Twist My Arm

BY : GeorgeGlass
Category: +G through L > The Loud House
Dragon prints: 14996
Disclaimer: I do not own The Loud House, and I made no money from writing this story.

Twist My Arm

by George Glass

Summary: Bobby and Ronnie Anne are in town for just four weeks, and Lori is determined to make the most of her time with her Boo-Boo Bear. Even if she has to force Lincoln to do the same with Ronnie Anne.

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Chapter 1: Who’s on First? You Are.

It was late June—the beginning of hot-weather season in Royal Woods. Lincoln lay in bed in his poorly ventilated room, stripped down to his tighty-whities and struggling to fall asleep on his sweat-dampened sheets. He had nearly managed to doze off when he heard a scream.

He leaped out of bed and ran down the hall toward the source—Lori and Leni’s room. Ace Savvy–style, he burst through the door, ready to take on whatever vile criminal was terrorizing his two eldest sisters. Lori, sitting at her desk in her nightgown, whipped her head around to look at him. 

“Lincoln! Get out of my room, you twerp!”

Lincoln saw Lori’s tablet computer on her desk. Bobby’s face was on it.

“Oh, is Lincoln there?” Bobby said. Then he waved. “Hey, little bro!”

“What’s going on?” Lincoln asked.

Lori’s anger seemed to melt away as she replied, “Bobby just told me that he’s coming back to Royal Woods for a whole month!”

“Yeah,” Bobby added. “My friend Justin and I are switching jobs for a little while. He’s gonna work at the bodega, and I’ll be covering for him at Deuce Hardware.”

“How come?” Lincoln asked.

“Partly to try something different,” Bobby replied, “but mostly because of Ronnie Anne. She’s coming up there for a summer art workshop thing, and Mom didn’t want her to go by herself. Well, Mom, and abuelo, and abuela, and Aunt Frida, and Uncle Carlos, and Cousin Carlota, and…you get the idea.”

“Wow—Ronnie Anne’s coming?” Lincoln said. “That’ll be great!”

By this time, some of the other Loud sisters had stepped into the bedroom doorway in response to the racket. Lola, her face covered in green goop and her hair in curlers, looked through narrowed eyes at the scene in Lori and Leni’s room.

“Fantastic,” she groused. “I’m losing valuable beauty sleep and I have to see Lincoln in his underpants. Again.”

“All right, everyone out of my room!” Lori barked. 

Leni, wearing a sleep mask, started to sit up, forcing Lori to add, “Not you, Leni.”


Three days later, on Friday afternoon, Lincoln was in the kitchen making himself a PB&J when Lori came in.

“So,” she said with deliberate casualness, “have you talked to Ronnie Anne about her visit?”

“Yeah,” Lincoln replied, unscrewing the lid from the peanut butter jar. “She’s doing a four-week art camp. She says she wants to learn to paint murals.”

“Yes, that’s great,” Lori replied dismissively. “Now, it turns out that while Bobby and Ronnie Anne are here, the Royal Woods Psychotronic Film Society is doing a retro drive-in thing up at Piney Point, where they’re going to show old monster movies every Friday night. And there’ll be lots of local food trucks there. Bobby thought it would be fun if the four of us went tonight.”

“Sure, that sounds coo-”

“As a double date,” Lori interjected.

Lincoln blinked. “Date? Um, you know Ronnie Anne and I are just friends, right?”

“Oh, please—you kissed her on the lips at Jean-Juan’s French-Mex Buffet.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Besides, that girl’s had a thing for you since day one. You don’t shove a sloppy joe down a guy’s pants because you like him as a friend.”

“Even if that’s true, since then we’ve really been more like-”

“Look, I literally don’t have time to argue about this. I need this night to be romantic, and that’s not gonna happen if you and Ronnie Anne are trading noogies and fart jokes in the back seat. Just…find an excuse to hold her hand or something.”

“What if she slugs me?”

“Then I’ll buy you a soda with extra ice.”

“Not really the answer I was looking for.”


That evening, Lori borrowed Vanzilla, and she and Lincoln picked up Bobby and Ronnie Anne at the home of Mr. Palecki, Bobby’s boss at his temporary position at Deuce Hardware. 

“S’up, Lame-O?” Ronnie Anne shouted, leaping into the back next to Lincoln. “It’s so great to see you!”

“Hey, Ronnie Anne!” Lincoln replied, hugging her. “Welcome back to Royal Woods.”

“Thanks! It’s nice to get out of the city for a while. And away from abuela’s cooking. I mean, it’s really great, but sometimes I think she’s trying to fatten me up before she drags me to her secret gingerbread house and shoves me in the oven.” She pinched her side through her hoodie.

“I don’t know, I think you look great,” Lincoln replied. Then, realizing that his words might have sounded flirtier than he’d intended, he abruptly changed the subject. “So, uh, how’s the rest of your family?”

As Lincoln got caught up on all the latest regarding the Casagrande clan, Lori drove the van out to a farm field not far from Lincoln’s friend Liam’s house. A big white screen hung on the side of an old barn, and food trucks were parked around the periphery of the field. A teenager in an orange vest was collecting admission and directing cars to parking spaces.

Tonight’s feature was Battle of the Gigantoids, a forgotten Japanese film from the 1950s whose production values were as hilariously poor as the English-language dubbing. Lincoln and Ronnie Anne laughed heartily over the appearance of the first monster as it rose up from the sea; not only was it obviously a man in a rubber suit, but the fishing boats beating a hasty retreat from it looked more like bath toys than actual trawlers.

As this scene ended, Lori conspicuously put her forearm over Bobby’s where it lay on the armrest and took his hand in hers. Then, over her shoulder, she glanced pointedly at Lincoln. The boy swallowed.

Okay, here we go, Lincoln thought, suppressing an anticipatory wince as he gently laid his hand on Ronnie Anne’s.

But Ronnie Anne didn’t slug him, or yell at him. She didn’t even yank her hand away and glower at him in silence, which in Lincoln’s mind had been the best-case scenario.

Instead, she just looked at him and raised her eyebrows for a moment as if to say, “Really? Huh.” 

And then, most miraculous of all, her hand turned to grasp his, and she gave him a little smile before turning back to look at the screen.

Lincoln felt warm inside. And it wasn’t just relief at avoiding all of the terrible outcomes he had imagined. 


Half an hour later, there was an intermission—really, just the projector operator hitting pause for fifteen minutes so that the moviegoers could visit the food trucks without missing anything. Lori volunteered herself and Lincoln to go get snacks for everyone. So Lincoln was a bit surprised when instead of getting in line for the service window of Pearl’s Popcorn Paradise, Lori took Lincoln around behind the truck.

“We have a problem,” Lori said. “Bobby won’t make out with me because he’s afraid it will make you and Ronnie Anne”—she made air quotes—“‘uncomfortable.’ That’s not true, is it?”

Lincoln, failing to notice the manic edge in Lori’s tone, replied, “Um, actually, it would.”

Lori grabbed Lincoln’s shoulders and shoved the boy up against the metal wall of the truck. 

“Wrong answer! You are totally comfortable with it!”

Lincoln swallowed. Lori’s anger could sometimes be shrugged off, but not when it had to do with Bobby. 

“So what do you want me to do?”

Lori’s expression morphed from deranged to devious. “Hmm, well, I suppose you can’t just tell him you’re comfortable with it…that would be weird…” 

Right, that would be weird, Lincoln thought.

Then Lori’s face broke into a frightening grin. “I know—you need to make out with Ronnie Anne! Then Bobby will know it’s okay for us to make out!”

Lincoln’s eyes went wide.

“Wh- what?” Lincoln stammered. “Lori, I’m not- I can’t-”

“Oh yes you can! As soon as we get back in the van, you’re going to plant one on Ronnie Anne, and then keep planting.”

Lincoln couldn’t begin to tell Lori what a terrible idea that was. He didn’t want to mess up his friendship with Ronnie Anne by suddenly getting all smoochy with her. Nor did he want Ronnie Anne to mess up his face.

“I can’t do that! She’ll slug me for sure!”

Seeing the look of utter insanity in Lori’s eyes, it was all Lincoln could do not to wet his pants right then and there as Lori replied, “That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”


So this is my life now, Lincoln thought as he followed Lori back to Vanzilla with a box of popcorn in each hand. Making decisions according to which girl I’m more scared of.

He sat down beside Ronnie Anne, having to force himself even to look at her as he held out the two boxes of popcorn.

“Um, they only had gourmet flavors,” he said awkwardly. “You want cinnamon sugar, or parmesan and cracked pepper?”

“How ‘bout we just share both?” Ronnie Anne replied. “I don’t have cooties.”

“That’s, that’s good to know,” Lincoln said, his awkwardness ratcheting up a notch.

A moment later, the movie started up again. The two eleven-year-olds munched their popcorn in near silence, trading the two boxes back and forth between them. Lincoln almost had to force himself to partake; his anxiety about what he was going to have to do was making his stomach tight, and every kernel he and Ronnie Anne consumed brought him closer to the moment when he’d have to do it.

Finally, the popcorn ran out, and Lincoln knew he didn’t dare delay a moment longer. He put his hand back on Ronnie Anne’s, trying to reestablish what he hoped had been at least a moderately romantic mood. Then, just as the action on the screen changed from monsters battling each other to a scientist providing a load of badly translated exposition, Lincoln leaned over and kissed Ronnie Anne lightly on the lips.

Lincoln steeled himself for a blow. In this confined space, Ronnie Anne’s options for striking him were limited, so she’d probably go for a classic hook punch to the face. 

But to Lincoln’s surprise, Ronnie Anne didn’t even look mad. The expression on her face was more like, “Well I’ll be damned.”

And then it was Ronnie Anne who was leaning forward and planting a kiss on Lincoln’s lips. And then another. And then Lincoln was holding her in his arms and kissing her again and again.

“Well,” Lincoln heard Lori say quietly, “I suppose those two won’t mind if we…”

“No, I guess they won’t,” Bobby replied happily.

Lincoln could hear them kissing, but he was too focused on Ronnie Anne now to pay much attention to anything else. 

This feels amazing…am I doing this right?…gosh, she’s so warm…did she always smell this good?…her lips are so soft…wow, we’re not just kissing, we’re actually making out…I’m making out with a girl…for the first time…this is a milestone…I can’t believe Ronnie Anne is actually into this…what’s she doing with her hand?…oh, jeez, she’s gonna grab me by the hair…no, wait, she’s just pulling me closer…

For several minutes, Lincoln and Ronnie Anne kissed, each one’s hands caressing the other’s hair and back. Then they came up for air, panting, just as the movie’s climactic monster-battle began.

“Wow,” Lincoln gasped. “This is…I can’t even…it’s so…”

“Yeah,” Ronnie Anne breathed, pulling Lincoln to her again.

Lincoln had no idea how the movie ended—or even that it had ended, until Bobby said, “Well, that was fun. You guys want to do this again next week?”

Before Lincoln could even begin to respond, Lori quickly replied, “Oh definitely.”


During the next week, Lincoln saw Ronnie Anne a couple of times, but under very different circumstances. One night, Bobby and Ronnie Anne came over for dinner at the Louds’; and later in the week, Ronnie Anne hung out with Lincoln, Clyde, and some other friends at Gus’s Games and Grub. On neither occasion did Lincoln have any time alone with Ronnie Anne to talk about the events of that Friday night.

Lincoln would have liked to spend more time with Ronnie Anne but, like some of his sisters, he’d been drafted to help out at his father’s restaurant four nights a week. So often times, just when Ronnie Anne was finishing up with art camp for the day, Lincoln would be heading off to Lynn’s Table to spend the evening washing dishes, busing tables, and learning how to make a Bolognese sauce.

That Thursday evening, when Lincoln had just taken out the restaurant’s kitchen trash for the fourth time and was about to catch a ride home with Kotaro, an aproned Lori took him aside by the back door of the restaurant.

“So,” she said, “you had a good time with Ronnie Anne last Friday, right?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Good. Very good.”

Lincoln looked at Lori’s face and swallowed. His eldest sister had a look in her eye that was becoming way too familiar.

“Because tomorrow night, I’m going to need you to get to second base with her.”

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