A while back, someone asked me to do a story that followed Lincoln and Ronnie Anne's relationship from the moment they first laid eyes on each other to the moment they got old and died. Around the same time, someone asked for pretty much the same thing, only focusing on Lori and Bobby. I thought 'Eh, that sounds like a lot of boring work.' Then I started thinking: If I pushed the timeline back so that they're living in the fifties and sixties, etc, (time periods that have always interested me), it might be a lot of fun...so here we are. This story is medium AU – the younger sisters (Lilly, Lisa, Lola, Lana, and Lucy) are not present (though they all make cameos as other characters at one point or another) and Lynn is a boy, otherwise everyone's pretty much their canon selves. It might sound a little off the wall, but give it a chance, there's a lot of interesting stuff in here – maybe Lincoln gets drafted to fight in Vietnam...maybe Luna becomes a rock star in the sixties and develops a drug addiction...maybe Luan joins the radical antiwar movement...who knows? I don't want to sound like the boy who cried wolf because I called Thicker Than Blood my best story, but...I think this might be my best story.

It was December 11, 1957: D-Day. Lincoln Loud had been building himself to this for almost a month, setting dates then chickening out the morning of. November 15, November 28, December 8. This time, however, he was going to do it: He was going to ask Ronnie Anne Santiago to the winter dance.

This was a task easier said than done: Ronnie Anne was the most beautiful girl Lincoln had ever seen and he was...well...he was what his brother Lynn called a 'weak sister.' He was short and scrawny with snowy white hair, cowlick, freckles, and chipped teeth. His arms were thin, his legs were thin, and he wasn't very...manly. Other boys liked football or baseball, Lincoln liked comic books and the kinds of movies that played at the Palace Theater during the afternoon...movies with monsters, giant bugs, spacemen, and aliens. Some of the kids at school called him a dork, others called him a geek, and a couple even called him a square.

What chance did a guy like him have with a girl like Ronnie Anne, a girl with long black hair, big brown eyes, and sensuous lips?

Not a good one, but he couldn't sit on his hands forever. Like his old man said, you have to take risks in life or you'll never get anywhere. Lynn said something similar: No risk, no reward. He got that one from his football coach, and Lincoln hated to admit it, but he was right.

That morning, he woke just as the first gray light of dawn was spreading across Franklin Avenue: He was so early that he was awake before even Lynn, who got up earlier than anyone else: As Lincoln crept into the hall, his brother lay in the next bed over, his mouth open and drool coursing down his chin. Gross. Lincoln didn't like sharing a room with his brother, but when you have five siblings, there isn't much space. His sisters all shared rooms: There was Lori and Leni in one room and Luna and Luan in the other.

Speaking of Luan, was she really waiting by the bathroom door? Who was in there? And why were they up this early?

Great. And he thought he was going to get to take a shower this morning.

Head bowed, Lincoln walked up behind his sister, who, he noted, was dressed for the day in a simple plaid dress and knee-high socks. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and held in place by a white satin ribbon. So...she'sbeen up.

When she heard him, she turned and lifted a brow. "You're up early."

"So are you," he replied.

She grinned. "It's an historic day, Linc. A happy, historic day."

Lincoln stared blankly. Luan rolled her eyes. "I'll give you a hint. It has to do with school and coloreds."

Oh, that's right! Lincoln was so caught up in Ronnie Anne that he completely forgot today was the day Royal County schools were being desegregated by order of President Eisenhower. Yeah, it was a good day; Lincoln's family was fairly liberal and unlike a lot of people in town, he didn't have anything against coloreds. In fact, his favorite singers were all colored. Little Richard, Chuck Berry, Fats Domino. Cool cats.

When you got down to it, though, Lincoln didn't care: As long as he was going to school with Ronnie Anne Santiago, everyone else could be white, black, purple, or green. Speaking of Ronnie Anne...did it really have to be today? He could wait...

No, no, no, he was procrastinating again. It did have to be today.

Oh, but he was scared. At this moment, he had hope – he had a chance. After asking her...that might be all down the drain, and the world would be so, so much darker. He didn't like to admit it because it made him look weak, but he was kind of sensitive, and he didn't know if he could take the rejection.

No risk, no reward.

"...good day for equality," Luan said, and preened.

Lincoln nodded. "Yep." Let's just hope it's a good day for love.

Shortly the bathroom door opened, and Leni came out in a pink robe, her silky blonde hair hanging past her shoulders. Leni was even less of a morning person than he was. "What are you doing up so early?" he asked.

"I had a nightmare," she said, "and I couldn't get back to sleep." She shivered at the memory.

"Let me guess," Lincoln said, "spid –"

Leni's face went white and she plugged her ears with her fingers. "I can't hear you, I can't hear you, I can't hear you." She turned to walk into her room, but collided with the door. "Ouch." She took her fingers out of her ears and opened the door, slipping in and closing the door as quickly as she could lest someone mention the dreaded 'S' word again.

Shaking her head, Luan went into the bathroom and closed the door. Alone in the hall, he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. He tried to ignore the sick nerves roiling in his stomach and the way his heart throbbed, but that was like trying to ignore...being alive or something. He didn't know. He swallowed against a sandpaper throat and took a deep breath. You're just asking a girl out. That's all.

Only no, that's not all it was. This was Ronnie Anne Santiago...the only girl he had ever truly liked. If he messed this up, it was all over.

He was drumming his fingers on his arm when Luna came out. Like Luan, she was already dressed for the day, wearing pedal pushers and a loose fitting gray sweater, the pointed white collar of an under shirt folded over the neck. She wore her brown hair short, like a boy, which turned a lot of heads in town. She was smooth and easygoing, but she wasn't afraid to dust-up: She spent a week out of school at the beginning of the year because some guy called her a dyke and she punched him in the face. She saw him and her brow crinkled. "Wow, you're up early."

"It's a happy day," he said in a tone that was anything but happy.

"Yeah?" she asked, coming over and leaning against the wall next to him. "You gonna ask that Ronnie girl out?"

Of all his siblings, he was closest to Luna: She was the only one he mentioned liking Ronnie Anne to. "Yeah," he admitted, "there's a dance next week and I figured, you know, why not?"

She nodded. "Yeah, why not? You're a cool guy. You got all those good qualities. Kind, gentle, all that, she's a lucky girl."

Lincoln sighed. "I just hope she says yes."

Luna put her arm around his shoulders and squeezed him close. "Something tells me she will. Just be natural, you know, yourself."

"What if she doesn't like me as me?"

"Then find someone who does."

The door opened, and Luan came out. Luna grinned. "Morning, square!" She ducked around Lincoln, shoved Luan out of the way, and went into the bathroom, slamming the door closed behind her.

Luan sighed. "That wasn't very fair," she said. "You were first."

Lincoln shrugged. With five older siblings, he was used to getting short shrift: Not a day went by that someone didn't cut in line, take something of his, shove past him, use him, tread on him, or manipulate him. That's life. They did it to each other, and, you know, Lincoln wasn't above doing it himself. He wasn't the strongest or the biggest or the fastest, but he did plan, and every now and then, his siblings ceased being his siblings and became pawns instead. Luan was the only one who never really did that, though. She had a strong sense of justice and that led her to live clean – though, hey, everyone's human.

When Luna came out of the bathroom, Lincoln went in, used the toilet, then stood in front of the tub, debating with himself whether or not he should take a shower. On one hand, the water was going to be cold...on the other, he really didn't want to stink...not on today of all days.

Sighing, he stripped out of his pajamas and jumped into the tub, turning the hot water on full blast. To his surprise, there was just enough gas in the tank to give him lukewarm water: He hurriedly scrubbed the most important areas (butt, front, armpits), then cut the spray just as it started to turn icy. He toweled off and hopped out, goosebumps racing up and down his arms as the cold air caressed his body. He brushed his teeth, flossed, and gurgled with mouth wash. He cupped his hand to his mouth, exhaled, and sniffed. Ah, minty fresh.

He wrapped his towel around his waist and threw open the door, starting when he got a face full of Lynn, his brows heavy under his crisp crewcut. "I was wondering where you were," Lynn said. "I better have hot water."

Before Lincoln could stammer out a reply, Lynn shoved him out of the way, went into the bathroom, and closed the door. To be honest...Lynn kind of scared Lincoln a little. He could be a monster at times, and it was a rare day that he didn't drag him into a noogie, an Indian burn, or a wedgie at least twice.

In his room, Lincoln hung his towel up and pulled on a pair of underwear, followed by an orange polo shirt that he tucked into his jeans. Next came a white wool cardigan button-up sweater with deep pockets. In one was the black and chrome transistor radio Lori bought him for his last birthday: He listened to it on his way to school and on his way home, and sometimes in bed after Lynn fell asleep. He wanted one so bad because the only radios in the house were the cabinet model in the living room and Luna's; Dad listened to his shows on one and Luna listened to music...constantly...on the other. The only problem with his was that it was kind of tinny. Oh, and it was kind of heavy and made a strange bulge in his pocket. He was grateful for it, though.

In the kitchen, Luna and Luan were eating breakfast while Dad flipped through the morning paper, half dressed in brown pants and a white undershirt. He worked on an assembly line at one of the many automobile factories scattered across the Detroit area. He was union and made decent money, and every month he got a check from the government for being wounded at Normandy: A Nazi bullet shattered his kneecap and took him out of the war not two months after he deployed.

When Lincoln entered, Dad looked up. "Morning," he said, then turned back to the paper. Mom stood at the stove in a flowing blue housecoat, her back to Lincoln.

"Morning," he said and sat, grabbing a glass bottle of milk and filling his cup halfway.

Leni came in wearing a sleeveless pink dress with white polka dots. Lincoln didn't notice it before, but heavy black bags hung under her eyes. That spider dream must have been a doozy. "Is there coffee?" she asked.

"Best in town," Dad said without looking up from the paper. Leni went over to the counter, took a mug from the cabinet, and filled it with coffee. She sat down and sipped it.

"You look like something the cat dragged in," Luna said, and forked a piece of egg into her mouth. "You alright?"

"I'm fine," Leni said, "just, like, tired."

"She had a nightmare," Lori said, coming in. She was dressed in a blue dress, her blonde hair pushed back from her forehead and tucked under a white headband. "She literally kept me up all night." She dropped into the chair next to Leni and took a sip of from Leni's mug. "It was about spiders."

Leni shuddered. "They were everywhere."

"Honey," Mom said, turning and setting a plate in front of Leni, "we've talked about this. Spiders are more afraid of you than you are of them."

"No they're not," Leni moaned, "why would spiders be afraid of a Leni?"

"Maybe because you're literally one hundred times bigger than they are," Lori offered as Mom sat a plate in front of her.

Leni gasped. "I am not fat!"

Lori opened her mouth to reply, but closed it again. With Leni, sometimes you just had to cut your losses and move on: She wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but she was sweet and kind and caring, and as far as Lincoln was concerned, that's what mattered at the end of the day. Still...dealing with her could be kind of frustrating.

Speaking of sweet and kind and caring, the complete opposite came in from the living room wearing a red and white letterman jacket with an "R" over the left breast for Royal Woods. He went to the counter, grabbed a glass from the cabinet and came over to the table; he clamped his hand on Lincoln's shoulder and squeezed as he reached for the milk. "Thanks for the cold shower, you little runt," he whispered into Lincoln's ear. Lincoln winced under his brother's grip. Lynn grabbed the milk and sat, pouring a measure into his glass.

"Morning, honey," Mom said. She came over and sat a plate in front of Lynn and Lincoln.

"Morning, Mom," he said as he rubbed his hands crisply together. Lincoln favored him with a sidelong glance and hoped his shower was really cold.

Mom poured herself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter. "Is there a game tonight?" she asked.

Lynn shook his head. "Nope. It's Wednesday, Mom. We play on Fridays."

Mom's brow crinkled. "It's only Wednesday?"

"Yep," Luan piped up.

"That's what the paper says," Dad confirmed.

Mom shook her head. "I'm losing my mind." She took a sip from her cup.

"You should get out more," Lori said. "See a movie."

Mom chuckled. "There's nothing I want to see at the movies, dear, and when you're a grown up, you have responsibilities...such as housework."

"Housework isn't what it used to be," Dad said into the paper, "you've got washers and dryers and vacuum cleaners. What used to take all day takes two hours tops."

Mom laughed again. "You think so."

"Watching the television set isn't housework," Dad said and folded the paper. He smirked at Mom, and she slapped his arm. The family TV set was new, bought over the summer with Dad's yearly bonus. It was square and boxy with woodgrain and a sideways oval screen; it picked up three whole channels of broadcast goodness. Lincoln's favorite show was Have Gun Will Travel, though Gunsmoke was a close second. Lori and Leni liked the game shows, and Lynn never missed the All-American Football Game of the Week program on Sunday nights, though it was on pretty late at 9:30, and Mom really didn't like him staying up on a school night. Lincoln bet his mother really did watch TV all day; he would if he was home.

"You better get dressed if you don't want to be late," Mom said as Dad snaked his arm around her hips.

"My shirt?" he asked, looking up at her.

"Ironed and hanging up," she said.

"Alright." He stood up and pecked her on the lips: Luan and Lynn both grimaced. Gee, you'd think they were against kissing or something.

When breakfast was done, Mom kissed each one of them, oldest to youngest, then sent them out the door. It was cold and just beginning to snow when Lincoln stepped onto the porch. He shrugged into his jacket and was zipping it up when Lynn bumped into him. "Outta the way, dweeb."

"See ya, Linc," Luan said as she brushed past and went down the stairs. She and Lynn both went to Royal Woods Middle, which was two blocks away, past the park on Schoolhouse Road. The elementary school was across the street and slightly down. Lori and Leni went to the high school, which was way on the other side of town. Missy Johnson, one of Lori's friends, drove them most days, and speaking of the devil, here she was now in her dark blue Chevy sedan with pointed tail fins. When Lincoln was little, he had a huge crush on Missy...but his tastes grew more refined over the years, and now he was attracted to Ronnie Anne Santiago...who was way better looking.

"Bye, Lincy!" Leni cried and planted a kiss on the top of his head. From the brightness of her eyes and the bounce in her step, Lincoln inferred that either the memory of the spider dream was long gone...or the coffee was taking effect.

Lori came next, closing the door behind her. "You waiting for the rapture, Linc? Go on." She shooed him away.

"Bye to you too," Lincoln said, and went down the stairs. As he followed the sidewalk, he took his radio out and turned it on, a news broadcast coming in weak and staticky. "...today in Washington. National aeronautics experts are watching the Soviet satellite closely as..."

Boring.

Lincoln turned the dial and found a station playing music and grinned. There we go. Nothing takes the old edge off like a little music...and come to think of it, the edge was getting kind of sharp. Every street he passed brought him closer to school...closer to the moment of truth...closer to his great joy...or his great sorrow.

Hey, no pressure. It's not like you got just one chance with this girl – the most beautiful girl in school – nope, and it's not like your entire happiness hinges on whether or not she says yes. Chill, relax, be cool.

Sigh, he didn't feel cool. He felt tense, nervous. He was so nervous, in fact, that he didn't realize he was crossing a street until breaks screamed. He jumped and uttered a tiny cry. All he could see was windshield and chrome grill. Whew. Heh, that was a close one, Linc. You almost –

Bobby Santiago stuck his head out the driver side window, a cigarette jutting from his lips. "Hey, you mind gettin' outta my way?"

Lincoln gulped. Bobby was Ronnie Anne's older brother and, like, the coolest guy in town: He wore a leather jacket like James Dean and drove a 1948 Coupe with flames on the sides. He smiled nervously and lifted a hand. "S-Sorry." He hurried across, and looked over his shoulder as Bobby peeled off. One of his friends was sitting in the passenger seat, a guy with blue eyes and slicked black hair. He flipped Lincoln off.

If he was as cool as those guys, he wouldn't have to worry about Ronnie Anne not liking him: Girls loved guys like them. Well...not all girls, but he bet Ronnie Anne would. He could see himself now striding through the hall in a leather jacket and a pair of boots, the cuffs of his pants rolled up. Everyone stepped aside, looks of adoration on their faces. Ahead, Ronnie Anne turned her big, beautiful brown eyes up, and a blush spread across her face.

He was crossing another street, but thankfully no one was coming.

I really gotta stop doing that.

Five minutes later, he crossed Schoolhouse Road and stopped, his brow furrowing. Two police cars sat in front of the school, their red lights lazily revolving in the falling snow. A small group of people stood behind yellow sawhorses lining the walkway to the front door. As Lincoln watched, two cops in black winter coats escorted two black kids past the crowd, a girl in a white dress and a boy in jeans. No one spoke, but Lincoln saw a few sneers of disgust.

Yeah...I'll just go in the side.

He crossed the athletic field and went in through a door to the cafeteria. He paused, turned his radio off, and looked around: About two dozen kids were eating breakfast and talking. He checked his watch, saw that the bell rang in five minutes, and made a hmmm sound. Where was everyone? Usually at this time the lunch room was still packed. Not that it mattered, he guessed, just as long as...

When his eyes fell on Ronnie Anne Santiago, his heart bounced into his throat. She was sitting alone at a table by the wall and staring down at an open textbook as she absently ate an apple. She wore a purple dress and matching shoes, her shiny black hair pulled back in a ponytail with a purple elastic. The familiar, longing ache clenched Lincoln's stomach, and for a moment all she could do was stare. He traced the gentle curve of her jaw, her slender throat, lingered on her freckled face and soft brow. A hazy smile touched his face, and a dreamy sigh passed his lips. Oh, what he'd do to make her his girl.

Do it then, a voice said from the middle of his head. It sounded like his brother Lynn.

I-I-I can't do it right now...I just got here. I'm not ready.

You'll never do it. You're a candy ass, Linc. A weak sister.

No, I –

You're a pansy, Lincoln. A delicate little pansy woman.

Hey, wait just a –

You won't do it, chicken. You're too much of a fragile flower.

Lincoln took a deep breath. He was starting to get angry, and the fact that the voice was only a manifestation of his own subconscious only made him madder. He looked at Ronnie Anne, so beautiful, and his anger faltered, allowing fear to spill over the side like water over the sloping deck of a sinking ocean liner. H-He couldn't...what if she said no?

No risk, no reward.

He imagined himself holding hands with Ronnie Anne, and the vision was so clear that he could feel the happiness that simple act would bring him, and that's what decided him. Taking a deep breath, he steeled his resolve and crossed the cafeteria, his heart jackrabbitting so hard he was surprised no one else heard him. Each step brought him closer to her, closer to the moment he would ask her to the dance, closer to probably being rejected and laughed at.

Was it him, or was it hot in here? He was sweating bullets.

He reached the table and stopped, his hands at his sides. That probably looked stupid. He put them behind his back, then slipped them into his pockets. For a moment Ronnie Anne was completely oblivious to his presence, then she turned, her body leaning away from him. Her brow crinkled cutely. "Can I help you?" she asked, her voice like sweet, heavenly music.

For a moment Lincoln completely forgot how to speak. You're crashing and burning, Loud! Lynn cried from the middle of his head.

I know!

Then stop!

"...You alright?" Ronnie Anne asked.

Lincoln forced a nod. "Uh, I'm fine, I was just, you know, kind of...wondering if...you and me could, maybe...you know...go to the dance."

There.

It was out.

It had been done.

Ronnie Anne regarded him for a moment, an inscrutable expression on her face. It could have masked elation or disgust...or constipation. It was what the cowboys in Have Gun Will Travel called a 'poker face'.

She pulled her lips back in a tight lipped smile. "Dances really aren't my bag. Sorry."

Lincoln's heart crashed into his stomach and erupted into flames. The pilot, poor guy, didn't have time to eject: He was trapped in the cockpit as fire swallowed him whole. "Uh, oh...o-okay."

He made no move to leave. What are those things called? Legs? How do you operate them again?

She raised her eyebrows. "That all?"

He gave a jerky nod.

"Alright," she said, nodding in return, then looked back at her book.

Lincoln didn't realize he was walking away until he found himself in the hall. A group of kids were clustered by the front door, craning to see into the office. A teacher came along and shooed them away. He felt numb, cold, like his heart had been left overnight in a snowbank. Rejected. Just like he knew he would be.

He drew a heavy sigh and started toward his classroom, his head bowed. By the time he sat and the bell rang, the shock had worn off and his chest ached with loss. He took a series of deep breaths, but the pressure weighing against his heart did not lessen. If anything, it grew. Kids were streaming in now. At any moment, Ronnie Anne would come through the door, and he would spend the next hour trying not to look at her, trying not to pine.

And that's exactly what he did.