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Country Bumpkins	By : Flagg1991 Category: +G through L > The Loud House Views: 4038 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own The Loud House or any of its characters. I will not profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Country Bumpkins
- 1
On a bright early spring afternoon, Lincoln Loud stood on the covered platform of the Royal Woods Greyhound station with his hands thrust into his pockets. Beside him, Lori was bent over her phone, thumbs blazing across the keyboard and producing a steady tick-tick-tick that grated on his already overwrought nerves.

It was just after 1pm and they’d been waiting for almost fifteen minutes, first in the stuffy terminal, then out here, where the blessed, wildflower scented breeze caressed their faces and dried the sweat on their brows. Lori was super excited to see Bobby after six months apart, and insisted on leaving the house an hour earlier than they had to. Lincoln couldn’t be too mad at her, though, because he was just as excited to see Ronnie Anne.

At the thought of her name, Lincoln’s stomach twisted into strange and painfully shapes that, he imagined, looked an awful lot like hearts. He licked his dry lips and drew a deep breath, then let it out in a shaky rush. He liked Ronnie Anne. A lot. Before she moved to the city last year, they spent most of their time together, and though they did normal stuff, like play video games and ride bikes, everything they did was somehow better than when he did it with someone else. Being with her left him feeling good, like a man high on the sweetest drug, and her moving away was like losing a vital part of himself. He knew even then that he wanted her to be his girlfriend, but he didn’t have the courage to tell her. He and Lori took the bus into the city six months ago, and he promised himself that he would tell her then.

Only he didn’t. She acted like kind of a bully to impress her new friends, and he chickened out. His emotions had been festering inside of himself like cancer ever since, steadily growing stronger and more insistant with each passing day until it consumed him. This time, he decided, he was going to tell her come hell or high water.

“They’re almost here,” Lori said in a singsong voice, and Lincoln’s middle clutched. He looked up the platform, but Royal Street stood empty in the golden May sunshine. A split rail fence lined the far shoulder, and beyond that, a grassy field stretched away to the backs of the houses lining Fox Meade Court. Crows dipped and wheeled through the dusty blue sky and way off to the west, a silvery dot made its way south toward Detroit International. Lincoln was suddenly and inexplicably sweating again and an unseen fist wrapped around his chest, restricting his airways. He took a deep, unsatisfying breath and lifted his arm to sniff his pits. The fragrance of the Axe he put on before leaving the house lingered like a faint memory. Next, he cupped his hand and blew a puff of air into it.

When Lori snorted, he tensed. “Look at you,” she said. There was a kittenish inflection in her voice and Lincoln’s face blushed. “Getting all ready.” She gave his arm a playful nudge, and Lincoln flashed a tight smile. Lori was all too interested in his love life and asked him really embarrassing questions, like if he ever kissed a girl and once if he was a leg man, a butt man, or a boob man. He was not comfortable talking about that stuff with his sister...or anyone else for that matter, except for Clyde.

Lori meant well, but she had a way - like all his sisters - of getting in his business and causing trouble. She tried to set him up with Carol Pingrey’s little sister Connie, but Connie was...how to put this nicely...a spoiled little brat for whom nothing was ever good enough. She did nothing but whine their entire date because wah wah wah, Gus’s is gross and you won me the red teddy bear, I wanted the blue teddy bear. Oh, then there was the time she set him up on a blind date with Becky’s cousin Carey...who turned out to be a boy. When he told Lori, her hand fluttered to her mouth. Oh...s-sorry, Linc.

“Just making sure I don’t stink,” he said.

“For Ronnie Anne?”

His blush deepened. Ugh, leave me alone. “For everyone,” he said.

“Umhm,” Lori hummed knowingly. There was a dangerous glint in her eye, and his stomach knotted even more than it already was. He knew that look. I’m going to play Cupid and meddle in your affairs, it said. It also said you’re going to have a long, humiliating day, Linc.

He turned and looked up at Lori, hoping his expression wasn’t as beseeching as it felt. Girls are like sharks, if they sense weakness, they go in for the kill. They can’t help it, it’s in their biology or something. “Please...just...don’t do anything.”

“Me?” she asked with contrived innocence. “I literally have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The twinkle of her eye betrayed her lie. “Yes you do!” he jerked. “Please...do not meddle. Bad things happen when you meddle.”

Lori held up her hands, palms out, like he was a cop. “I’m not going to do anything. I promise.” She poked her left breast and made an X over her heart. A wicked little grin played at the corners of her mouth and bile rose in the back of Lincoln’s throat. She was lying; she was going to insert herself into his business like a fan artist into her OC and there was nothing Lincoln could do to dissuade her.

Short of punching her lights out.

That wasn’t an option, though, for multiple reasons, so he’d just have to be ready and spend the whole day running damage control.

Sigh. All he wanted to do was have a nice visit with Ronnie Anne. Why couldn’t he have a nice visit with Ronnie Anne? Sometimes it was like the universe was out to get him. He played middle man and peacemaker for his sisters so much he usually wound up missing out on things, like that camping trip where he served as their butler all weekend, or one of the many times they went to the mall and he bounced around helping each one (Leni modeling dresses, Lynn testing the firmness of sportsballs against his head, Lori finding a gift for Bobby) only to have no time for the comic book store.

It was really easy to resent these girls.

Before he could lapse into sullen self-pity, however, Lori gave an ear-piercing squee and jumped up and down. “They’re here!”

A blue on gray bus pulled into the terminal, and Lincoln’s heart seized like a stroke victim on the bathroom floor. It drew alongside the platform, his and Lori’s reflections skimming across the tinted windows like visions on the surface of black waters, and came to a rolling stop in a whoosh of air brakes. Lori thrummed with pent-up energy, and Lincoln took a big step to the left. The moment Bobby showed his face, she’d probably take off like a rocket and knock him down.

The accordion doors folded open, and Lincoln licked his dry lips. Did he look okay? He wore jeans and an orange polo, not too formal but not too casual either. DId he wear this the last time he saw Ronnie Anne? Oh, God, he did, didn’t he? Stupid, stupid, stupid, now he looked like a slob who never changed his clothes. She’d take one look at him, crinkle her cute little button nose in disgust, and turn around and get back on the bus. Of all the shirts and pants he owned, he just had to pick the exact same ones he had on last time.

Maybe she wouldn’t notice.

Yeah, and maybe Lori wouldn’t ruin his day.

Hahahaha.

A fat woman in a pink dress and sun hat emerged from the bus, followed by a black guy in a red Yankees cap and a teenage girl with spikey, lime green hair and a nose ring. Suspense swelled in Lincoln’s stomach until he felt full and distended and his lungs burst for air. When Bobby stepped off, clad in jeans and a green plaid shirt (hey, didn’t he wear that six months ago?), Lori charged him like a lioness running down a gazelle. He broke out in a sunny grin, and throwing her arms around his neck, she swept him into a tight embrace that squeezed a breathless oof from his chest. He laughed and hugged her back.

Before they could start kissing, Lincoln flicked his eyes to the door. A little girl in pigtails skipped off, then Ronnie Anne appeared, her hands thrust into the pockets of her yellow Royal Woods hoodie. Her black hair spilled over her shoulders like liquid night, and the sun set her bronzen skin afire. She stepped onto the platform and looked around. Their eyes met and she smiled warmly. Lincoln started to smile back, then faltered when Nikki, her friend from the city, popped up behind, looming over her like a tall, skinny bird.

Oh. He didn’t know she was coming.

Tall and thin with long, springy legs that put him in mind of that Spongebob episode where SB takes Pearl to prom, Nikki wore a blue hoodie, jeans that stopped well above her bony ankles, and ratty pink slip-on shoes with rundown heels. A spill of lank blonde hair covered her right eye, and her lips turned up in a cocky smile that revealed one missing tooth. She bent and jumped from the step, landing next to Ronnie Anne and throwing her shoulders arrogantly back.

Lincoln hesitated. He didn’t know Nikki very well, but she was okay. He just...was kind of hoping for privacy. With her tagging along, that was out the window.

Whatever. If he had to profess his love for Ronnie Anne in front of her gangly friend, so be it. Nothing, read nothing, was going to keep him from doing this. By the end of the day, Ronnie Anne would know how he felt, for better or worse.

Taking a deep breath and holding his head high, he walked over.

Nikki, slouched now, darted her eyes around the platform and nudged Ronnie Anne’s arm. “So this is where you’re from, huh? Talk about Smallville. You were right to be ashamed of his place. It’s smaller than your cousin CJ’s brain.” She snorted and shook her head, then froze when she saw him. Her smile sharpened, and unless he was mistaken, there was an almost predatory quality to it. “What up, Snow White?”

“Hey,” he said tightly. Nikki’s thing was teasing. She loved messing with you, sometimes by picking on you, and sometimes by getting you to fall for outrageous stories that were as tall as she was. The first time he met her, she had him believing the city’s sewer system was filled with alligators, and that some of the rats in the deeper warrens were bigger than dogs. Yeah, man, she said with an portentous nod. They were sitting on the steps of a public library and eating soft pretzels Ronnie Anne’s mom bought from a street vendor. if the rats and gators don’t get you, all the gangbangers will. Four out of five people in this city represent. Getting shot isn’t a question of if, White Top, it’s a question of when. After that, she picked on him about being from a small town. She called him Barney from Mayberry, Bajno Bob, Cotton Eye Joe, and Deliverance.

After dealing with Lynn, Ronnie Anne, Lana, and...Jeez, every girl in his life...being teased a little was nothing. Nikki, however, took it a little too far sometimes. And by that, he didn’t mean she was especially cruel, she just didn’t know when to stop. She kept going and going and going until it was annoying.

He was suddenly aware of Ronnie Anne looking at him, and his throat went dry. He turned to her and forced himself to meet her eyes. “H-Hey, Ronnie Anne,” he stammered.

“Hey, Linc,” she replied smoothly. She yanked her hands out of her hoodie and punched him lightly in the arm. It wouldn’t have hurt if her knuckles weren’t so bony. “Still as limp and noodly as ever, I see.”

Before he could reply, Nikki cut him off. “I dunno, he looks like he’s been working out. What are you benching these days, killer? 25? 30?” She twisted around and drove her elbow into his chest. Felt like a gunshot.

With Nikki, your only defense was to play along. It was the only way. “32, actually,” he said self-effacingly, “I just increased it.”

“Wow,” Nikki said, “way to go, Spongebob. At this rate you’ll be lifting gallons of milk all by yourself in no time.” She looked around again and winced. Lincoln and Ronnie Anne followed her gaze; Lori and Bobby were kissing...deeply...Bobby’s hands on Lori’s hips and Lori’s leg kicked back. Lincoln’s lips puckered and his penis retracted into his stomach. “You better pull your brother off before he eats her,” Nikki said, and the suggestive hilt in her voice was not lost on Lincoln.

Lincoln cleared his throat. Neither Bobby or Lori noticed, and he did it again, louder. They pulled away from each other and looked at him, their eyes hazy. “Can you...not do that?” he asked.

“Sorry,” Lori said and uttered a sheepish laugh. She turned back to Bobby and raked her fingers through his hair. “I’m just so happy to see my boo boo snuggly-wuggly bear.”

Nikki gagged. “Wow, she really does do that. Your sister’s a dork, Snowflake.”

Yes. She was.

Clasping their hands together, Bobby and Lori lead them into the terminal, a wide space with gleaming tile floors, puke yellow walls, and tattered leather chairs. Lincoln walked between Nikki and Ronnie Anne, his hands awkwardly at his sides. He watched Ronnie Anne from the corner of his eye and longed to hold her hand as well, but they were in her hoodie. Maybe he should make a move. Fortune favors the bold, they say.

They were outside on the wraparound breezeway fronting the parking lot. A sea of cars glimmered in the sun. Vanzilla was parked close to the strip of grass separating the lot from Pine Street. Wavering trees lined the sidewalk and screened the low rent industrial buildings on the other side. They stopped to let a car pass, and taking a deep breath, Lincoln thrust his hand level with his waist, palm out and fingers wiggling. Ronnie Anne looked down at it, then up at his face, brow arching quizzically. She didn’t look receptive, and his cheeks burned.

“Aw, does little baby whitehead need someone to hold his hand?” Nikki asked. She snatched Lincoln’s wrist and dragged him close, upsetting his balance. He cried out in alarm and wobbled, but kept his footing. “Don’t worry, champ,” she said and pulled him along like a dog on a leash, “we’ll get you there in one piece.”

Ronnie Anne snickered, and Lincoln let out a heavy sigh.

At the van, Bobby and Ronnie Anne went around the side, and Lori climbed in behind the wheel. Nikki started to follow, but Lori stopped her. “Can you and Lincy go grab a couple of visitor guides from the rack by the door, please?” she asked.

Nikki looked over her shoulder, spotted the rack, and shrugged. “‘Ight.” She spun around and yanked Lincoln with, nearly dislocating his shoulder. Her tallon like finger dug into the soft flesh of his wrist and sent tendrils of pain up his arm.

It took everything he had to keep from ripping away.

At the rack, she released him, and he flexed his hand and rolled his neck while Nikki scanned the selection of pamphlets with a thoughtful hum. She rocked back and forth on her heels and scrunched her lips from side to side. “How come a town this small needs so many guides?”

“There’s a lot to do here,” Lincoln said defensively.

“Like what?” she asked.

“The arcade. And the movie theater. And...and lots of stuff.”

Actually, now that he thought about it, there weren’t a lot of attractions in Royal Woods. He didn’t mind, but to someone from the city, it was libel to be a pretty boring place. Even so, he loved his hometown, and her picking on it was already starting to get old.

“Doesn’t sound like a lot,” she said, “sounds pretty lame.”

Lincoln shook his head. First, she comes, then Ronnie Anne shot down his very first advance. Something told him this wasn’t going to be a very good day.

He brought up a vision of Ronnie Anne’s face when he tried to hold her hand. The look of bemusement was painfully obvious...the expression of a girl who recognized her suitor, and did not want him.

A sharp pang cut through his stomach and he drew a labored breath. He could still salvage this. All he had to do was sit her down and bear his heart. Girls love that sort of thing, right?

Well, then again, this was Ronnie Anne, and Ronnie Anne was kind of a wild card. She wasn’t your traditional girl. In fact, very few of the girls he knew adhered to convention, even Lola. She was pretty and pink and all that junk, but she was also tough, domineering, and forceful...so, so forceful.

Maybe he was operating under old fashioned illusions of gender roles.

Or maybe there was something in the water.

Just ten minutes ago, he was fairly confident in his chances with Ronnie Anne, now he wasn’t...at all. The prudent thing to do might just be to give up...but forget that. He was going to try again, and he wouldn’t stop until she was either his girlfriend, or told him to kick rocks.

Leaning forward and bending at the waist to reach, Nikki plucked several tracts from their slots, then turned around. “Ight, got ‘em. C’mon.”

Resolved, Lincoln spun on his heels...then deflated.

Vanzilla was gone.

“Whoa,” Nikki said, “did your sister really just leave us?”

Oh, this was not happening. Ignoring Nikki, he whipped out his cellphone, went to his contacts, and hit LORI. He held it to his ear and waited, his foot unconsciously tapping the pavement. Anger wafted through him like heat from a fire, and his fingers curled tightly around the mobile’s plastic casing. Lori answered on the third ring. “Hello?” she asked.

It sounded like she was smiling.

“Where are you?” Lincoln demanded.

She didn’t reply. “Lori...where are you?”

“You guys were taking too long,” she said, “we’re going to a movie and it’s about to start.”

Lincoln’s foot paused. Seriously? “Really?” he asked.

“I bought tickets online...last night...without telling you...and they’re non refundable. Sorry. Just...hang out with Nikki for a while.”

Lincoln glanced at Nikki; she balanced herself on the curb, knees bent and arms out like she was skateboarding. His right temple twinged and his left eyelid twitched...not at the prospect of hanging out with Nikki, but because LORI’S A BIGGER BITCH THAN I THOUGHT!!! “No,” he said firmly, “come back and pick us up.”

“Sorry….coln….through a....tunnel.”

“THERE ARE NO TUNNELS IN ROYAL WOODS!!!”

The line clicked, and he glared at the screen. CALL ENDED. Fuming, he shoved it back into his pocket and balled his hands into fists. He knew Lori was going to do something today, but he never expected this. She knew damn well he wanted to spend time with Ronnie Anne...and she meddled just like she always did. When he saw her again, he was going to hit her. None of this oooh, she’s a girl, reee crap anymore. Those girls had no problem beating up on him, so tit for tat, bitch.

Nikki walked over and put her hands into her pockets. She looked down at him with the blankest expression he’d ever seen. “So...she’s not coming back, is she?”

“No,” Lincoln spat, “they’re going to a movie.”

“Without us?”

“Yeah,” Lincoln said bitterly.

Nikki hummed. Thrusting her hips restively back and forth, she looked down at her shoes and clicked her tongue. “That’s pretty fucked up.”

“Yeah, it’s fucked up,” he said. “She’s always doing shit like this.” That wasn’t entirely true; Lori could be kind of a bitch, but she never outright and intentionally abandoned him this way. Why? Why did she do it?

Then it hit him.

To get rid of him and Nikki so she could be alone with Bobby.

B-But Ronnie Anne.

Hm. That didn’t make sense. Maybe they figured one kid tagging along was better than three? Or maybe they were going to ditch her somewhere too.

Nikki nodded slowly to herself as if in resignation...then perked up. “You wanna grab some food? I’m hungry as a motherfucker.”

No, no, he did not want to grab some food. He wanted to grab Ronnie Anne’s hand. Or Lori’s throat. Whichever came first.

Plus…

“I don’t have any money,” he grumbled.

“It’s cool,” Nikki said, “I got some.”

He looked up at her, and she offered a cheesy smile. “I’m not really in the mood to eat.”

“I am,” she said, “and I’m gonna do it with or without you. I might get lost, though. And kidnapped by hillbillies. And squeal like a pig.” She winked exaggeratedly, and something about it made Lincoln really uncomfortable.

“Fine,” he relented, “let’s go.”

“Sweet,” she said, “lead the way, rabbit man.”

They started walking across the parking lot. “Rabbit man?” he asked. He’d been called a lot of taunting names in his life, but never that.

Nikki shrugged. “Yeah, you kinda remind me of a rabbit.” She pursed her lips. “I’ve never actually seen a rabbit, though.”

A truck backed up ahead of them, and they paused to wait. “You’ve never seen a rabbit?” Lincoln asked doubtfully.

“Like, on TV and stuff, but never eye-are-ell. I live in the city, dude, we got rats, pigeons, sewer gators, and, uh, Jack the Ripper. That’s our wildlife.”

At the sidewalk, Lincoln looked both ways. North would take them into downtown Royal Woods, and south would bring them to the Royal River. A foot bridge crossed it just west of Kelly’s Ford, and a half mile past that were the outskirts of Elk Park, where Taco Bell, KFC, and Wendy’s all dotted the main drag. “Jack the Ripper isn’t alive anymore,” Lincoln said absently.

“Sure he is. I saw him choking a hooker just the other day.”

“Okay,” Lincoln placated. “Where do you wanna eat?”

Nikki turned left and right as though she could see every single option at a glance, then hummed indecisively. “I dunno know. What’s good with local cuisine? I wanna try what the real country bumpkins eat.”

“Pizza, hamburgers, Italian,” Lincoln said.

“Oh, that’s it?” she asked disappointedly. “I was expecting something a little, ya know...different.”

A cop car whizzed by in the street and hung a sharp left onto River Drive, which matches the Royal River bend for bend until it veers off and turns into Route 29 outside of town. “Bumpkins eat normal things,” Lincoln said impatiently.

“Oh, well, I dunno, pizza, I guess.”

“Alright.”

He turned north and Nikki followed, looking left, right, front, and behind like a tourist in an exotic locale. The shuttered factories and warehouses gave way to residential neighborhoods, archaic American Foursquares rising up over tangled parcel lawns and narrow side streets. “Yo, you gonna give me the grand tour?” Nikki asked.

“Grand tour?”

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “I never been here before. You gotta show me around. Point out cool stuff. Ya know, shit like that.”

Lincoln spread his hands. “There’s nothing really cool in this part of town.”

She snorted, and he knew even before she spoke that she was going to diss Royal Woods...again. “Like there’s cool stuff in any part of this town. Place is a graveyard.”

“There’s cool stuff downtown, okay?”

Nikki chuffed. “If you say so. Yo, you got Bigfoot here?”

“Bigfoot’s not real,” he sighed.

“Sure he is,” she said, “I saw this documentary about him. These dudes in the UP found a whole family of Bigfeet. Like, ten of ‘em living in a cave.”

They were approaching downtown. Shops and stores faced the street, and people in light, colorful clothes paraded up and down the sidewalk, enjoying the warm weather. “You’re messing with me,” Lincoln said without force. He was not in the mood for Nikki’s stuff.

“Nah, man, I swear. They said a circus train crashed a long time ago. The engine exploded, the clowns got all burned up, the ringmaster took a piece of metal to the head. But the monkeys got away, went in the woods, and started breeding with hillbilly women. Who knows, Jethro, you might have a gorilla for a cousin.” She ruffled his hair and he clenched his jaw. The only thing that kept him from lashing out was the fact that it wasn’t her fault he was mad. It was Lori’s. He was really looking forward to hanging out with Ronnie Anne, but now he was stuck with Nikki. No offense.

Grinning evilly, Nikki ground her knuckles into his scalp, and he let out a pained yelp. Jumping back, he fixed her with a glower. Okay, now he was starting to get mad. “Maybe you have a crane for a cousin. Cuz you’re so tall.”

He expected her to get mad, but to his surprise, she snorted laughter. “I do, though. My family fucks with birds heavy.”

Lincoln sighed in exasperation. Why were girls like this? It wasn’t just in Royal Woods, if Nikki was anything to go by, it was everywhere. “Come on,” he said through his teeth.

Five minutes later, they reached Gus’s, a squat building with plate glass windows. Inside, the scent of pizza and the dings and beeps from the adjoining arcade seasoned the air. The brown and white tile floors were sticky and strewn with trash left over from the lunch rush, and the red vinyl upholstered booths flanking the far wall were ripped and dirty. “Now this is my kinda my place,” Nikki said appreciatively. She slapped Lincoln’s back and he stumbled forward. “You sure know how to show a girl a good time.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled. He lead her to one of the booths and they sat across from each other. Straw wrappers, crumpled napkins, and crumbs littered the table. “Just like home,” Nikki said.

She propped her elbows on the edge of the table and rested her face in her upturned palms. A tiny, self-satisfied smirk touched her lips, like the cat who got the canary, and Lincoln shifted uncomfortably. Why was she looking at him like that? The sparkle in her eyes reminded him a lot of Lori; she was up to something.

Looking around so he didn’t have to look at her, Lincoln wracked his brain for something to say. “I really hope Dino isn’t working today,” he said haltingly.

“Dino?” Nikki asked.

“Yeah, he’s, uh, he’s the mascot. He works at every pizza place in town.”

Nikki’s brow furrowed, and her one visible eye, as blue as her hoodie, clouded with confusion like silt muddying clear waters. “Is he like Blarney or something?”

“No,” Lincoln said and shivered, “he’s worse. He has this gangbanger act and says the n word a lot.”

“Oh, shit, really? That’s lit.” She held her hand to her forehead as if to block out a non existent glare and surveyed the dining room. “Where’s he at?”

The door to the kitchen opened, and Lincoln tensed, then relaxed when Gus himself came out.

A fat man whose T-shirt stretched tight over his bulging stomach, Gus was roughly fifty with a graying crewcut and a leathery face crisscrossed by wrinkles. His faded blue eyes glinted like flecks of ice, and in all the time Lincoln had known him, he had never smiled once. He sauntered over like God’s gift to humanity and leaned over the table. “How you doin’?” he asked in a thick Brooklyn accident. “You want somethin’ to eat?”

“Pepperoni pizza,” Nikki said, forestalling Lincoln’s reply.

“Drinks?”

Lincoln opened his mouth, but Nikki cut him off. “We’ll both have Pepsi.”

Actually, he wanted Mountain Dew. He started to correct her, but Gus turned and went back to the kitchen.

Okay then. Fine. I guess I’m having a dumb Pepsi.

To be fair, though, she was paying, so...

When Gus was gone, Nikki looked after him and tilted her head contemplatively to one side. “Yo, that dude looks familiar.” She whipped around and fixed Lincoln with wide-eyed intensity. “Dude, I think that’s Tony Rositti.”

“Who?” Lincoln asked.

“He was a mob boss in Detroit. He ratted everyone out and went in the witness protection program. They used to call him Tony Tits.”

A laugh was shocked from Lincoln’s throat, and Nikki’s grin widened in pleasure. “He once whacked a guy with a big hunk of salmi, then ate the evidence.”

“The salmi?”

“No, the victim.”

They both laughed. Okay, every once in a while she could be kind of funny. “That didn’t happen,” Lincoln scoffed.

“Sure it did. It was all over the news. Just don’t Google it.”

Lincoln craned to one side, dug in his pocket, and pulled out his phone. “No!” Nikki cried. “I swear, it happened, just take my word for it.”

“I dunno,” Lincoln taunted and swiped his thumb across the screen, “you like to kid around a lot.”

An elfin light danced in her eye and her she pressed her lips cutely together as if to contain her smile. The glow of her face and the sly set of her brow stirred his stomach like warm summer wind. “I promise, I’m being serious this time. About the Tony part. There really was a guy named Tony who snitched on the mob, and dude looks just like him.”

Lincoln shoved his phone back into his pocket. “Are you really being serious?”

“Dude, I really am. Watch, when he comes back, I’m gonna call him Tony.”

Lincoln’s heart dropped. “Oh...don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“He might get mad.”

Nikki batted her eyelashes. “I thought you didn’t believe me.”

He opened his mouth then closed it again. He searched her eye for traces of deception, and the faint fluttering in his stomach intensified. Flushing, he looked down at his hands and tried to think of something to say. “Uh...I don’t but if you’re telling the truth…”

“I am. I really am.”

Just then, the door to the kitchen opened, and Gus came out with their drinks in his hands. Nikki glanced at him, then to Lincoln. Her features, more delicate than he original thought, rippled with anxiety, and in that moment, he knew she wasn't lying. “Should I do it?” she asked lowly.

“No,” Lincoln blurted.

She brushed her teeth over her lower lip and seemed to consider her next move. Gus sat her cup in front of her, then Lincoln’s in front of him. “Here you go.” Nikki blushed an appealing shade of pink, ducked her head, and muttered her thanks.

When he was out of earshot again, Lincoln chuckled. She was so boisterous and bold that he was taken aback by her sudden 180. She glanced up at him, and her flush brought a reflexive smile to his lips. “You didn’t do it,” he said teasingly.

“I was gonna,” she retorted, “but I, uh, I forgot.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

“I swear,” she said. She cast about for a convenient excuse, then landed on her soda. She picked it up and brought the straw to her pink lips. He didn’t think she was the kind of girl to wear lipgloss, but the shimmered in the sunlight anyway. “I’m just really thirsty.” She smiled around it and took a sip. “See? That walk over here killed me.”

Uh-huh. Sure. “Well...you shouldn’t have worn the hoodie,” Lincoln said. “It’s too hot.”

Nikki shrugged. “I don’t have much on under here.”

The back of Lincoln’s neck blazed at the image of just what she did have on underneath. Oh, well, yeah, in that case. “You should have put a T-shirt on.” He lifted his cup and took a drink.

“Eh, T-shirts are for fags.”

He sucked a shocked gulp of Pepsi into his windpipe and choked. Nikki grinned, proud of herself, and when he recovered, she added, “No offense.”

“None taken,” Lincoln said and coughed.

She arched her brows and flicked her eyes up and down his body like a jeweler appraising the worth of an uncut stone. He caught flashes of her eye through the golden veil of her hair, dazzling and crystalline like the placid surface of a mountain pond reflecting the sky. That stirring sensation was back, like the kiss of butterfly wings, and when she let out a breathless and dreamy laugh for no reason at all, a tight band closed around his chest like a cartoon boa constrictor. Stare into my coilsssss.

“I mean, your T-shirt looks okay,” she said. “A little too, ya know, fancy, maybe, but not gay or anything.”

“Fancy?”

Nikki casually lifted and lowered her shoulder. “Yeah, fancy.”

“How is it fancy?” he asked, genuinely perplexed. “My mom bought it at the Salvation Army for a quarter.”

Nikki blinked. “You shop there too? That place is lit. I got some apple bottom jeans there once for, like, three bucks. I don’t really wear them, though. I got a flat white girl butt.”

Something about her candor - talking openly about her butt - sent a tingle up Lincoln’s leg. Exerting all his effort, he quashed it, but not before an image of Nikki’s denim covered rear flitted mockingly through his head. As far as he could recall, he’d never really looked at it so he couldn’t say whether it was flat or not, but the vision his brain conjured up - small, firm, and gently curved - made his heart skip a beat.

“...with a collar,” she was saying. “Sorry, dude, but it’s true.”

Lincoln shook his head. “What?”

“I said where I come from, only geeks wear shirts with a collar.” She plucked her straw from her cup, sucked the excess soda out, then plopped the wrapper into her mouth. She chewed it to mush then shoved it into one end of the tube with her tongue. She twisted around and swept the room with her gaze. The arcade was open to the restaurant, a large, dim space crammed with video game cabinets, skee ball tables, and pinball machines. Lights flashed enticingly, and the many dings and beeps formed a beckoning siren’s song that invited all who heard it to come and part with their money. “Bet’cha I can hit Ms. Pac-Man from here,” she said.

Ms. Pac-Man was one of the closest games to the their table, but it was still a good twenty feet away. He looked from it to her and back again, judging distance, trajectory, and wind speed. The farthest he’d ever seen someone shoot a spitball was 11.5 feet, and that was Lynn, whose athleticism ensured maximum lung power. Nikki was into skateboarding so she was active, but he doubted that was enough to give her that kind of umph. “I don’t think you can,” he said honestly.

“Yeah?” she asked challengingly. “I know I can.”

“It’s, like, twenty feet,” Lincoln said.

A devilish simper spread across her lips and her face blushed. “Yeah, but I’m really good at blowing.”

Lincoln’s guts clenched. W-Was she being dirty? It sounded like she was being dirty.

Inserting the straw into her mouth, she scooted to the edge of the booth, slapped one hand on the table, and lifted herself off the bench. Lincoln’s eyes went instantly to the seat of her jeans. Her butt was kind of flat, but his heartbeat sped up anyway.

“Check this out, skull cap,” she said. She slowly wrapped her moist lips around the straw and all at once, Lincoln felt warm all over, especially in the pit of his stomach. She took a deep breath, then blew a puff of air. The spitball flew from the straw like a long range projectile from the barrel of a cannon, and a split second later, it splattered against Ms. Pac-Man’s screen in a wet, whitish lump. Lincoln blinked in surprise, and Nikki pumped her fist. “Ha! Told you!” She sat down and faced him, her soft face beaming with triumph.

“That was pretty good,” he admitted. It was more than that - it was downright impressive - but inexplicable self-consciousness gripped him, and the last thing he wanted to do was gush or something.

Nikki nodded as if to say I know, I’m good. “Spit balls are kind of my thing. Rubberband guns too. I once killed a guy who broke into my house with one. Took his head clean off his shoulders.”

He looked at her.

She looked at him.

Then they broke out laughing. “Shut up,” Lincoln said.

“Nah, I’m just messing with you,” she confessed. “I only put him in a wheelchair.”

“Yeah?” he asked, playing along. “Where’d you shoot him?”

She rolled her eyes. “Duh, the spine. You always aim for the spine.” A mischievous light twinkled in her eye and she opened her mouth like she had something to add, then she blushed and closed it again.

“What?” Lincoln asked.

She shook her head.

Okay, now he was really curious. “What?” he pressed.

“Nothing,” she said, the light shining brighter, “I swear. I was just…”

The kitchen door slammed against the wall, and Gus backed out with a pizza pan in his grasp. A look of relief crossed Nikki’s face. “Pizza’s here.” She tracked Gus’s movements, then shot Lincoln an anxious look. “Yo, should I do it? Really?”

For a nonplussed second, he had no idea what she was talking about, then it hit him: Gus being Tony Rosey the mobster. “No,” he said.

She licked her lips, and looking into her eye, Lincoln could see the cogs and gears of her mind turning. He might not know her very well, but he’d already come to recognize that look. He started to tell her no again, but it was too late: Gus sat the pan down in the middle of the table. “Here you go,” he said.

He stood up straight, and that’s when she did it. Head down, smartass smile, Nikki said, “Thanks, Tony.”

Gus froze...and so, too, did Lincoln’s soul.

“What’d you say?” the man asked. His voice was low and dripped with menace. His eyes, always chilly, were outright cold, and shadows seemed to seep from his craggy features, forming a dark, sinister mask.

Nikki sputtered. “Uh...I-I, uh, I just said t-thanks.”

“No,” Gus said, “you said somethin’ else.” Gus’s accent thickened as his anger blossomed from a single ember into a raging fire. “You called me somethin’.”

Lincoln was paralyzed. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. She was right, oh God, she was really telling the truth and she was completely right. Gus was a mobster in hiding. Nikki lifted her hand, palm up, and forced a chuckle. “I-I said Gus.”

“No you didn’t,” Gus said, his tone rising, “you said Tony. My name’s not Tony Rositti, okay? My name is Gus. I’m a legitimate businessman.”

A couple kids came through the door and went into the arcade. Lincoln spared them a longing look, hoping they somehow distracted Gus and got him off their back.

They didn’t.

“I-It was just a slip, man, I swear,” Nikki fumbled, “you...you kind of like a Tony.”

“How do I look like a Tony?” Gus demanded. “How do I look like a Tony to you? What makes you think my name’s Tony Rositti? What could possibly put that kind of thing in your head?” He gestured wildly like a bad actor in a B-grade mob movie. “Do you think you’re funny? Do you think it’s funny to go around accusin’ people of bein’ Tony Rositti? Do you think it’s cute? You tryna show off? What, you wanna impress your boyfriend? Look, I’m gonna say he’s Tony Rositti. Ha ha ha.”

Lincoln stared down at his lap, eyes squeezed shut. The back of his neck princkled as if in expectation of a blow. “N-No, man, it wasn’t like that,” Nikki said, “I swear, I just...I-I slipped. You’re not Tony Rositti.”

“There’s that name again,” Gus said, “you keep sayin’ it. You know somethin’, don’t you?”

“You said Tony Rositti,” Nikki said, “I just said Tony.”

“You said thank you, Tony Rositti,” Gus spat, “I’m not Tony Rositti. I never did none of that stuff they say I did. Okay? I didn’t whack a guy and I didn’t run weapons. Okay?”

Nikki threw her hands up, “Okay, man, okay, I believe you.”

“Who sent you?”

Lincoln’s blood turned to ice water.

“N-No one, we’re just - “

“What it Papa John? Did he send you?”

“No, I -”

Gus spun on his heels and stalked across the dining room. He pushed through the door into the kitchen, and Nikki paled. “Oh, shit,” she hissed, “he’s going for a gun.”

She started to get up, but went rigid when Gus came back out.

With something in his hands.

A hammer head of terror crashed into Lincoln’s heart, and the air left his lungs in a rush.

When he saw that it was only a cardboard pizza box, however, he let out a pent up breath.

Gus came over, flipped the box open, and angrily slid the pizza in. He snapped the lid closed and dropped it onto the table. “Get outta my place. If I ever see you around here, I’m gonna whack you.” He turned to Lincoln, and he cringed. “You come in here again, I’mma put’cha on a meathook, got it?”

Lincoln gave a jerky nod.

“Now get out.”

Nikki snatched the pizza box and slid out of the booth and Lincoln fell all over himself to follow, his spine tingling as they passed Gus. He half-expected the ex-mobster to change his mind, grab them, and drag them into the back, where God alone knew what gangland horrors waited. He simply crossed his arms and glowered at them.

Outside, Nikki flashed a sheepish smile. “I told you he was Tony Rositti.”

Through the front window, Gus cleared their table with a scowl. When he stood up straight, Lincoln whipped his gaze away lest the mafioso catch him and mistake his looking at him for a challenge.

“And you almost got us killed proving it,” Lincoln said bitterly.

Nikki shrugged. “Almost only counts in drivebys and L-trains, my man.”

Lincoln lifted a quizzical brow. “That’s a city saying, whitey” she said. She clapped his back and he staggered forward. “Now where are we going?”

Okay, Nikki was cool and fun and the more time he spent around the, the more he liked her, but she didn’t know when to stop. She was one of those people, he gathered, who had no filter and no moorings. Whatever came to mind, she said or did. That wasn’t a good thing. Traversing life requires a level of caution and prudence - like driving on an icy road - and the Nikkis of the world simply did not exercise that caution. They pushed the pedal to the metal and careened down the highway until they hit a patch of black ice, slammed through the guardrail, and crashed fifty thousand feet to the bottom of a yawning chasm. Gus was right about one thing: Nikki liked to show off, and heedlessness coupled with a desire for attention can lead to all sorts of bad places.

Like jail.

Or the hospital.

“To my house,” Lincoln said, “where it’s safe and you can’t get us into trouble.”

Nikki rolled her eyes. “That sounds gay. Let’s go to the river. Santiago says there’s a river and I wanna see it. I’ve never been to one.”

Nope. Not gonna happen. They could get into a lot of grief at the river. He pictured Nikki swan diving from the old railway trestle (against his warning) and breaking her neck, and a shiver dropped down his spine. “How about some video games?” he offered. What would a girl like Nikki enjoy playing? “I have Steal That Car: Portland, Maine.”

“So do I,” she dismissed, “you know what I don’t have?”

He could guess.

“A river, Snow Dogs, I don’t have a river. Come on.” She brushed past him and started down the sidewalk.

Lincoln hesitated and cast a longing look over his shoulder. “Wait,” he called, “I have…” what could he possibly say to entice Nikki into going home? “I have pot!”

She stopped, half turned, and narrowed her eyes. “I don’t do drugs.” She started walking again, and Lincoln sighed. She was dead set on going to the river and there was nothing he could do to stop her. He could either give up and go home, or go with her. Abandoning her like that seemed deeply wrong, so with a sigh of resignation, he followed, catching up with her at a busy intersection; traffic whizzed by in either direction and the pedwalk sign throbbed red like a beating heart. While they waited, she opened the box and took out a slice of pizza. “Here, cowlick, eat up,” she said and held it out.

“I’m not really hungry,” he said.

Shrugging, Nikki took a bite. “More for me,” she said, spraying food.

The light changed, and they crossed, Lincoln scurrying to be out of the crosswalk as quickly as possible and Nikki taking her sweet time. “This is really good,” she commented. She took another bite, and a glob of cheese plopped onto the front of her hoodie. She picked it off and tossed it into her mouth, leaving behind a dark grease stain on blue fabric. “You sure you don’t want any?”

“I’m sure.”

For a long time they walked in silence, the shops of Main giving way to dilapidated row houses with grimy siding, peeling roofs, and tumbledown front porches. A group of shirtless black boys played football in the middle of the street and a white redneck bent over the exposed guts of an El Camino parked in a cracked and oil splotched driveway. Every time Nikki reached the crust of her pizza, she tossed it over her shoulder and grabbed another slice from the box. He watched her in his periphery, and was perturbed when his eyes went to her chest. Her breasts, if she had any, were fully hidden beneath the loose material of her hoodie, and he was strangely disappointed.

He swallowed thickly and metaphorically kicked himself. Why was he looking at her like that? Why was he thinking of her like that? “This looks kind of like where I live,” she said nonchalantly.

“It does?” Lincoln asked. He kept his gaze straight ahead, and his neck strained to turn.

She nodded. “Yep. The North-by-Northwest Side. Represent.”

Lincoln snickered. “Nah, I’m just messing with you,” she said with a note of gentle sincerity, “it’s not really called that. It’s called Parkwood.”

“That’s a nice name,” Lincoln said. “Is there really a park nearby?”

“Yeah. It’s full of trash and winos, though.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Nikki shrugged. “Nah, it’s cool. That park’s gay anyway. I go to the skatepark on Ridgedale. That place is tuuurnt. It has everything. Half pikes, full pikes, turnpikes, pike stew, pike-kabobs.”

Were those actual skating terms, or was she pulling his leg again? “Sounds cool,” he said.

“It really is,” she agreed, “you don’t skate, right?”

“No,” he said. “My balance isn’t the best.”

They reached the intersection of Main and River Road. Ahead, trees crowded the gravel shoulder, and a dead skunk lay across the yellow dividing line. A few houses dotted this side of the highway, but for the most part, this section of town was barren. Outside of town, River Road turned into US12 and plunged into the vast pine forests surrounding Royal Woods. In the opposite direction, it eventually met the interstate, bent south, and ran all the way to Detroit. Nikki looked left and right and shoved a slice of pizza into her mouth.

“I can teach you,” she declared. “It’s mad easy once you get the hang of it. I learned from Tony Hawk himself.”

Lincoln snorted. “Okay.”

“What? I did. He’s a friend of mine.”

“You learned from his video game,” Lincoln retorted, “didn’t you?”

Her mouth dropped open in a perfect O of surprise, then she grinned and drove the heel of her palm into his shoulder, light enough to not hurt but hard enough to make him wobble. “How’d you know? That’s exactly how I learned.”

“Call it a lucky guess,” he said.

“Yeah, pretty lucky.” She took a bite of her pizza and looked up and down the highway. “Where’re we going, white hair?”

Lincoln thought for a minute. The river was just past the tree line and down a graded hill. At its deepest point, a half mile north of Kelly’s Ford where the course slowed and the water swirled and eddied, it was eight feet from surface to bed. Here, it was half that. Then again, they didn’t have swimsuits so it’s not like they were going in anyway. “I guess just straight ahead.”

They waited for a minivan to pass, then crossed. On the other side, she closed the box, twisted, and flicked her wrist, sending it into the street. “You shouldn’t do that,” Lincoln said, “there’s a fine for littering.”

“Eh,” she said, “I don’t see any cops. Do you?”

“Well...someone might call them.”

That was a remote possibility, but a possibility nevertheless.

“Who? You?”

“No, I -”

Nikki grinned evilly. “You gonna rat me out, Lincy?” she asked and batted her eyelashes. She bent at the waist and lowered herself to his level, her face heart-stoppingly close to his. His heart jolted and his eyes locked with hers. The light from earlier was back, and it was enchanting.

“No, I mean, someone else might,” he stammered. Her heart slammed against his ribs and his stomach gurgled like water in a tea kettle. A touch of uncertainty muddled her eye, and her face turned a light, awkward shade of pink as if at a sudden revelation. She stood to her full height, her shadow falling across like a tender caress, and rubbed the back of her neck.

Not meeting his eyes, she said, “Um...guess we better get out of here, then.”

Without waiting for him, she spun on her heels and marched into the woods. Her rounded butt clenched and flexed under her jeans, and Lincoln couldn’t help looking at it. Maybe it wasn’t so flat, and maybe, just maybe, it was a whole lot nicer than he gave it credit for.

She disappeared behind a screen of underbrush and he followed, head down and a confusion of conflicting thoughts and feelings racing through him like an out of control merry-go-round.

Tall pines towered over a narrow dirt path, sunlight filtering through their higher boughs and falling in golden shafts on the forest floor. Litter fluttered in the breeze: Fast food wrappers, crumpled cigarette packs, and yellow wrappers with TROJAN across the front. Lincoln didn’t know what that last one was but he thought it was one of those things Flip kept behind the counter and only sold to adults. Probably a packet of chewing tobacco. Either way, it annoyed him that people threw trash in the woods. Tossing a pizza box on the highway, he could tolerate, but not discarding rubbish in nature.

The terrain sloped down, and the sun dappled river played peekaboo through the trees. Nikki, well ahead, stopped and waited for him to catch up. Flowers grew in tangles along the edge of the path, and he imagined their scent was hers: Light, fragrant, and sweet. “So this is a jungle, huh?” she asked and looked up. Her bangs fell away from her eyes and the sunlight bathed her face in muted suffusion. She looked like a saint or angel from a Renaissance painting basking in the glory of heaven. She squinted her eyes and something about that expression made his intestines knot. “I kinda thought there’d be more monkeys.”

“They all died off last winter,” Lincoln said.

“Yeah, it was pretty cold, huh?” she asked.

They started walking again, the forest falling away from the path and the land slanting down to the water. Tall grass rustled in the warm wind with a sound like careless whispers, and the trees along the far bank waved back and forth, dancing to a tune only they could understand. Nikki’s arm brushed his, and he glanced at her hand; the obscene urge to grab it and thread his fingers through hers descended upon him, and he gulped.

Nikki stopped halfway down and glanced around. “There we go,” she said, and nodded to a patch of barren land surrounded by grass. She went over, sat down, and drew her knees to her chest. Lincoln didn’t move. Something was happening inside of him, a shape was beginning to take form beneath the surface of his soul, and he didn’t like it.

Even so, he was powerless to do anything but sit down next to her.

“Well,” she said after a moment, “this is...interesting.” A bird cried out over head and she tilted her head back to watch it pass. Her face was beet red and coated in sweat from the walk. “What’s it like?” she asked. “The water. Cold?”

“Probably,” Lincoln said.

“Sounds nice,” she said. She flipped her hood down and shook her head; her honey hair ruffled like amber wheat around her eyes, and Lincoln forced himself to look at his feet. He tried to call up a vision of Ronnie Anne’s face but in the inky well of his mind, but he saw Nikki’s instead.. “I’m hot,” she said. She waved her hand in front of her face. “I think you were right about the hoodie. I’m a fucking tard.”

Lincoln wrapped his arms around his knees. “Yeah, you really should have worn a T-shirt.”

“Well, I have a bikini top on,” she said, “Santiago was talking this river up so I wanted to be ready, you know? Wish I wore something else, I’m fucking dying.”

Without thinking, Lincoln said, “Okay, then, take the hoodie off.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted speaking them, not because he didn’t want to see her in her bikini top, but because he did.

Nikki seemed to mull over his offer. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of her face, collected at her jaw, and dripped onto her hoodie. “O-Okay,” she said. She tried to sound indifferent, but the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her. She lifted her chin, and her throat bobbed as she pulled the zipper slowly down. Lincoln watched in suspense, unaware that his jaw hung slack, all at once aching to behold her bare skin and hating himself for it. A flicker of apprehension crossed her face and she stopped. Lincoln realized he was basically undressing her with his eyes and forced himself to look away.

“Uh...d-don’t laugh, okay?”

Lincoln’s forehead crinkled, and he resisted the temptation to look at her. “Why would I laugh?” he asked.

“Well, you know, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of scrawny,” she said, and the self-consciousness in her voice stung him. He allowed himself to look up, and she kept her eyes pointed away, as though she were afraid of meeting his gaze. “It’s no big deal,” she said, “I just look like a scarecrow.”

“I doubt that,” he said. He didn’t know what else to say, only that he had to say something to reassure her. “I’m sure you look fine.”

She pulled the zipper all the way down, and the hoodie parted to expose her flat stomach. She hurried shrugged out of it, like a girl ripping off a Band-Aid to minimize the pain. The fabric slid deliberately over the curve of her shoulders, and Lincoln’s breath caught as the sun caressed her smooth, creamy flesh. Her top was pink with tiny white polka dots, which contrasted with her decidedly non-girlish personality, and a size too big; the cups hung loose on her breasts and the straps slipped down her arms, putting Lincoln in mind of a clumsy doe skidding on ice. His heart pounded and when he realized he was stirring between his legs, he whipped his head away. Nikki filled his periphery, and though it made him feel dirty, he watched her intently as he tossed her hoodie aside, splayed her arms behind her, and leaned back. Her stomach muscles tightened and her chest glistened in the sun.

“That’s better,” she said.

A lump lodged in Lincoln’s throat and he tried to swallow it down to no avail. His hatred for himself grew and he hugged his knees like a little boy clutching a teddy bear to ward away monsters. He was soooo in love with Ronnie Anne, but here he was licking his chops over Nikki. It wasn’t really wrong to notice other girls - he did that all the time - but the desire to slowly run his hands over her warm, naked flesh was so great that he squirmed, and his stomach writhed with butterflies like it only ever had for Ronnie Anne.

He wasn’t technically with Ronnie Anne, but this felt kind of liking cheating anyway.

“So, uh…” Nikki started, “it’s kind of weird that, you know, I took my shirt off but, you know, yours is still...you know...on.”

Was she asking him to take his shirt off?

“I’d be more comfortable, you know?”

Cold dread filled his stomach and he opened and closed his mouth like a fish flopping on a dock. A hot rush of embarrassment spread across the back of his neck and wracked his brain for a response. “Uh...I don’t really...want to?” It came out as a question, why did it come out as a question? He didn’t want to. God, the thought of being shirtless in front of a girl...especially one he maybe sorta liked a little...made him break out in hives.

“Oh, come on,” she said, “I took mine off.”

Yeah, but your body’s nice.

“I’m kind of...shy.”

“Don’t be,” she said soberly. She sat up straight, crossed her legs Indian style, and rested her hands in her lap;, facing him like a girl hanging with her bestie at an epic slumber party. “I mean, look at me.”

God, he didn’t want to, because if he did, he’d get hard.

Nikki raked her teeth across her bottom lip and stifled a giggle. “Come on. Unless you’re chicken.”

Sighing, he reached behind his back, grabbed his shirt in both hands, and yanked it over his head. He balled it up and threw it away, then darted his eyes to Nikki; she stared at his chest with a hazy smile and even though he didn’t know much about girls, it was painfully obvious that she liked what she saw...which both excited and disturbed him. He fought back the urge to cross his arms and shrugged his shoulders. “There,” he said, “m-more comfortable?”

Her smile widened and she nodded. “Yeah,” she said, “I’m more comfortable now.”

Good.

Heh.

At least one of them was.

Neither spoke for a long time, the only sound the wind in the trees, the chug of water rushing over stones, and the distant drone of traffic on the highway. Nikki turned away and faced forward, arms circled around her legs, and Lincoln studied her from the corner of his eye, drinking her in and becoming drunk. Her long, graceful throat; the soft line of her jaw; her thin but enticing lips. How would they feel against his? He thought back to kissing Ronnie Anne, and hot bile rose in the back of his throat. What was he doing? What was he thinking? He was so mixed up and confused he didn’t know which end was up anymore. He liked Ronnie Anne and had for a long time, but now...

“Why do you got white hair anyway?” Nikki asked, breaking the silence. Her gangly arms rested on her raised knees and her narrowed eyes shimmered like clear Caribbean tide pools. “You got that disease where you age really quick?”

Lincoln’s eyes darted to her top. He didn’t notice before, but her flesh was lightly tanned, with just a hint of white showing around the cups where the sun hadn’t touched. “Uh...n-no,” he said, “I, uh, it’s a follicle thing. My pigmentation doesn’t work.”

She giggled sweetly, and Lincoln’s midsection quivered. “Your pigmentation doesn’t work, that’s funny.”

“It’s true,” he said.

“Nah, I’m not saying it isn’t, just...how you said it. My pigmentation doesn’t work.” She shook her head fondly. “Do, uh, people pick on you for it?”

Lincoln shrugged one shoulder. “Sometimes. Like you.”

She snorted. “Yeah, but I do it just messing around. I think you’re really cool and kind of...kind of cute.”

Lincoln’s stomach clutched and his heart sputtered painfully in his chest. Nikki blushed and gazed down at her hands with a bemused little smile, as though surprised and pleased at her boldness. “T-Thank you,” he said. Then: “Y-You’re...you’re cute too.”

She sucked her lips into her mouth to contain her smile. “Thanks. I don’t think so, I’m kinda funky looking, like Skeletor or something.”

From her tone, he couldn’t tell if she was being serious or not, but the possibility that she was stuck in his guts like an icepick. She wasn’t funky looking, she was cute. He didn’t really realize that at first - he thought she was kind of plain - but sitting here now and fighting to keep from leering at her taut stomach, small, budding breasts, and bewitching blue eyes, he did. She was more than cute...she was kind of beautiful. “I-I don’t think you look like that. You look…” he cut himself before he could say what he was thinking. “You look fine.”

“I’m not, like, worried about it, you know?” she said. “It doesn’t bother me, I’m just real. I’m not ugly or anything but I’m not beautiful and…” she shrugged. “I guess I kind of don’t like my figure. That’s why I wear the hoodie. And then my tooth. Not gonna lie, I’m not really happy about that.”

“What happened to it?” Lincoln asked.

Nikki grinned slyly. “Skateboarding. I, uh, I fucked up, fell off my board, and smacked the pavement with my face.”

Lincoln winced. “Ouch.”

She nodded. “Yeah, yeah, it hurt pretty bad.” She chuckled. “It was an adult tooth too, so I’m kind of screwed.”

“Well...these are adult teeth too,” Lincoln said, “and they’re all chipped up, so...I feel your pain.”

“How’d that happen?”

Lincoln sighed. “One of my family’s famous fights. I have ten sisters and they’re all kind of vicious.”

She snickered. “That sucks, man, sorry. I don’t have any siblings so I don’t have to worry about that. At least you can blame that on someone else, I got no one to blame for looking funky other than myself.”

“I think you look nice,” he said, trying to inject his tone with stoic apathy, a boy complimenting a friend on his new haircut.

Nikki glanced at him, and her eyes lingered on his chest. “You too,” she said.

They lapsed into silence, and giving into his urges, Lincoln allowed his gaze to travel slowly up and down her body, from the waistband of her jeans to her breasts. He traced their outline with his eyes and wondered what they looked like bare. When he realized she was doing the same thing, he jolted. “You checking out my boobs?” she asked.

Lincoln vehemently shook his head. “No,” he said, “I just…”

“Yeah, you were,” she teased, “you were looking, dude.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

She smiled smugly and lifted her brows. Lincoln’s face turned scarlet with embarrassment and he fumbled for something to say but came up empty handed. Nikki’s features smoothed and she nervously chewed her bottom lip, seeming to mull something over with herself before speaking.

“Do you...wanna see them?”

Lincoln’s heart stopped mid-beat and his stomach bounced into his parched throat. Nikki’s cheeks blossomed with color and her features tensed a little as if in dread anticipation of being rejected. Lincoln’s gaze went to her top and a ball of sensations he could not name welled in the center of his chest.

Not waiting for an answer, Nikki reached behind her back and fumbled shakily at the strings. The top fell slack and blood roared against Lincoln’s temples like a pounding surf. She splayed her hand against her chest to keep it in place and hesitated, her teeth nibbling her lower lip again. Her face flushed and with a snort, she ducked her head.

She took her hand away, and the top slid down the gentle swell of her breasts. They were small and pert, pallid globes of white flesh, puffy pink areolas raked with goosebumps of exhbitionistic excitement. They quivered with the crazy beating of her heart, and Lincoln’s dick pushed against the crotch of his jeans, his entire body smoldering like a bed of embers. Nikki took a deep, fortifying breath and looked up at him, doubt blaring across her face. “Do you like them?” she asked worriedly.

Lincoln’s head bobbed up and down. “They’re beautiful,” he said.

She smiled. “Thank you,” she said earnestly. “Can I...Can I see your dick?”

Lincoln swallowed. “Uh…”

“Please?” she asked.

Like any boy just beginning to come into his body, Lincoln was terrified that his penis was somehow inadequate, and though he thought about sex sometimes, the idea of actually showing it to a girl made him sick with nerves. The look of need in her eyes decided him, however. Rocking back, he undid the button of his jeans and drew the zipper down. Nikki watched with bated breath as he reached in and pulled it from his underwear. It poked over the top of his underwear like a pink gopher popping up from its burrow, and she sucked a sharp intake of breath. Her eyes widened and she leaned in closer. “That’s hot,” she said. “I’ve never seen one in real life before.” She brushed her hair behind her ears and scrutinized it with girlish inquisitiveness. She looked up at him, and her blues were hazed with intoxication. “Can I touch it?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Lincoln heard himself wheeze.

Nikki looked at it again, then cautiously reached out as though it might bite if she weren’t careful. She gingerly wrapped her fingers around it and sensation crackled up Lincoln’s spine. He planted his hands in the dirt on either side of him and reflexively bucked his hips forward. Nikki giggled and ghosted her hand slowly up and down its length, touching, feeling, and exploring, a precocious girl sating her biological curiosity. Her skin was warm against his and the building friction of her velvetine touch made his head spin. She went faster, her breathing ragged, her arousal growing inside of her like a summer star going supernova. She scooted closer, crossed her legs, and grazed her thumb over the tip, making him jump. She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling through her bangs, and did it again; again, Lincoln bucked, making her giggle. “It’s really soft,” she marveled and ran her fingertips appreciatively down his underside like a kitten testing her claws for the first time. Tendrils of ecstasy streaked up his spine a shivery breath burst from his pulsing lungs.

“Does that feel good?” she fretted.

Lincoln tried to speak but couldn’t, so he nodded instead.

She stroked up and down and stared at it with a longing cast, her nostrils flaring. Her small breasts heaved and her throat bobbed. She flicked her eyes questioning to him, then, pulling away , she bent her head over his lap and hair tickled his stomach. Her hot, humid breath broke against his aching rod and a moan ripped from his throat. She lowered herself down to his tip and pressed her lips timidly to his head.

When she found she liked it, she took him haltingly into her mouth and caressed his leaking slit with the tip of her tongue. Bursts and whorls exploded across the backs of Lincoln’s eyelids and a bodywide shiver went through him. Nikki brushed her hair away from her face and went down slow, her sizzling saliva mingling with his precum and coating his tightening shaft. She drew back and then surged down again, one hand on his leg and the other resting on his stomach. She pushed down until he hit the back of her throat then let out a muffled grunt of pleasure. Cupping his balls in her hand, she massaged them as she pulled slowly back, her tongue prayerfully lapping his shaft. She spit him out, rolled her sultry eyes to him, and, holding his gaze rapt in hers, flicked out her tongue and licked his head.

He shivered and she beamed. “How does that feel?” she asked, then, with a self-conscious twist, “Was it good?”

Lincoln licked his lips and nodded. After the wet heat of her mouth, his dick was cold, glowing red with passion, and coated in a glistening combination of precum and saliva. Nikki sat up on her knees, rested her hands limply in her lap, and thrust her chest out. “Do you wanna touch me now?”

Her nipples were erect and raked with gooseflesh. If possible, they looked just as hot and achy as his dick.

Crossing his legs, his dick still pointing over the waistband of his underwear like a fat finger, he leaned forward and brought his trembling hands to her chest. She watched him with a sly smile, a lovely blush across her face and her eyes filled with a confused mixture of lust and trepidation. Lincoln hoved her palms over her breasts, then committed; he cupped them in his hands and Nikki purred. They were far softer than they looked, her nipples scraping him and pulsating against his bumbling touch. He swallowed hard and wracked his clouded brain. What did he do now?

Going with instinct, he squeezed and fondled them with the inexpert gracelessness of a boy picking his way through a new experience. He rubbed her nipples with his thumbs, and Nikki threw her head back, baring her throat. She leaned even closer to give him better access and parted her lips to emit a breathy sigh.

Their eyes met, and before he could react, she was pushing him back and straddling him, her knees caging hips and her hands pressed flat against his bare chest. She stared down at him with slitted eyes, then leaned in. Her sweaty hair enshrouded them in their own secret world, and the tip of her nose skimmed affectionately against his as if in greeting. Her breath filled his mouth, hot and sweet, then her tongue coyly flicked his. She fused their lips together and deepened the kiss. He kissed her back, swirling his tongue clumsily around hers and tracing the outline of her flexing shoulder blades with trembling hands, her flesh warm, silky.

Reaching down, she took him in her hand and lazily stroked him, their tongues working faster, more frenetically. Somehow, they were on their sides down, Lincoln’s hand resting on her hip and her breasts smooshed against him. He ran his fingers across her stomach and slipped them into the waistband of her pants, tugging with dumb, animal gracelessness. He pawed at the button, finally got it, and dipped his hand into her panties.

Her boiling heat enveloped him, and her damp center spasmed excitedly under his touch. He stroked her as she stroked him, gently yet urgently, his fingers smearing her fluid over her lips, then sinking into her quivering core. She gasped into his mouth and her body clenched around his fingers, her honey dripping down his wrist in burning rivers.

Pushing him away, she lifted her butt from the ground and pulled her jeans and underwear to her knees, then kicked out of them. Lincoln admired her body; her toned legs, her shapely hips, her small breasts. She grinned at him, then shifted on top of him. Their noses brushed and their gazes locked. Yes, she was beautiful, but in that moment, she was more, her radiance eluding description and defying articulation. No words could express it, and he didn’t even try. Instead, he stroked her cheek and kissed her. She smiled happily against his lips and kissed him back; her hips swiveled, her folds teasing his tip, and her hands crept into his. She twinned their fingers and brought her body down in one fluid motion, sinking onto him and squeezing his hands fiercely. Her walls closed around his dick in a slick embrace, and he gasped in surprise at her heat. Were all girls this hot? Were they all ovens?

Nikki broke from his lips and pressed their cheeks together; she panted, mewled, and shook, her body gripping him, leaking onto him, walls spasmodically kneading him. She lifted her hips, then brought them down in a smooth arc, taking him all the way to the opening of her womb. Lincoln grabbed her butt in both hands and held on, close to finishing but wanting this moment, the perfect union of their bodies, to never end.

Pushing herself up, Nikki slammed her hips flush with his and hanged her head. Tangled hair veiled her simmering eyes and her mouth dropped open in an O. She held his hands tighter and bucked against him, every stroke bringing him closer and closer to climax. Nikki clamped her bottom lip between her teeth, muffling her moans, and threw herself into him.

Molten fire filled Lincoln’s stomach and he realized with drawing horror that he was going to cum whether he wanted to or not. He tried to speak her name in warning, but a rush of air escaped again. She lifted up until he was almost out, then slammed down one final time, and that was all he could take. Crushing her hands, he arched his back and released. Nikki let out a shocked cry that turned into a long, shuddery moan when she tumbled into her own orgasm. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and trembled violently; he hooked his feet around hers and thrusted deep, shooting his final spurt against her cervix.

For a time, they lay together in a pulsating heap of sweaty flesh, the heat of their coupling lulling them and the dank scent of their passion heavy on the air. Nikki rolled off of him, and his whitish seed seeped from her middle, dripping down the insides of her thighs and falling like drops of rain onto the soil. She lay on her back, chest rapidly rising and falling, and stared up into the sky was an expression of amazement. Lincoln’s dick lay limp against his leg, jerking and twitching as it shrank.

“Not gonna lie,” Nikki panted, “I wasn’t expecting to lose my virginity today.”

Lincoln ran his fingers through his hair. “Neither was I,” he said.

She propped herself up on her elbow and favored him with a dreamy smile. “I was expecting something to happen, though. I mean...you’re the only reason I came here.”

A vision of Ronnie Anne came to him and he frowned.

“You okay?” Nikki asked.

“Yeah,” he said, “I just...I really liked it and I really like you, but…”

She knitted her brows, then smirked. “Santiago, huh?”

Sighing, Lincoln nodded.

“Well...about her…”

Lincoln looked at her expectantly.

“She likes you but...not like that.” Nikki laughed. “I told her after you left the last time that you were cute, and she said go for him, then. I was like what, really? I thought you liked him. She doesn’t. She kinda did, but, you know...b-but I do.” She laid her hand on his chest and smiled. “I like you a lot.”

Lincoln meditated on her words. Ronnie Anne didn’t like him? Even despite everything that had just happened with Nikki, the revelation stung.

But not very much.

“I like you too,” he said. He weaved their fingers together and kissed her wrist. She giggled stupidly and cuddled up close.

“You’re pretty dope,” she said and threw her leg over his. Her damp center rubbed lightly against the outside of his leg, and their combined fluids stained his skin.

Slipping one arm around her shoulders and holding her tight, he said, “You’re pretty dope too. And hot.”

She smiled and rested her head on his chest. “If you say it, I believe it.”

“I do say it.”

They lay that way for a long time, drifting in the drowsy afterglow of their lovemaking. Sometime later, Lincoln’s phone buzzed and he took it out of his pocket.

Lori: Where r u? Almost time to go. Meet us at bus station.

Lincoln sighed. “That’s Lori,” he said, “we gotta go.”

“I don’t wanna,” Nikki said sullenly.

“Me either,” Lincoln said with a twinge of loss.

Even so, they got dressed and left hand in hand. Twenty minutes later, they stood face to face before an idling Greyhound. Bobby and Lori hugged, and looking desolate, Bobby climbed onto the bus, followed by Ronnie Anne. “Well...I’ll see you at some point,” Nikki said glumly.

“I can come down there soon,” Lincoln said, “it’s not that far.”

“And I can come up here,” she said, “I just don’t wanna be away from you.”

“I don’t wanna be away from you either.”

She leaned over and they kissed. He cupped her face in his hands and made sweet, tender love to her tongue, and she clutched the front of his shirt with fierce desperation. When the kiss broke, she stood to her full height and surprised him by mussing his hair. “See ya later, snowflake.”

“Later, Jolly Green Giant.”

She lovingly caressed his cheek, then turned and got onto the bus. The doors closed, and it pulled away from the platform like a ship from its berth. Lincoln sighed deeply and resisted the urge to cry. A hand fell on his shoulder, and he looked up at Lori, whose wan, knowing smile matched his own. “You’ll see her soon.”

“Yeah,” Lincoln heaved, “not soon enough, though.”

They started walking back to the car. “It never is soon enough,” she mused.

He started to speak, then something occurred to him. “You knew.”

“Duh,” she said, “why do you think I left you guys? I wouldn’t have ditched my baby brother to go see a movie.”

Hm.

They were in the parking lot now, the amber rays of the melting sun filling the world like celestial fire.

“Lori?”

“Yeah?”

He couldn’t believe he was saying this. “You can meddle in my affairs anytime.”

She laughed, put her arm around his shoulder, and drew him close. “I was going to anyway, Linc,” she assured him, “I was going to anyway.”

With that, they walked into the sunset.
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