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Reeling in the Years	By : Flagg1991 Category: +G through L > The Loud House Views: 5080 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Loud House or its characters and I am not profiting from this story in any way.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
A shower of red and yellow autumnal leaves fell along the sidewalk as Luan strode purposely along, her back straight and her ponytail swinging side-to-side. She held a stack of flyers to her chest and wore a determined look. She was dressed in a white blouse, a plaid shirt, and socks pulled halfway to her knees. She was going for 'cute,' because when a cute kid knocks on your door, you tend to listen to what they have to say. True, at seventeen she wasn't really a 'kid,' but she was hoping to pass for fifteen or even fourteen.
She turned and followed a wide walkway to the bottom of someone's porch stairs. The house was a green Victorian with narrow windows and white trim. She looked up at it and nodded to herself.
At the door, she knocked and stepped back, rocking on her heels in a calculated attempt to increase the cuteness factor. Awww, a bouncy, energetic girl; what do you have to say, dear?
The door opened, and a man in a red sweater vest appeared. His hair was the color of steel and he was puffing on a pipe. Luan put on her biggest smile. "Hi, my name's Luan, and I was wondering if you've decided who you're going to vote for this November." She slipped one of the flyers out and handed it to him. On the front was a black and white picture of a young, handsome man in a dark suit. Below was a list of his positions on the issues. "Senator John F. Kennedy is the best choice this election season," Luan said. "He stands for civil rights, a strong military, economic prosperity, and a stronger America. He has..."
"I'm sorry," the man said, smoke puffing from his mouth, "but I'm voting for Nixon. It's encouraging to see such civic mindedness in our youth, though. I'm sure Senator Kennedy would be proud."
Sigh. Another for Nixon. If her day was any indication, that guy was going to win in a landslide. She beamed, however. "Thank you, sir. Have a good day."
She turned and went down the stairs, an errant leaf falling onto the concrete before her: She stepped down on it just a little harder than she had to. Stupid Nixon. Why would anyone vote for him? Didn't they see the same debate she saw last month, the one where Nixon was nervous and sweaty and looked like a drunk? Meanwhile, Kennedy was young and handsome and oh so eloquent. He was dreamy...and smart...and had good ideas. How could you not vote for him?
Taking a right, she started down the sidewalk but stopped when she saw Clyde McBride approaching her, a stack of papers in his hands. Luan liked Clyde, and always had. He was cute. He was much too young for her, though, which is why she never tried for him. She smiled and called out. "Hey, Clyde!"
He looked up, his glasses sliding down his nose, and returned her smile. "Hey, Luan!" He walked up and stopped.
"What'cha up to?" Luan asked.
Clyde grinned. "Canvassing."
"Me too! We should team up, I sure could use some help spreading the good word about JFK. I've been striking out left and right. Get it? Left and right?"
Clyde blinked. "Uh...actually...I'm for Nixon."
Luan's jaw hit her chest. "You? For Nixon?"
"Yup," Clyde said proudly. He took one of the flyers off his stack and handed it to her. It was much like her own, only instead of a young, handsome JFK, the picture on it was of old, gross Richard Nixon.
Luan couldn't believe it. "Clyde, you know JFK has a better track record on civil rights, don't you? He actually supports coloreds."
Clyde's brow furrowed. "Well, you might not know this, because it probably wasn't as big a deal for you as it was for me, but President Eisenhower's the one who desegregated schools, not John Kennedy."
Luan gasped, offended. "It was a big deal for me! I was very happy that day!" She started to say something else, but stopped herself and took a deep breath. "I disagree with your position, but I understand and respect it." There. That was the adult way to handle it, and being seventeen, she was an adult. Clyde was just a child...a poor misguided child who would one day grow up and see the errors of his ways.
"Likewise," he said.
An idea struck Luan then, and she grinned. "Hey...wanna team up and see who can get the most converts? There has to be some undecided voters left."
Clyde tossed a shoulder. "Sure, sounds fun."
They walked side-by-side down the street. "So, how are you?" Luan asked. "I haven't seen you much lately."
"I got a job," he said.
"Really? Where?"
"I work for a guy my father knows cleaning his horse stables. It's dirty work, but he pays pretty well."
Luan hummed appreciatively. "That's pretty cool."
They came to a pink house and climbed the stairs. A wind-chime tinkled in the chilly October breeze. Through the front window, Luan could see a lit lamp and a TV playing Divorce Court. She knocked on the door, and a woman got up from an armchair: She was wearing a pink house coat and had long, silvery hair. She opened the door and looked from Clyde to Luan. "Yes?"
"Hi, ma'am, my name is Luan, and I'm here on behalf of Senator Kennedy..."
Clyde cut her off. "And I'm Clyde. I'm here for Vice President Nixon."
"Senator Kennedy is –"
"Very inexperienced," Clyde said. "Vice President Nixon is a seasoned politician who knows how to lead and get things done."
Luan shot Clyde a dirty look, but he ignored her. She turned back to the woman and smiled prettily: "We in the Kennedy camp have a saying: Who's seasoned through and through but not so dog-gone seasoned that he won't try something new? Senator John F. Kennedy."
Clyde snorted. "Senator Kennedy's political career consists of a cameo appearance in the Senate and a few hours in the House of Representatives. Meanwhile, Vice President Nixon is –"
"An ugly, sweaty toad," Luan spat. She was starting to get angry.
Clyde whipped his head around, his eyes narrowing to slits. "At least Vice President Nixon doesn't have an annoying Boston accent."
"Senator Kennedy is a war hero," Luan said, her teeth clenching. "What did Nixon do in the war? Besides fighting a pencil across a desk?"
The woman looked back and forth between the two, concern on her face.
"Senator Kennedy will take us to the moon," Luan said, turning to her.
"Vice President Nixon will take us to Pluto," Clyde said, doing likewise.
"He'll also start a war with the Russians."
"Have you ever seen Senator Kennedy and Nikita Khrushchev in the same room?" Clyde asked. "No. Hmmm. Maybe because they're the same person."
"That's a lie!" Luan yelled.
"A vote for Kennedy is a vote for the Soviet Union."
Luan's eyes blazed with fury and her entire body trembled. "Nixon is a homosexual."
"He is not!"
Luan looked up at the woman. Her face was white and her eyes were wide. "Senator Kennedy will pay all your bills. Everything."
"Vice President Nixon will buy and personally deliver your groceries," Clyde said. "And give you money, too."
"Senator Kennedy is Jesus Christ reincarnated."
"Vice President Nixon is the original Jesus Christ."
"Uhhh..." the woman said, drawing back, "I don't think...I want to vote this year."
"Wait!" Luan cried. "Vote for Kennedy and I'll clean your gutters."
Clyde elbowed her aside. "Vote for Nixon and I'll shovel your sidewalk all winter."
Luan hip-checked Clyde. "Vote for Kennedy and I'll paint your house."
Clyde knocked the stack of flyers from Luan's hands, and they scattered across the porch. "Vice President Nixon would have seen that coming."
Luan wheeled around and knocked Clyde's flyers out of his hands. "Senator Kennedy would have seen that coming!"
The woman shut the door and closed the curtains.
"He can't see anything coming over that big nose of his," Clyde said, his hands flying to his hips.
Luan laughed harshly. "You're one to talk. Nixon's chin is so big it has its own zip code."
"Kennedy's father was a Nazi lover!"
"Nixon is a Nazi period!"
They were still arguing when a black and white police cruiser stopped at the curb...and they were still arguing as they were put into the back.
Lincoln Loud loved a good study date with his best girl, Ronnie Anne. He did not, however, love the third wheel...his brother, Lynn. Oh, he loved Lynn...he just didn't love Lynn being in the room when he and Ronnie Anne were stretched out side-by-side on the bed, their books open in front of them. It was awkward.
It also prevented him and Ronnie Anne from kissing...or even holding hands. Lynn would sit there on his bed, his back against the wall and his legs splayed out in front of him, and divide his attention between Sports Illustrated and them, sometimes jerking his head suddenly and violently up as if to catch them off-guard in the middle of doing something wrong. Lynn didn't much like it either. Sometimes when Lincoln or Ronnie Anne laughed, he would laugh too – mockingly, his lips scrunched and his head bobbing back and forth. "Hehehehehe, oh, Lincoln, you're so funny." Ronnie Anne would invariably flip him the finger, and he'd flip one back. Sometimes when they sparred in the backyard, Lincoln would give it his all just to pay Lynn back: Just the other day he knocked his brother's head off the ground on purpose because he really got on his nerves the night before.
Even though none of them liked the arrangement, it was the only way Lincoln's parents would let Ronnie Anne come over and study with him, so what was he to do? On the evening of October 24th, he and Ronnie Anne were lying on their stomachs and looking down at their history books. Neither one was particularly poor at history, but they wanted to spend time together, ya dig? Lynn was sitting on his bed and lazily paging through his magazine when he suddenly let out a groan. Lincoln turned just as his brother jumped up, his hand flying to his stomach. He turned his head as Lynn rushed down the hall and threw the bathroom door open, then slammed it behind him.
"What's with him?" Ronnie Anne asked.
"Guess he has to poop."
She glanced at him, and before she could stop him, he stole a quick kiss, his tongue skipping across hers. She blushed. "That was naughty, square-for-brains. We're not supposed to be doing that."
Lincoln shrugged. "Eh."
"Eh?"
Lincoln nodded. "Eh."
She giggled and turned back to her book. "You're a dork."
Lincoln glanced at the small of her back, his heart beginning to race as the thought of laying his hand on it came to him. Would she let him? It wasn't a bad thing, right? It's not like he was putting his hand up her dress. He drummed the fingers of his right hand on the mattress, started to move in that direction, then chickened out. He tried again, but went full wimp again. Sigh.
Taking a deep breath, she rolled onto her side and looked at him. "It's starting to get late."
Outside, darkness pressed against the window. Soon Bobby would be by to pick her up. Lincoln sighed. "Yeah."
She touched his arm and grinned devilishly. "Wanna make out real quick?"
Lincoln's heart seized. He glanced over his shoulder at the open door. He started to point it out, but Ronnie Anne cut him off. "We're fine. No one's going to see."
"I don't..."
She grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him into a hungry kiss, her tongue parting his lips and wrapping around his. Lincoln kissed her back, his hand creeping to her cheek, and she released his shirt, her palm flattening against his chest. Their tongues wrestled for dominance, and with every lick, Lincoln's passion rose, filling his body like boiling tar. His penis began to stir, and he felt a momentary rush of horror: What if she saw it and thought he was a pervert?
The sweet taste of her mouth and the way her tongue softly caressed his pushed that away. The kiss broke, and she grinned at him. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again...and undid the top button of her dress.
"W-What are you doing?"
She undid the second, then the third, never breaking eye contact: The corners of her mouth were turned sinfully up, and a shiver sparked downward through Lincoln's spine. She laid her hand on his and lifted it. For a minute his mind was haywire...he didn't understand what was happening...then she guided it, slipping it into her dress and pressing it against her breast. Bare flesh touched bare flesh, and Lincoln gasped as her rigid nipple brushed his palm. His fingers instinctively hooked, and her soft, warm mound filled his hand. A hazy look flickered across her eyes, and she moaned deep in her throat. Lincoln swallowed hard...his heart and his penis beat in time...his mind raced.
They stared into each other's eyes as he held her in his hand, her heart gently pounding against his palm. He tried to speak, but couldn't, so he kissed her instead, deeply and passionately, his hand beginning to rub and her heart beginning to beat faster. The kiss became more hungry, more urgent, and when she slipped her hand between his legs and squeezed his bulging erection, he panted into her mouth. Her fingertips dragged slowly along his length, and he shuddered, his breathing quick and shallow. They were no longer kissing: Their lips faintly touched, their hot breaths mingling.
After a minute, she pulled her hand away, and with it went her warmth. She looked up at him and he looked down at her. "Can I have my breast back?" she asked, and giggled. He pulled his hand out and she hurriedly buttoned her dress as Lincoln gaped. Did he really just touch her...breast? And did she really just touch his prick?
She touched his chin and pushed his jaw closed. "So," she said, "how'd you like second base?"
"A-A lot," he said shakily.
She giggled. "So did I." She leaned in, and when she spoke, her voice was low, as if she were imparting a great secret. "No one's ever touched me there before."
Lincoln nodded dumbly. "No one's ever...touched me...there before either."
"First time for everything," she said, and pecked his lips.
A few minutes later, Leni called up the stairs. "Ronnie, uh, like, Bobby's here."
"Alright!" she called back. She grabbed her history book and looked at Lincoln. "You wanna walk me downstairs?"
"I-I-I don't think I can."
Her brow furrowed, then she glanced down at his pants: His erection made a sizable tent in his khakis. She brushed her teeth across her bottom lip. "I did that, huh?" she asked, a hint of wonder in her voice. She looked up, and he nodded.
"Good," she said. "You made me, uh..." she blushed. "You made kind of like that too, but, like, in a girl way."
Lincoln tilted his head. Okay, he didn't know much about the female body, but he knew that girls didn't have anything to get hard. Ronnie Anne's blush deepened and she looked away. "When a girl gets...excited...she gets kind of...wet. And I'm kind of wet right now."
"So...you liked it?"
She nodded. "Yeah. I just told you that." She grinned and kissed his lips. "I'll see you at school."
For a long time Lincoln lay on his bed, his heart racing and his penis hard at the memory of her touch. When he was finally soft, he went downstairs to get a drink of water. He was just coming into the living room from the kitchen when Mom opened the door. Huh. Guess someone knocked.
"Good evening, ma'am," a policeman said. "Does this girl belong to you?"
Lincoln got closer, and saw Luan standing between two cops, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.
"Luan?" Mom gasped. "Yes! W-What did she do?"
The cop who had spoken sighed. "Let's see...littering, disturbing the peace...she also used a lot of bad words to describe Richard Nixon."
"Richard Nixon?" Mom asked, speaking the word as though she'd never heard it before.
"Yeah, she and a colored boy were arguing over who would make a better president. Your daughter was for Kennedy, the boy was for Nixon. It got pretty heated."
Something told Lincoln that the colored boy was Clyde. Clyde was really passionate about Nixon...just as passionate as Luan was about Kennedy.
"The boy actually brought up some good points," the other cop said. "I was going to go for Kennedy, but...I don't know now."
"I was thinking of Nixon, but the girl made a hell of a case for Kennedy." He shook his head. "Anyway, we let the boy go with a warning, so we're gonna do the same for your daughter."
"Thank you," Mom said.
The first cop tipped his hat, and as they left, Lincoln could hear them beginning to bicker. "Luan Marie Loud," Mom said firmly, "get to your room right this instant. You are grounded for the next two weeks."
Luan's face fell. "But, Mom..."
"And if you think you're watching the last Nixon-Kennedy debate, you are sorely mistaken, young lady."
"Mom, no!"
Mom stepped aside and pointed up the stairs.
"Please let me watch it! I'm begging you!"
"No. Get to your room. Now."
Luan broke out crying and ran up the stairs, slamming her door behind her.
If it was any consolation, several streets over, Clyde McBride cried himself to sleep after being given a similar punishment: Missing that debate would haunt him for the rest of his life.
- 9
- 10
- 11
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Reeling in the Years