Lincoln Loud loved the convenience of online shopping: With a few clicks, you could find literally anything you wanted, and you didn't even have to put on pants to do it. Whenever he got a sizeable chunk of money (more than ten dollars), he would put a portion of it into his account at the First Bank of Royal Woods and then blow it on the internet. Money wasn't exactly easy to come by as an eleven-year-old boy with no job and a gigantic family, so it was really only after his birthday and Christmas that he was able to do this.

What Lincoln Loud hated about online shopping was the long, anxious wait for his purchases to arrive. When you go to the store and see something you like and you buy it, you walk out with it. With internet shopping, you have to sit on your hands for weeks sometimes, the anticipation building and building until you can't stand it anymore. He remembered an episode of Spongebob Squarepants where Spongebob was waiting for something to arrive in the mail and grew so impatient that he stood by his mailbox and looked inside literally every ten seconds, his frustration mounting each time he found that his item (was it a toy?) hadn't magically appeared. That's how Lincoln felt waiting for the rare Ace Savvy comic he ordered from . He clicked BUY on January 28, and the conformation email they sent him said it would be to him in two to three weeks. Today was February 10. Walking home from school, his hands in his pockets and his head bowed against the bitter wintery wind, Lincoln sighed against the excited pressure in his chest. Today might be the day...the day he opened the mailbox and found a beautiful manila envelope with his name on it. He would pick it up, his eyes widening and his breath catching in his throat; he would hold it and look down at it the way a father might look down at his newborn; and then he would trace the outline of the comic within with trembling fingers.

He was so amped up by the time he reached the bottom of his driveway that he ran the last couple feet to the mailbox and ripped the door open, nearly taking it off its hinges. He glanced inside, and his heart shattered into a million pieces when he saw that it hadn't come. Bowing his head, he drew a sad sigh. Another day of waiting lie ahead of him, another day of rising hope that would ultimately be dashed against the rocks. He reached in, grabbed the stack of mail that was there, and dragged his feet to the front door, absently looking through the day's haul. Luan had something. Luna had something. Must be nice.

At the very bottom of the stack was a small lime green envelope with the Hallmark logo on it. It was sealed with a heart-shaped sticker, and his name was written across the front in eloquent loops and swirls. His feet came to a shuffle stop, his brow lifting and his heart beginning to...well, not race...jog?

He peeled back the bottom of the heart sticker and took out a card with a cute cartoon bee on the front. WILL YOU BEE MINE? read the caption below. He opened it, and the inside was blank save for more pretty purple writing. Will you be my Valentine? Below was a drawing of a heart.

A goofy grin spread across his face. He turned the card over in his hands, but didn't see a name anywhere.

"Who sent this?" he muttered to himself, still grinning. He looked up and glanced around, hoping against hope that he would see the sender standing behind a telephone pole or crouching behind a bush, but the windswept day was empty.

Someone liked him.

Him. Lincoln Loud, the boy with white hair and buck-teeth. A faint heat spread across his face, and his heart really was racing now.

Inside, he slapped the mail down onto the end table by the door and then went up to his room, where he laid on his bed and reread the card a dozen times, marveling at it. Someone really liked him; you don't stick a card asking someone to bee yours in a mailbox if you didn't. Sure, you were pretty much obliged to hand out little cards and lollipops to all your classmates on Valentine's Day, but you were not obliged to do this, and days before V-day at that.

You did it because you wanted to.

Because you liked that person.

He couldn't get over it; someone actually liked him enough to put a card in his mailbox. He looked at it again, suddenly sad that there was no name attached. Who was it? Why didn't they write their name down? Were they shy?

Or – and his stomach tightened at this – were they playing a cruel joke on him, trying to get him to think someone liked him when they really didn't? He closed the card and put it aside. It wouldn't surprise him. Who would like a white-haired, buck-toothed dork anyway? He wasn't handsome, he wasn't charming...he wasn't even funny. He had absolutely nothing to offer.

He jumped when someone knocked on his door. "Come in!"

The door opened, and Lucy appeared, sitting on the edge of his bed. "I need your opinion." She held a notebook in her small white hands.

"Okay," Lincoln said. Anything to distract himself from the sudden rush of self-loathing. "Shoot."

Lucy bowed her head over the notebook, her black hair falling across the side of her face. She began to read:

"The dark, where I live, my heart, has nothing to give."

Lincoln nodded. "Okay. And?"

"Well...that's all I have right now."

"Alright," Lincoln said. "You want brutal honesty, right?"

"As always."

Lucy had been writing poems for a year and a half, and she had always sought his opinion. He didn't know why. He knew nothing about poetry: The only thing he read were comic books, and, admittedly, those weren't exactly high literature brimming with meter and cadence and...syntax? He didn't even know. He did know that Lucy appreciated total honesty, even if it stung.

"Your writing and, uh, rhyming are getting better. Much better, actually. It's really dark though."

Lucy looked at him, her eyes hidden behind her bangs and her mouth a straight line. "So...I accomplished what I was going for?"

"Well, yeah, but..."

"Wicked. Thanks, Linc."

She got up and left the room, closing the door behind her. Alright, then. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up with a yawn. His eyes fell on the card, and a ripple of uncertainty went through his stomach. It didn't make sense that someone would go to these lengths to try and make him feel bad. He wasn't the most popular, but no one hated him. Right?

Who could it be?

Not Ronnie Anne Santiago, that was for sure: The thought of her sappily writing Will you be my Valentine? in a card with a cute cartoon bee on the front and sealing it in an envelope with a heart sticker brought a smile to his face...because it was so out of character. She had a heart, sure, but he'd sooner believe Mr. Grouse next door sent him the card than Ronnie Anne. Was it Cristina? She knew he liked her, so maybe she was coming around?

He doubted that. She thought he was a weirdo.

Who, then?

He didn't know, and it was already starting to bother him.

Guess I'll just have to wait and see what happens next.

Lovely. As if waiting for his comic wasn't enough, now he would have to wait for another card, or a letter, or...something (hopefully). He sighed. That old song is right: The waiting is the hardest part.