing," Lynn said, sitting up and taking her helmet off, her sweaty brown hair falling over her shoulders.

In a surprising display of tenderness, Coach knelt down and patted her back. "Problems at home?"

"No," Lynn said quickly. "Really, I'm fine."

"Alright," Coach sighed and stood. "If you need to talk, my door's always open. Now hit the showers."

Lynn took her shower, got dressed, and walked home through the gathering gloom. When she got home, she let herself in the front door and took her gym back off. Lincoln was sitting on the couch, a book open on his lap. She grinned. "Hey, Linc."

He glanced over. "Hey."

When he moved, Lynn saw something she didn't like.

Ronnie Anne Santiago was sitting next to him.

Lynn's body tensed. "Oh, she's here?"

Ronnie Anne leaned forward and looked past Lincoln, her brows knitted. "Yeah, I'm right here."

Lynn's fingernails dug into her palms.

Lincoln looked from his sister to his girlfriend, confusion in his eyes. "What...?"

"You and your little girlfriend wanna play some football?" Lynn asked before she knew she was even going to speak. "Or is she afraid she's gonna break a nail?"

"Something might get broken," Ronnie said, jumping up.

Lynn nodded. "Come on, then."

"Uh, guys?"

"Shut up, Lincoln," they both said in unison.

"Let's go," Lynn said, then went around the couch toward the back door. Ronnie followed, and Lincoln brought up the rear, thoroughly confused but knowing something was inexplicably not right.

Dusk pooled in the backyard. A chilly wind sprang up, and Lincoln shivered. He thought briefly of running back inside and grabbing his jacket, but he didn't like this one bit and he wasn't going to take his eyes off it for a second.

Lynn bent down and snatched a football from the grass. Lincoln came down the porch stairs, but she held up a hand without looking at him. "Sit this one out. Let me see what little girl here is made of."

Ronnie gritted her teeth.

"Alright, kid," Lynn said, backing up. "I'll throw you the ball and you try to make it past me. Think you can handle that?"

"Lynn..." Lincoln started, but Ronnie cut him off with a snort.

"And here I thought it was going to be a challenge."

Lincoln looked strickenly from one girl to the other. Both looked angry. Both looked frightening. Lincoln dropped to the step and watched as Lynn backed up, never taking her eyes off Ronnie. When she was a good seventy-five feet away, Lynn stopped and snapped the ball. It cut through the chilly air like a bullet. Ronnie jumped at the last second and grabbed it in both her hands. Lynn was running toward her like a freight train, and Lincoln's heart leapt into his throat. Ronnie ducked to the right and started running. Lynn gave chase, pounding after her, her arms pumping furiously. When Ronnie reached the fence separating their yard from Mr. Grouse's, she turned, but Lynn kept coming.

"Lynn!" Lincoln yelled, getting to his feet.

When Lynn was almost on top of her, Ronnie cocked her fist and threw it, hitting Lynn in the side of the face. This didn't seem to faze the athlete, as she slammed into Ronnie and knocked her against the fence.

"Hey!"

Lincoln started running toward them as they rolled back and forth in the grass, Lynn on top and punching, then Ronnie. Someone cried out, and another growled, "Fucking bitch!" When Lincoln reached them, they were both lying on their sides, their hands full of each other's hair. Ronnie kicked her legs up and pushed her feet into Lynn's stomach. Lynn responded by rolling onto her back and wrenching Ronnie with her. Ronnie's knee landed in Lynn's stomach, and she threw a punch, hitting Lynn in the chin. Lincoln caught her under her arms and dragged her back. "Stop!" he yelled.

Ronnie thrashed against him like a wild animal, her legs kicking and her arms flailing. "Fuck you, bitch!" she screamed at Lynn.

Lynn sat up, a trickle of blood leaking from her nose. Her eyes blazed with hatred. "I'm gonna rip your eyes out, you little slut!"

"STOP!" Lincoln yelled.

Ronnie ceased fighting in his arms, and Lynn looked at him. "What's your fucking problem?" he screamed at his sister, and she winced.

"She..."

"She didn't do shit! You're the one who came through the door with a chip on your shoulder!"

"She wants me to stay away from you," Ronnie said, pulling away from him and pointing at Lynn. "Which isn't going to fucking happen. I love him."

"You don't love him, bitch," Lynn growled.

"Lynn, shut the hell up right now!" Lincoln screamed. "I don't know who the hell you think you are meddling in my life, but this stops now."

Lynn blinked. "But, Linc..."

"No but Linc. If you have a problem with the girl I love, go stick your thumb up your ass and deal with it."

The girl I love?

Those four words hit Lynn's heart like a bullet. She recoiled, and hot tears flooded her eyes.

Lincoln's face was twisted in ugly rage, his lips a bloodless slash and his eyes heavily lidded. Ronnie sank back against him and he put his arm around her neck. She had the exact same expression on her face.

Lynn blinked away her tears and got to her feet. "Fine," she spat, "have your girlfriend, you little faggot."

Ronnie started forward, but Lincoln held her back. "Go to hell, Lynn," he said, and the venom he injected into those words wounded her so deeply that she nearly doubled over. Instead, she stormed inside. In her room, she flopped down on her bed, buried her face in her pillow, and wept.

Lucy, hitherto reading a book, glanced over. Of all their sisters, she was the one who knew Lynn the best, as they had shared a room for practically their entire lives. Lynn was not the unfeeling statue she came across as...she cried sometimes...but it was rare. Lucy glanced at her book then back to her sister, her lips pressing together. When Lynn cried, she needed space. When she was calm, she would open up about what did it...if she wanted to. Even so, every time Lucy saw her sister's back hitching, she had to fight back the urge to go over, sit on the edge of her bed, and comfort her. She hated when Lynn cried; it made her feel like crying.

Sighing, she went back to her book, but could not focus.

In the backyard, Lincoln tightened his grip against Ronnie's shoulder and kissed the top of her head. Her hair was warm and sweet-smelling, even if it was matted with leaves and twigs.

"I'm sorry about Lynn," he said.

"It's not your fault," she said, melting back into him and craning her neck to look up at him. He leaned his forehead against her and held her close. She thought back to the dream she had the night before and to what she did to herself that morning, and suddenly she was warm all over. It was getting late and she had to go, but she didn't want to. She wanted to stay with Lincoln.

She looked at him. "I love you," she said.

"I love you too," he replied, and kissed the tip of her nose; a shiver went down her spine and she giggled.

"You're turning me into a mushy-gushy girl."

"You didn't look like a mushy-gushy girl five minutes ago," Lincoln said.

She shrugged. "I was fighting so I could continue being mushy to you."

Lincoln sighed. "I don't know what her deal is."

"She's being really overprotective," Ronnie said. "I can kind of get it, but she needs to cool her tits."

"Yeah," Lincoln said. "I'll talk to her."

Ronnie slipped her phone out of her pocket and checked the time. It was 5:08. Shit. "I have to go," she sighed.

"But I don't want you to," Lincoln said, and buried his face in her hair.

"Neither do I," she said, reaching back and grazing her fingers along his scalp. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll see you tonight in my dreams."

She giggled. "Are they anything like mine?" she blurted, and then blushed.

"Hmmm. What are yours like?"

She started to say dirty, but froze up. Maybe that would be going a little too far. "Nice."

"So are mine."

He hugged her tighter as night fell around them.


Lynn was curled up on her bed, her knees drawn to her chest, when a knock came at the door. Something told her before it even opened that it was Lincoln.

Sure enough, when Lucy called out, he came in, and Lynn covered her face with her pillow. She didn't want him to see her red, puffy lids, and she didn't want to see the anger in his eyes. She'd seen him mad before, but never like that, and it hurt her heart.

"Hey, Luce," Lincoln said nervously, "can you, uh, give me and Lynn a minute alone please?"

"Sure," she replied. When Lynn heard the door shut, she tensed, expecting Lincoln to call her names. Instead, he came over, and she felt the bed dip as she sat. "I'm sorry I yelled at you like that," he said. "But what's going on with you and Ronnie Anne?"

Lynn turned away from him and hugged the pillow tight to her chest. A thousand thoughts flooded her mind, but she kept her mouth firmly shut.

He touched her shoulder, and she stiffened. "Please," he said, "tell me what this is all about. I...I really like Ronnie, and you...you're one of the most important things in my life. I don't want to see you guys fight like that. It really bothers me."

Lynn drew a wet sigh and blinked back tears. "Do you really love her?" Lynn asked.

"Yeah," Lincoln said. "I do. Why?"

Because I want you to love me. Instead, she said, "Do you really think she's good for you?"

Lincoln's brow furrowed. "Why wouldn't I? I l...we feel very strongly about one another. I'm happy and she's happy. What's not good about that?"

Lynn turned, "Because she punched you in the face, Lincoln! She's aggressive and she's domineering and she's going to treat you like a dog and throw her weight around."

Lincoln cocked his head. "What?"

"In every relationship there's a strong person and a weak person and the strong person bosses the weak person around. I don't want her to boss you around. You can do better than her. You have to do better than her." She sat up and took his hand. Her heart was crashing and her stomach was in knots. "You need someone who'll treat you right and protect you."

Lincoln stared blankly at her for a moment, then pulled his hand away. "Alright," he said, "first of all, I'm not weak. I might not be as aggressive as you or Lori or Lola, but that doesn't mean I'm a sniveling little wimp. Everyone's always acting like I'm some kind of wussy and it's really getting on my nerves. If I was, you and Ronnie would still be in the backyard ripping each other's hair our and I'd be curled up under the porch crying. Second, I don't need anyone to protect me. I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself. If I feel like Ronnie is doing something wrong or not treating me "right," I have no problem saying something..."

"But..."

"I don't need you fighting my battles for me. And, you know what, there's no battle here but the one you're creating."

Lynn inwardly flinched.

"I don't know where you came up with this stuff about Ronnie being a controlling bitch, but you're wrong."

"Lincoln, she..."

"You don't know what she is and what she isn't," Lincoln said firmly. "You don't know her. In fact, how many times have you guys even talked? You'd probably get along since you're so much alike."

"I am not like her."

Lincoln nodded. "Yes you are. You're both aggressive and take-charge kind of people."

Lynn started to protest, but stopped. Was...was he right? Was she just like Ronnie Anne Santiago? And was she really the asshole? She thought back to that afternoon when she watched Lincoln and Ronnie from across the cafeteria, hating how happy they looked. And they did look happy.

She sighed and bowed her head; she was on the verge of tears and she didn't want Lincoln to see. I really am the asshole. And I'm selfish. She hated seeing them so happy because it should have been her and not Ronnie. She was so caught up in wanting her brother that she completely lost sight of what he wanted and what made him happy.

And what made him happy was Ronnie Anne Santiago.

Not Lynn Loud.

"I'm sorry," Lynn said, "I just...I care about you."

Lincoln sighed. "I appreciate that. It's nice to know my big sis is looking out for me."

"I'll back off."

He squeezed her shoulder. "Thank you."

When he was gone, she buried her face in her pillow and cried again. Even though it would only make things harder on him, she should have said something...she should have told him she was in love with him.