Lincoln lay sprawled out on his bed, staring catatonically at his ceiling while the ticking of his Muscle Fish clock echoed throughout his room. On the other side of the bed lay his bully-turned-quasi-girlfriend Ronnie Anne, who looked just as lethargic. Every now and then, they'd hit that lull in their weekend hangout sessions, when they ran out of things to do or talk about but they still had an hour or two before her big brother Bobby came by to pick her up.

It was the most curious thing; at the beginning of the school year, Ronnie Anne's face was one that struck fear into Lincoln's heart whenever he saw it. The very sound of her name was enough to send him scrambling away, out of fear of getting pantsed or wedgied or shoved into a locker. And yet, here she was, inches away from him, in his private sanctuary, and he could barely muster the willpower to even sit up. If nothing else, it was a testament to how much things had changed.

With the rest of his options exhausted, Lincoln just spouted out the first thought that came to his head.

"You know, it's kind of weird, how things worked out between us."

Ronnie Anne's lazy eyes drifted towards his. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, Lori's with Bobby, and now I'm with you. It's funny."

"Funny how?"

"Like, we're two pairs of siblings who just happened to be perfect for each other. It's such a weird coincidence."

Ronnie Anne snickered. "Perfect?" she asked. "Kind of pushing it there, Lame-O. But I get what you're saying. Too convenient to be just an accident, right?"

"Exactly," said Lincoln. "It's almost like this whole thing was decided by fate."

"That's a ridiculous idea," called a nasally voice from Lincoln's doorway. The two of them looked up- or rather, down- to see Lincoln's hyper-intelligent younger sister, Lisa, standing in the doorway with her tiny arms folded across her chest.

I knew I should have shut that door, thought Lincoln.

"What you just described was entirely a coincidence," Lisa continued. "And if you give me a moment to fetch something from my room, I'll gladly explain how."

"Do we have a choice?" groaned Lincoln.

"No," Lisa said flatly, pivoting around and shuffling back to her room.

A minute later, Lisa shuffled back into Lincoln's room holding a pair of metallic goggles with a leather strap attached. Lincoln instinctively reached out towards the shiny, futuristic device, only for Lisa to snatch it away.

"Not so fast," she chided. "Before I tell you what this is, there are a few concepts I have to explain first. How familiar are the two of you with multiverse theory?"

After receiving blank, empty stares from Lincoln and Ronnie Anne, Lisa continued.

"We're accustomed to thinking of time as linear: a simple, continuous line of cause and effect. But it isn't that way at all. You see, at countless points during your life, you've been forced to make decisions; you've arrived at forks in the road, and you've had to choose to go either left or right. But every time you make that choice, there are two different timelines that spawn from that point. If you choose to go left, there will be an alternate timeline in which you chose to go right, and vice versa. When you factor in all the actions we've taken and the decisions we've made over the course of human history, there are a near-infinite number of timelines based on infinite possibilities."

Lisa took a moment to push up her glasses and straighten out her turtleneck before continuing. "To be blunt, the fact that you two are together is little more than a cosmic accident. There exist thousands, if not millions of other timelines in which you two never even crossed paths."

Ronnie Anne scowled at Lisa. "Gosh, thanks for telling us that," she said, her voice dripping with scorn. "You've enriched my life so much with that new information."

Lisa kept rambling on, ignoring the sarcastic comment. "What I have here is a multiversal transmitter," she said, holding the goggle headset aloft. "It allows the user to see any one of their alternate lives."

She strapped the goggles around her head and started fiddling with a small lever protruding from the left eyepiece. "In fact, there's one particular timeline I came across during an afternoon of browsing," she said. "It's nearly identical to our own, with the exception of one detail. In this universe, the Santiagos have switched places entirely with a family from a beachfront town on the East Coast."

Lincoln laughed in disbelief. He couldn't understand how Lisa could speak about such a groundbreaking invention in a tone so cavalier.

"Lisa, you... you're really something else."

"Thank you, but I cannot take credit for this invention in particular," she said as she continued to flick the lever. "I borrowed it from one of my colleagues in the scientific community. He's an ornery curmudgeon who drinks far too much, but his scientific prowess is even greater than mine."

Ronnie Anne's cynical eyes started to widen with intrigue. "How'd you convince him to let you borrow it?" she asked.

Lisa chuckled. "I have my ways," she said. "You should know by now that my logical persuasion skills are second to none."

"I wanna play with your multiverse goggles! I wanna! I WANNA! I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna-"

"All right, all right!" the scientist growled, in between gulps from his hip flask. "Geez, you really are a *BURP* toddler."

He reached into his lab coat pocket, pulled out the multiverse goggles and shoved them into Lisa's hands.

"Ah, here it is!"

She took off the multiversal transmitter, climbed up onto Lincoln's bed, and laid it down between him and Ronnie Anne.

"I've pinpointed the exact timeline I was describing earlier," she said. "Would either of you care to have a look?"

Lincoln snapped up the goggles. "Sure!" he said, with a little more enthusiasm than he intended to convey.

Ronnie Anne shot him a dirty look. "What's the hurry?" she demanded. "Want to see how much better your life is without me in it?"

"N-no!" cried Lincoln, skittering away from her and throwing his hands up in front of his face. "I-I just want to see what this other family is like. Besides, aren't you curious to see how your other life goes?"

Ronnie Anne's expression softened. "You know, I kind of am," she said. "And it's not like we have anything better to do, so why not?"

She laid down on the bed, crossed her legs and tucked her hands behind her head. "You can go first, though."

Lincoln gave her a "thanks", sat up, strapped on the goggles, and waited for the fun to begin.

"Let me know when you're done with them," Lisa said as she exited the room.

7:45 a.m.

September 14

Royal Woods Academy

Lincoln squirmed around in his desk, tugging at the tight collar of his button-down shirt. The school didn't enforce a very strict dress code, but Lincoln's parents insisted that he should look "nice" for his first day of Sixth Grade. While he wasn't thrilled, he decided not to put up a fight, assuring himself that tomorrow he could go right back to wearing his usual polo-jeans ensemble.

As he waited for the teacher to arrive, he let his eyes wander around the classroom. Most of the room was populated by returning students that Lincoln recognized from Fourth and Fifth Grade, including Christina, Chandler, Rusty and Zach. To his puzzlement, they were all blithely chatting away about how they spent their summer, showing no sign of worry or even concern about the school year that awaited them. Weren't they at least a little anxious?

While Lincoln wasn't dreading the coming year, he wasn't exactly stoked about it either. Truth be told, he had only the faintest idea of what to expect from Middle School. Not much was written or said about that awkward transitional phase between Elementary School and High School. What was the workload like? Was this the year he'd have to start talking to girls, or did that come later? Would he start having to shave? The more he thought about it, the more questions he had- and the more questions he had, the more his stomach churned.

At the very least, he didn't have to change schools, since Royal Woods Academy covered grades K-12. On top of that, he was lucky enough to be placed into a homeroom class with his lifelong friend, Clyde McBride, so he'd always have someone to confide in if things got too rough.

Clyde, predictably, grabbed a seat right next to Lincoln as soon as he walked into the classroom. Lincoln took solace in the fact that Mr. and Mr. McBride weren't any less strict than Mr. and Mrs. Loud were. In fact, Lincoln got off easy; Clyde was forced into a tie and a belt, and he had to beg his dads to forgo a suit jacket.

The two of them were too anxious to make small talk, so they just exchanged nervous smiles and sympathetic glances, letting each other know that they'd get through this year together, no matter what it took. This continued until 8:00, when the homeroom teacher finally arrived.

"Good morning, class!" called a sunny alto from just beyond the doorway. In hopped a full-bodied lady in her mid-forties, with her scarlet hair done up in a messy, uneven bun. She was wrapped in an emerald sweater that clung uncomfortably tight to her perky figure. "Did you all have a good summer?"

She was met with a chorus of "yeah"s, "mm-hmm"s, and vague, noncommittal grunts.

"Glad to hear it," she said. "In any event, welcome to your first day of Sixth Grade! I'll be your homeroom teacher for the year. You can call me..."

She snatched up a piece of chalk and started scribbling her name on the board. "...Mrs...Johnson!"

Once she was done, she underlined her name with a sharp swipe of the chalk and let the piece fall from her hand onto her front desk. "We've got a lot to cover today!" she announced, with far more enthusiasm than that statement merited. "But first, let's get acquainted with one another, shall we?"

Her eyes began to dart back and forth across the room. "Now, I see a lot of familiar faces here. By a show of hands, who was part of Royal Woods Academy's Fifth Grade class last year?"

Lincoln and Clyde raised their hands, as did the vast majority of the students. The only one who kept her hand down was a slender, bespectacled Indian girl sitting in the back row. A moment later, all of the eyes in the room were on her, causing her to slump deeper into her chair and fold her arms across her chest.

"Ah, a newcomer!" said Mrs. Johnson, paying no heed to the girl's timidity. "Why don't you come to the front of the class and introduce yourself?"

The girl, figuring that she didn't have a choice, dragged herself out of her seat with a sigh and shuffled to the front of the class, keeping her head down the whole way. As she walked, her long, wavy ebony hair fluttered behind her.

"My name is- um..." she muttered, letting her eyes drift off to the side.

"Look at the class, honey," said Mrs. Johnson. "And speak up! I'm sure the back row wants to get to know you, too."

The new girl swallowed hard and forced herself to point her gaze forward. Once she did, she felt the collective stares of the classroom boring into her, causing a light blush to spread across her cheeks.

"My name..." she began, in a voice just barely loud enough to reach the back of the room. "...is... my name is Connie."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Connie," said Mrs. Johnson. "Now, tell us a little bit about yourself. Where are you from?"

"K...Keystone," said Connie, who still looked borderline terrified.

Behind her glasses shone a quivering pair of wide, chocolatey eyes, that almost looked to be on the verge of tears. Lincoln didn't think much of her at first, but at this point, he was starting to see something amusing- even charming- about her inconsolable shyness.

"Anything else you'd like to share?" asked Mrs. Johnson. "What are some of your interests?"

"I...um..."

Connie crossed her arms and started shrinking away from the class, averting their gaze. "I-I like reading?"

"Oh, wonderful!" exclaimed Mrs. Johnson. "You'll be doing plenty of that this year, I can assure you."

The teacher's remark elicited some scattered groans throughout the classroom, which she just ignored.

"Now, is there anything else you'd like to tell us, Connie?"

Connie shook her head vigorously, causing her raven locks to swish back and forth.

"Well, all right then. Go ahead and take your seat."

With a tiny wisp of a sigh, Connie walked back to her seat- and Lincoln's eyes followed her the whole way.

"She's cute, isn't she?" Lincoln whispered to Clyde.

"Don't ask me, man," Clyde whispered back. "You know my heart belongs to Lori."

Lincoln groaned. "Come on, Clyde. You should know by now that that's never going to happen."

"Oh, ye of little faith."

After Connie sat back down, Mrs. Johnson had each of the other students stand up and introduce themselves- partially as a formality, and partially to get Connie acquainted with them. Every student was instructed to state their name, their favorite subject and one interesting thing they did over the summer. Throughout the whole exercise, all Connie could do was stare down at her desk- and all Lincoln could do was stare at Connie. When it was Lincoln's turn to stand up and introduce himself, he purposefully raised his voice, in the hopes that it would provoke her to look up at him. Sadly, it did not.

The following thirty minutes had Mrs. Johnson rambling on about the class's expectations, but Lincoln tuned most of it out. For the rest of that period, Connie dominated his thoughts. To make things worse, he couldn't even bring himself to approach her, even though he had several opportunities to do so. He was paralyzed by the fear that he'd either make himself look like a doofus or horribly offend her to the point of tears.

He briefly entertained the idea of asking one of his sisters for advice, but he knew all too well how the Loud household worked. If he let one of them get involved, then before long, all of them would get involved. As far as he knew, he had two choices; either go the rest of the year with an unresolved, unrequited crush, or face the "Sisternado" head-on.

"My turn, my turn!"

Lincoln's vision was swiftly interrupted when Ronnie Anne yanked the goggles off his head, sending his powdery white hair askew, and strapped them around her own. As the goggles recalibrated, she waited with bated breath for her new adventures to unfold...

2:30 p.m.

July 20

Beach City

Ronnie Anne picked up a stone off the beach and chucked it forward, only to see it ker-plunk into the ocean unceremoniously. Grunting in frustration, she snatched up another one and flung it as hard as she could. Once again, it broke through the surface and sank to the bottom without skipping even once.

This was, more or less, how she was spending most of her summer days since the Santiagos moved to Beach City- just puttering about the bustling beachfront town, doing whatever she felt like. Sometimes she'd be blowing her allowance at the Funland Arcade, sometimes she'd be flipping through a book at the Buddwick Public Library, and sometimes (like today) she'd be hanging around the beach, trying to teach herself how to skip stones.

After the fourth or fifth failed skipping attempt, Ronnie Anne felt a pang of loneliness gnawing at her insides. A month after her family got settled in Beach City, she still hadn't really gotten around to making any new friends. True, there were a few faces she saw on a regular basis, like the creepy pale kid with an onion-shaped head, or the big black guy running the arcade who smiled even when he was angry, but she hadn't really bothered to try to get to know them. Then again, she reasoned, they didn't seem all too eager to get to know her, so she figured it wasn't worth the effort.

Maybe she'd get around to befriending one of them eventually, but for now, all she had was herself. She scooped up another stone and gave it a throw- this one underhanded- only to be met with the exact same result. But just as she was about to storm off and find something else to do, she heard a voice coming from behind.

"Here, let me help you with that!"

Ronnie Anne turned around, and was met with one of the biggest, most adorable smiles she had ever seen. The smile belonged to a wide-eyed, jolly young boy with a big, fluffy mane of curly hair, two dainty little dimples adorning his chubby cheeks, and a plump little belly poking out from beneath his shirt.

"My dad taught me how to do this a few years ago. First, you've gotta find a rock that's flat and smooth. Like this one!"

The boy bent down, picked up a flat, disc-like stone and wrapped his pudgy fingers around the edge.

"Then, you grip it around the edge with your thumb and forefinger."

Ronnie Anne was too bewildered to respond. She had never even seen this boy before, and here he was chatting her up like they were best friends.

"And then, to throw it, you just sort of whip your wrist forward. Like this!"

With a flick of his wrist, the boy sent the stone whirling through the air like a frisbee. It bounced off the surface of the ocean five times before sinking into the depths.

"By the way, I don't think I've ever seen you around here," said the boy. "My name's Steven. What's yours?"

"My... my name? Um... uh..."

Come on, Ronnie Anne. Be cool. Be natural. Just say the first thing that comes to your head.

In the midst of her babbling, she noticed a paper bag gripped in Steven's hand, with a picture of a chocolate donut printed on each side.

"I-is that a donut in there?"

"Sure is!" said Steven, holding the bag up to her face. "I almost never go into town without stopping by the Big Donut."

Ronnie Anne narrowed her eyes at him, and her lips curled up into a mischievous smirk. "Well, that explains a lot."

Steven's smile dimmed just a tad. "What do you mean?"

"I mean it explains why you're such a little pig!" she sneered, jabbing him in the belly with her pointer finger.

Steven let out a startled gasp and recoiled away from her. "H-hey! That wasn't very nice!" he cried, pulling down his shirt and throwing his hands in front of his stomach.

Ronnie Anne's sneer twisted into a frown. "You know what else isn't nice?" she asked. "Marching up to me and trying to show me up when I never even asked for any help!"

Steven shrunk away from her. "I- but- but I wasn't trying to-"

"Save it, tubby."

Ronnie Anne lifted up her foot and punted the ground, blasting Steven in the face with sand. He let out a yelp and reflexively threw his hands up to shield his eyes, dropping his donut bag in the process. Before he could pick it back up, Ronnie Anne swiped it away from him.

"Now go bother someone else, loser. I don't hang out with lardballs like you."

Right before she turned around to leave him, she noticed that his bottom lip was quivering and both of his eyes were starting to mist up. That image, as fleeting as it was, stayed with her for the entire walk home. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't push it out of her mind. When she tried helping herself to the donut, every bite she took tasted so searingly bitter that she couldn't bring herself to swallow it.

Why do you do this, Ronnie Anne? What's wrong with you?

Ronnie Anne's vision was interrupted by a sharp knocking on Lincoln's door.

"Ronnie Anne? Bobby's here to pick you up!" Lori called from just outside the room.

"O-oh," she muttered. "Cool. Here you go."

With a blank, almost trance-like look in her eyes, she took off the goggles and handed them back to Lincoln.

"So what'd you see?" asked Lincoln. "Anything cool?"

After a moment of hesitation, Ronnie gave him an off-kilter smile and forced her hand into a stiff, awkward thumbs-up. "Y-yeah. Cool stuff. I'll tell you tomorrow." She snatched her violet hoodie off of the bed, threw it on and bolted out the door, uttering a hasty "bye" as she left.

Lincoln's forehead wrinkled with concern as he watched her dash down the hall. It wasn't like her to take off so abruptly, without so much as a goodbye hug (or a goodbye noogie, depending on what kind of mood she was in). He wasn't too worried, but he figured it wouldn't hurt to text her after she got home, just to make sure she was okay. So he grabbed his phone and set an alarm to go off in an hour and a half, to remind himself to do so.

Right after the alarm was set, his attention drifted towards the goggles lying on his bed- and once again, Connie dominated his thoughts. Who was she? Why was she so shy? Would she and the other Lincoln become friends? Or best friends? Or more than best friends?

He couldn't take the suspense a moment longer. He had to know.

He snapped up the goggles, strapped them over his eyes, and lay himself down on the bed, ready to be taken back through the multiverse.

To be continued...