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A Better Sister	By : Flagg1991 Category: +G through L > The Loud House Views: 8393 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Loud House, it belongs to Nickelodeon. This was written for fun and not profit.

Chapter List
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Lori doled out gifts to her siblings as they came home. They were all happy to have them, and Lori was happy that they were happy. At the end of it, though, she felt gutted, the way a child does after opening the last present on Christmas morning. Bobby texted her at 3:15, and, steeling her resolve, she went upstairs, sat her phone on the nightstand, and walked away from it. Sorry, Bobby; I’m busy.

Outside, Lincoln and Lynn still threw the football. In the kitchen, Luna was rummaging in the fridge for something to eat, wearing her new Mick Swagger T-shirt. “Hey, sis,” Lori said, “hungry.”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“There’s pizza in there.”

“Oh, cool.” Luna had seen the box sitting on the bottom shelf on top of a carton of eggs and a tub of butter, but she figured it was Lori’s, and you don’t eat another person’s food, especially hers. She’d flip.

Taking the box, Luna turned, sat it on the counter, and closed the fridge door. She took a slice out and folded it. Must be from Pauly’s; their slices were huge.

“How was your day?” Lori asked.

“It was alright,” Luna said. “I got an A on my history test.”

“Oh, good!” Lori said happily. “You doing good in everything else?”

“Yeah, pretty good.” Luna slapped her pizza onto a plate, returned the box to the fridge, and started into the living room.

Lori followed.

“You got any plans tonight? Maybe you can play me some of your new stuff.” Lori had absolutely no idea what new songs Luna had written; she just knew that Luna played her guitar fast and loud, and it got on her nerves.

Luna dropped onto the couch. “Actually, me and some of my girls are going to a show at this place downtown. It’s pretty rad.”

Lori felt a rise of disappointment. “Oh. Well...have fun.”

“Thanks,” Luna said, turning the TV on.

Leni came down the stairs and made her way through the living room. Lori stepped in front of her; they almost collided.

“Hey, Leni! You want me to do your nails later?”

“No, thank you,” Leni said, “I have a dress I need to work on. It’s part of my application to the Chicago School of Design.”

“Oh,” Lori said, her shoulders sagging slightly. “Maybe I can help.”

“I don’t know, it’s pretty intricate. Even I’m having trouble with it.”

Leni passed by and went into the kitchen. “There’s pizza if you’re hungry!” Lori called after her.

Upstairs, Lori found Luan sitting on her bed, her legs crossed, furiously typing on her laptop. “Hey,” Lori said.

Luan looked up. “Hey.” She looked back down, her determined face bathed a soft electric blue. Her tongue was absently plastered to her upper lip in a display of concentration. She stopped, scanned what she’d written, and looked back at Lori.

“Do you...need me?”

“I was thinking maybe you could do your routine for me.” She flashed a big smile. “Or try out some new stuff on me.”

“Sorry,” Luan said, “but I’m really busy. I have to write a five thousand word report on the cause and effect of the Great Depression.”

Lori blinked. “That’s...that’s kind of intense for seventh grade.”

“I’m in eighth grade.”

Sigh. You don’t even know what grade your little sister is in. You really are pathetic.

Before her siblings got home, she sat down and drew up a list of things she knew about each one and things that she didn’t, simple, elementary things that she would know if she spent a little more quality time with them. She knew Luna’s favorite singer was Mick Swagger. She did not, however, know who Luan or Lynn’s favorite singer was. Surely they had to have one. Everyone liked some kind of music, right? She didn’t know who Lincoln’s favorite band was, though she was fairly certain the name had something to do with lips. Kiss? No, that was a silly name for a band.

So much she didn’t know. It was depressing.

Apparently she should have added their grades to the list.

“That’s what I meant,” Lori said. “Still intense.”

Luan shrugged. “I guess.”

“Do you...need any help?”

“No, I got it, but thanks.”

“Alright,” Lori sighed. She went out into the hall just as Lisa emerged from the bathroom. She brightened. “Hey, Lise...”

“Can’t talk, busy,” Lisa said, going into her room and shutting the door, leaving Lori alone in the hall. Lucy!

Lori went into her younger sister’s room, but she wasn’t there. She checked under the bed, in the closet. Nothing. Sighing, Lori put her hands on her hips and looked helplessly around. If she was an eight-year-old goth, where would she be? Somewhere dark and lonely.

Like the vents.

That’s it!

Lori climbed onto Lucy’s bed, removed the grate, and stuck her head into the shaft. There, just down the way, her knees drawn to her chest, a notebook balanced in her lap and a pen pressed thoughtfully to her chin, was Lucy.

“Hey, Luce!”

Lucy jumped, smacking her head on the roof of the shaft and letting out a tiny, frightened cry. She wheeled around, her hand flying to her chest.

“Sorry,” Lori said.

“Now I know how you guys feel when I sneak up on you,” Lucy panted.

“What’cha working on?”

“A new poem.”

Lori nodded. “Cool. What’s it about?”

“A vampire who likes little girls.”

Lori flinched. “Like...like-likes?”

“Yes.”

She opened her mouth to say something else, but what could she say to that?

“You want to...read it to me?”

“It’s not done,” Lucy said. “It’s not even really started.”

“Oh. Okay. Where’d you get the idea?”

“A movie I saw.”

“What movie?”

“The Vampire Next Door.”

“Who’s in it?”

“Robert Fronce.”

“Who’s that?”

“He played Eddie Cougar.”

“Who’s that?”

“Lori...you’re annoying me.” Lucy picked up her notebook and went back to writing. Wounded, Lori muttered, “Sorry,” and got down, leaving her spooky little sister to her weird poems.

Was she being annoying? Was she being too...desperate? She thought back to the interactions she’d had with her siblings. She didn’t think so. She just wanted to spend time with them. That’s all. Make up for not being the best big sister in the world. Make up for having her nose buried in her phone and for bossing them around and acting like she was Queen Bee because she was the oldest.

She bet Bobby didn’t do that. Bobby nurtured his sister and guided her through life and was there for her and would do anything in the world for her. You know who he reminded her of? Lincoln. Lincoln was like that. He was always going out of his way to do nice things and help people. Sometimes he got dragged into doing it, but usually he did it out of the kindness of his own heart. Why couldn’t she be like that? Why couldn’t she be like Lincoln?

Speaking of Lincoln, were he and Lynn still outside? Could they use a third person for their game? She went downstairs and got her answer when Lynn streaked past her, almost knocking her over. She dashed up the stairs and disappeared. Lori watched her go, then turned as Lincoln came into the living room. “What’s up with her?”

“She has to...uh... ‘bomb the bowl.’”

“Ew.”

In the kitchen, dad was running around with a frilly pink apron on and looking lost. Lori went in. “Hey, dad, what’s up?”

“Lilly’s up from her nap and I’m trying to get dinner ready. I’m so overwhelmed.”

“What are you making?”

“Beans and franks.”

Lori crinkled her nose. She hated those damn beans and franks. But they were simple to make...

An idea struck Lori. “Go get Lilly and I’ll finish dinner.”

“Are you sure?” dad asked.

“Yeah,” Lori said, waving her hand. “Go ahead.”

“Alright,” dad said, stripping out of his apron and throwing in onto the breakfast bar. “Thanks, sweetie.”

“I love you,” she said, and kissed him on the cheek as he passed.

“I love you too.”

When she was alone, she went to the counter. A gianormous can of beans sat next to two packs of hotdogs. Lori stood over them for a minute, her hand on her chin. So...did he, like, boil the hotdogs and then put them in the beans? Did he cook them separately, or did he cook them together? And did he cut the hotdogs up before he cooked them, or after? Probably after.

She got a knife from the drawer, cut the packs open, and put a bunch of the hotdogs onto a plate. Did he add anything extra? Like spices? She didn’t think so. His beans and franks were pretty bland.

She started cutting the hotdogs, the chunks ugly and uneven. Maybe she could add some pizazz and be the hero of the night. What could...?

Wait a minute. Why was she cutting them up now?

Damn it.

Well, she was too far along to stop now. She finished cutting them up, filled a pot with water, and then sat it on the burner, which she turned on. She carried the plate over and dumped it in. She went back to the counter, got a can opener, and opened the beans. She put them in another pot and put them on a second burner. She then went to the pantry, opened it, and scanned the spice rack. She saw mustard seed, garlic powder, onion powder, cinnamon, chili powder, clove, and a bunch of other stuff. She didn’t really look. She grabbed the garlic powder and the onion powder. At the stove, she sprinkled a little of each into the beans. Hm. Looked a little...skimpy. So she added more of both until the beans were coated.

After letting the hotdogs boil for a while, she turned off the burner and stirred the beans. They belched and splattered all over the stovetop and her shirt. Ugh.

When she was sure the beans were done, she took them off the burner, threw the hotdogs in and stirred it all together.

She went into the living room, quite proud of herself. “Oh, family!” she called out in a singsong voice, “dinner is ready!”

They were at the dining room table, a plate loaded with beans and franks before each of them. Lori insisted on serving everyone. “Dig in,” she said, “I hope you like it.”

Everyone took a bite almost simultaneously except for Lori, who hopefully watched their faces, hoping to see orgasmic rapture.

Instead, with a falling heart, she saw the complete opposite. Dad made a gagging face, mom’s eyes widened, Luna spit it out, Lola coughed and nearly fell out of her chair, Lynn’s brow creased, Lincoln fought valiantly to swallow, and when he had, he bent over, panting. Lana, who hadn’t taken a bite yet, picked up a hotdog, looked at it, and plopped it into her mouth. Her eyes widened, but she swallowed anyway. “Aw, man, that’s grody!”

“It’s not bad,” dad said, obviously lying.

Lori looked down at her plate, bitter disappointment coursing through her. She forked a piece of hotdog, lifted it to her mouth, and took a tiny bite: The overpowering taste of garlic filled her mouth, and she gagged.

“It is gross!”

“I don’t know how you did it, Lori,” Lynn said, “but you made an even worse dinner than dad.”

Lori broke down crying then. She covered her face, got up, and ran from the room. “Lori!” dad called after her.

At the table, everyone glared at Lynn, who shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“You hurt her feelings,” Luna said.

“Way to go, waterboy,” Luan said, crossing her arms.

“You’re worse than I am,” Lola said, turning her nose up.

“Your sister went out of her way to make a nice dinner,” mom said, “...and while she didn’t exactly succeed, she tried.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Lynn said, “I was just playing around.” A hurt look of shame crossed her face.

“I’ll go talk to her,” Lincoln said, getting up. He hated to see his sisters cry.

At Lori’s door, he knocked. Beyond it, he could hear the muffled sounds of weeping. “Go away!”

“It’s me,” Lincoln said, “Lincoln. Can I come in?”

She didn’t reply, so he opened the door and poked his head in. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, a pillow pressed against her face. Lincoln’s heart broke, and he slipped in, fully aware that she could snap his head off but not caring. She was his sister and she needed him.

Approaching with caution, he sat on the edge of the bed, not exactly sure what to say. Sure, your dinner sucked, but you get an A for effort. For a long time he simply sat there, his hands on his knees. Then he reached out and patted Lori’s leg, her skin silky smooth: He yanked his hand back, cussing himself. Don’t weird her out!

“I’m sorry I ruined dinner,” Lori finally said, setting the pillow aside. Her eyes were puffy and her cheeks were wet. There was a look of abject misery on her face, and Lincoln suddenly felt himself on the verge of tears.

“It’s alright,” he said, looking away. “It happens.”

“I feel like such a failure,” she said. “First with you guys now with this. I can’t do anything right.”

Lincoln looked at her. “What do you mean ‘with you guys’?”

Lori looked away, and it was evident to Lincoln that she didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to press her. He wanted to respect her space and privacy.

“I feel like I haven’t been a good big sister,” she finally said, somewhat sullenly.

“What are you talking about? You’re a great big sister.”

“No, I’m not. I’m almost an adult and out of the house and there’s so much I don’t even know about you guys, so much stuff I haven’t done and said and it makes me so sad.” She grabbed the pillow and hugged it.

“Lori,” Lincoln started, but didn’t know how to continue. He looked down his lap and rubbed the back of his neck. “I-I think you’re the best oldest sister a guy could have.” He looked up at her. “And we’ve had a lot of good times. Come to think of it, there really isn’t anything else I could ask for.”

Lori continued hugging the pillow, listening. When he was done, she said, “I don’t feel like I was there enough. I feel like I’m just...there....and the rest of you are all in this big group and here I am, above it all because I’m a stuck-up bitch.”

“I feel that way too,” Lincoln admitted heavily, then hastened to add: “I mean, I feel like you guys are a unit and I’m on the outside.” He crossed his own arms, suddenly cold. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t even belong here. Like I’m intruding in your lives.”

Hot tears filled his eyes, and he fought to keep from washing him away.

“Linc...” Lori said, putting her arm around him. That one touch, and that one softly spoken word, pushed Lincoln over the edge, and the dam burst. Lori pulled him close, resting her chin on the top of his head. “Of course you belong here,” she said. “Lincoln, we all love you. You’re, like, one of the most precious things in our lives.”

“I know,” he said when he finally got the tears to stop. “I still feel that way. Like, I look around and I feel like this isn’t really my home...and I think I’m adopted and how horrible that would make me feel because I’m not really your brother and everyone knows it but me and they don’t love me the same.”

“Linc,” she said. Now it was her turn to not know what to say. “Why do you feel like that? You know you’re not adopted, and we love you so much.” She sighed. “In fact, sometimes I think you keep this family together, and it makes me kind of jealous because you’re doing all that and here I am sitting on my hands.”

“I know I shouldn’t feel that way, but I do. I just...want to fit in.”

Lori wordlessly hugged her brother as tight as she could, tears filling her eyes. How terrible to feel like a stranger in your own home!

It was her fault. She was supposed to be the rock of her siblings, but she failed them, and here was proof positive: Her brother literally feeling like he didn’t belong in the family. “I’m sorry if I was never the big sister you needed,” she said. “But I promise you, Lincoln, I love you. We all love you. You belong here and we’re so glad you are here. You might stand out because you’re the only boy...but we need you.”

For a long time, they clung to each other, neither one speaking, both enjoying the comforting presence of the other. “Come on,” Lori finally said, wiping her eyes. “Let’s go see if dad ordered a pizza. I’m starving.”
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A Better Sister