Ronnie Anne spent the rest of the night and the following morning feeling absolutely hollow inside. She dragged herself downstairs to the kitchen and poured herself three bowls of cereal back-to-back, in a vain attempt to feel whole again. Alas, all she got for her trouble was a stomachache, and even that couldn't distract her from the memory of her abject failure against Lapis Lazuli.
Bobby tried prodding her with questions, but the commute to school wasn't nearly enough time for her to explain everything, so she just brushed him off. To her dismay, once she got to school she received no such concern from Lincoln. Upon seeing him in the courtyard, he could only muster up a half-hearted "hi" and a wave, before turning his eyes back toward the floor. The boy, it seemed, was too busy ruminating on his own failures from the day before yesterday.
When they met up for lunch that day, they barely even said a word to each other for the first five minutes after taking their seats. They just stared down at their food, occasionally nibbling at it.
After a long, uncomfortable spell, Ronnie spoke up.
"It's your turn today," she said.
"Yup."
She sighed, reached into her bag, pulled out the goggles and started scraping them across the lunch table towards him.
But by the time they were halfway to their destination point... something stirred inside of her. A voice in the back of her mind beckoned her to stop - perhaps a deep-seated desire for closure, dreading the prospect of spending another 24 hours stewing in her own feelings of inadequacy. Whatever it was, it compelled her to pull the goggles back towards her.
"Actually, could I have these for just one more day?"
Lincoln stared at her blankly for a few seconds, as if to give his mind a few seconds to process what she said.
"But... it's my turn."
"I know, but I... last night, it was... and Steven... and this morning, I..."
She struggled to explain herself, as every other word seemed to hole itself up in her throat. It was as if her tongue was vetoing every possible sentence that her brain could come up with.
"...look, just one day, okay? Please? That's all I ask."
He gave her a look, reached over to grab the goggles and started tugging them away. "Come on, Ronnie Anne, stop being weird. It's my turn. You can have them tomorrow."
A needle of pain pricked her heart as she saw the goggles moving away from her. In that one moment, all of her inhibitions and her sense of tact were disabled, her filters removed - just enough time for her to glower at him, bare her teeth and spew out the following sentence.
"I bet you just want to see your beloved Connie again!"
Lincoln gasped, jerking his hand away from the goggles as if they were scalding hot. "N-no!" he cried. "It's just- it's just my turn! We agreed to take turns every day!"
His frightened tone prompted her to come back to her senses, and it suddenly occurred to her what she had just said. Once her brain's executive functioning resumed, she realized that she had two options at this juncture; either back off and apologize, or save face by doubling down. That, and she only had one second to make the decision.
In her panic, she chose the latter.
"Don't lie to me!" she snapped. "You're always gushing about how smart she is, about how pretty she is! When was the last time you said anything like that about me?!"
Lincoln, for the record, had spoken highly of Ronnie Anne to his other friends and family plenty of times, and she knew that. In that moment, though, the truth didn't matter; all that mattered was saying just the right thing to make him feel as small and as guilty as possible.
Before she could ready another attack, though, she saw him meeting her glare with one of his own.
"Well, why do you want it so badly, huh?!" he cried. "Maybe you just want to fawn over Steven some more!"
Ronnie Anne flinched, unprepared for the counter attack. "N-no, I-"
"Guess I'm just too boring for you now, huh? I'm sorry I don't have super strength or a pet lion or a magical shield that pops out of my belly button!"
Sensing that Lincoln was putting her on the defensive, she steeled herself and struck back. "If you think I only like Steven for his superpowers, you've got a lot of growing up to do."
He cringed, as her words brought his memory of the scolding he got from Connie rising up to the surface. "W-what's that supposed to mean?!" he choked out, clenching his fists.
"It means that maybe you could learn a thing or two from Steven if he was here."
"Oh, you mean like how to steal your affection?!"
She gasped and rocked back in her chair, stunned by the sheer chutzpah of what Lincoln had said to her. If she had been paying closer attention, she might have noticed that a twinge of regret was visible in his eyes the second after he spoke. Sadly, she hadn't and she didn't.
Once the shock died down again and she found the wherewithal to move, she slammed her hand onto the goggles and shoved them across the table towards him.
"You know what? Forget it. Take the goggles. In fact, keep them for all I care. Have a nice time with your cute little bookworm."
Lincoln snatched the goggles and stuffed them into his backpack. "Fine!" he yelled.
"Fine!" she yelled back.
"FINE!" they yelled in unison, before stomping away from each other. Neither of them noticed that the rest of the cafeteria was now staring at them - and if they did, they probably wouldn't have cared.
Lincoln spent the rest of the school day in near silence, with a perma-scowl etched onto his face. At one point, Clyde asked him what was wrong, and was given little more than a snort in response. He slunk away, wondering what he could have possibly done wrong.
In fact, nobody was able to provoke a verbal response from him until he returned home. He walked in the door and stomped up the stairs, only to be confronted with an irate Lola coming out of the bathroom. He neither knew nor cared what she was angry about, so he figured he could just stay out of her way until she simmered down. Alas...
"Liiiiincoln!" she cried. "You left gobs of toothpaste in the sink this morning! It's gross!"
Aaaand it looks like it's my fault, he thought. Of course it is.
The boy turned to her and shot her a glower so biting that it nearly made her flinch.
"Oh, I did, did I?" he growled. "That's just what I need. Another person coming down on me. It's just my lot in life to keep screwing things up and get berated for it, isn't it? Lincoln Loud, the walking disaster! Everything he touches turns to trash!"
Lola took a timid step away from him, as all traces of indignation left her face. "That- I- that's not what I... I was just-"
She was cut off by Lynn, who heard the whole exchange and had just popped out of her room to accost Lincoln. "What's your problem, Stinkoln?! Lola was just trying to-"
[SLAM]
Before she could even finish her sentence, Lincoln stormed into his room and slammed the door behind him. As he unloaded his backpack onto his bed, he heard a few muffled, angry voices from the other side of the door, which eventually died down. What didn't die down, however, were the combined criticisms of Connie, Ronnie Anne and his sisters swirling around his head. He gazed bitterly at the goggles resting near his pillow.
What's the point?, he thought. No matter which timeline I'm in, I'll always be a screw up.
"Lincoln?" came the stern voice of Lori from outside the door. "Can you please open the door? We need to talk to you."
Lincoln groaned, as his eyes drifted back towards the goggles. At this juncture, he saw only two options: either step out into the hall and endure a thorough scolding from all his sisters (and possibly his parents), or take his chances with the goggles. After mulling it over for a moment or two, he picked the latter, reasoning that there'd be at least a chance that his alternate self would rebound.
"Later," he said, reaching for the goggles and strapping them on. "I'm busy."
He heard the faint murmur of several feminine voices, followed by the following line from Lori:
"Okay, then. Whenever you're ready."
Sighing with relief, he lied back on the bed and switched the goggles on. As luck would have it, just a few seconds after he had tuned out his reality, he received the following text from Ronnie Anne:
Lincoln, can we talk? I'm really sorry about what I said today.
