4. Ch 4- Trial and Error

"Okay, kids!" Rita called up the stairs. "Feet on floor!" She listened as she heard eight pairs of feet land on the floor of the upstairs landing. "You too, Lincoln!" She waited for her son to get up, but heard nothing. "I said, you too, Lincoln!" Once again, she waited, but received no response. "Girls, could one of you wake your brother up?"

"NOT IT!" eight of the girls responded, putting a finger on their nose.

"NOT IT!" Leni responded a second after, then frowned. "Dang it." While the rest of her sisters began queuing up outside of the bathroom, Leni walked across the landing to the far end, stopping at her brother's door, which she then knocked on. "Linky? It's morning, time to wake up." Leni blinked. "Wait. I thought I was Leni?" Blissfully ignorant to the facepalming from some of her sisters who could hear her, she knocked again, then proceeded to walk in. "Linky?" Upon looking at her still sleeping brother, she smiled. He laid there, still as can be save for his gentle intake and outtake of breath. His mouth was slightly opened, with one arm dangling off the edge of the bed and the others holding Bun Bun against his chest. 'He looks so cute like this,' she thought. 'I wish I didn't have to wake him.'

She knew, however, that he needed to go to school, so she walked up to his bed, crouched down and placed a hand on his shoulder. Gently nudging him, she saw his eyes begin to groggily open. Groaning, he reached his hand up to rub the sleep out of his eyes, before looking confused at his older sister. "Huh?"

"Morning, Linky," she greeted her dazed brother. "Time to get up."

"What time is it?" Looking over at the Muscle Fish clock on his wall, he saw that he had overslept by ten minutes, causing his eyes to shoot open and his body to sit up straight. "I thought I set my alarm to wake me up!"

"Maybe you just slept through it?" Leni suggested.

"I guess," he groaned, throwing off the bedding and swinging his legs over the side. "Well, guess I should get ready."

"Okay."

He and Leni stayed there for a few moments, neither saying a word while Leni had her typical happy smile on her face, until Lincoln finally spoke again. "Uh, Leni? Could you leave my room so I can get changed?"

"Oh, no problem! See you at breakfast, Linky!"

She turned around to leave, accidentally bumping into the door on her way out, causing Lincoln to chuckle. Despite her less than excellent intelligence, he loved that Leni was one of the sweetest people he knew, and he would never want her to lose that. Standing up, he realised that his leg was no longer aching. 'Wow, Lynn must have done a better job than I thought with that massage,' he thought, flexing his leg a little, 'I feel good as new! I'll have to thank her when I get downstairs.' He then gave a sniff of his armpit, before shrugging. 'I'll shower later, I guess.'

So, he quickly got unchanged, grabbed some clean clothes and got changed. Grabbing his backpack, he threw it on his back and checked that his laces were tied, before heading out of his room and downstairs. Entering the kitchen, he saw his sisters were lined up as their father finished preparing his famous breakfast sandwiches. Joining the queue, he was quickly seen by his next oldest sister. "Morning, Stinkoln," she jokingly greeted, causing him to roll his eyes. "What, did your alarm clock not go off?"

"Har, har," he responded, his sarcasm laced in his voice and written all over his face. "I was exhausted after track yesterday, so forgive me for sleeping in a little."

She scoffed. "Noob." He jokingly groaned in response, but still had a smile on his face. "Hey, how's your leg by the way?"

"Good, actually!" He flexed it a little to show her. "Doesn't even feel like I injured it! Thanks for that, by the way."

"Ah, no problem. Once you find a sport you like, you'll get into better shape, and that won't happen." Her smile dropped a little as something came to her head. "Hey, what sport are you gonna try next, bro?"

His smile dropped as quickly as hers did. "I… actually, I hadn't thought about that. I was just gonna ask dad, since he was the one who said I should try track."

"Alright. If you need any ideas, though, I can ask around."

And like that, his smile returned. "Thanks, Lynn."

"Eh, what's a big sister for?"

By the time they finished speaking, the line had shortened so it was just them left. Lynn got her sandwich first and headed to Vanzilla, leaving the two males in the family alone in the kitchen.

"How's your leg, champ?" He asked as he fried the egg for his son's sandwich.

"It's better now," Lincoln replied.

"Good to hear."

"So, dad, since track didn't work out, what am I going to try instead?"

"Oh, right! Your mother and I had a talk about that, and we think that we went about this the wrong way."

Lincoln raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, we think that it was wrong of us to try and make you do a sport, and that instead, you should find something for yourself." Seeing that the egg was done frying, he began to assemble the sandwich. "Before she left for work, your mother asked me to tell you, if you have the time to try speak with Coach Pakowski and see what else there is you can try. You okay with that, champ?"

"Sure thing, dad."

"Attaboy." He then wrapped up the finished sandwich and handed it to the white-haired boy. "Now, you better go before Lori starts honking Vanzilla's horn at you."

As if on cue, they heard exactly that, prompting both of them to say, "too late" and chuckle before Lincoln headed off for school.

Come lunch time, Lincoln left his classroom while talking with his friends, as they approached their lockers and began to put their things away. "You guys mind saving me a seat?" He asked. "I need to go speak with Coach Pakowski."

"It's a shame you won't carry on doing track," Stella admitted. "You sure you don't want to try again next week?"

"I'm sure. I just wasn't enjoying myself."

"Alright. Well, we'll save you a seat."

"Thanks." So, while his friends all made their way to the lunch hall, Lincoln went the other way around the school towards the sports hall, which was where Coach Pakowski's office could be found. Walking up to the open office door, he looked in and saw the gym teacher sat behind his desk, eating from a packet of chips. "Coach?"

"Huh? Oh, Loud," he greeted, putting the chips down, "come in." Lincoln did so, walking in as the coach gave him his attention. "What can I help you with?"

"I was wondering if there were any other clubs I could try out?"

"Track not work out, huh? Not surprised, to be honest. I saw you weren't enjoying yourself that much. No biggie. We've got a few other sports clubs here, so just give them a try, and see what you like."

Lincoln smiled. "Thanks, Coach."

TUESDAY- SOCCER

"Alright, kids!" Coach Pakowski called out to the kids as they stood in a line on the soccer field. "Now that we've warmed up, we'll be practicing some drills, starting with defending in a two-on-one situation. Get into threes, grab a ball, and walk over to one of the red cones." The kids did as instructed, with Lincoln going with two kids that he wasn't too familiar with, though had seen once or twice around school- one was a short, tan boy with black hair, and the other was a fair skinned boy with black hair, who Lincoln knew hung out with Chandler. After everyone was spread out in their groups, Pakowski called out again, "Alright! Here's what's gonna happen. Two of you are gonna take the ball and try to reach the blue cone ahead of you, the other one is gonna try and stop you. Once you've reached the blue cone, or the defender has taken the ball from you, switch around so someone else gets a turn. Keep rotating until I blow my whistle again. Ready?" He raised his whistle to his mouth and blew it. "Go!"

"Alright, guess I'll go first," the tan boy said, running ahead while Lincoln took the ball with his feet.

"Ready?" The other boy asked Lincoln, who nodded. "Okay, pass it to me, and I'll take it a bit further and pass you it. You try get the ball past him, I'll get it to the cone."

"Uh… Yeah, okay." So, Lincoln passed him the ball and started to run ahead. After getting a bit further, the ball was passed back to him. Looking ahead, he saw the tan kid coming close, so he tried to get the ball around him and pass it back to the other kid, but the ball was taken away from him as he prepared to kick it, causing him to trip and fall face into the muddy ground. As he lifted his head up, his now mud-covered face was unamused. "Dang it."

WEDNESDAY- BASKETBALL

"Alright, here's what you're going to do," Coach Pakowski instructed, basketball in hand. "You're going to dribble the ball down the line, switching hands with each bounce, until you reach the end. When you do, you'll take a shot, like so." He then threw the ball, only for it to hit the backboard and bounce away, causing him to grumble to himself as he jogged over to fetch the ball whilst the waiting kids chuckled amongst themselves. "Okay, like that, but try and get it in the hoop. After you've taken your shot, retrieve the ball and pass it to who's next in the line, and run to the back. If you miss, you do ten sit ups. Got it?" He passed the ball to the girl at the front of the line and blew his whistle. "Go!"

As the first person ran the drill, Lincoln watched, trying to see what to do. 'Alright, maybe this won't be so bad,' he thought to himself. 'I definitely won't end up with a face full of mud, so that's one upside, and I think being inside is better.' As he reached the front of the line, he took a deep breath to prepare himself. 'Alright, here we go.' He saw the kid at the other end throw the ball his way, so he held out his hands and caught it.

"Loud! Go!" Pakowski instructed, which Lincoln obliged. Everyone watched as the white-haired child began to dribble the ball at a decent pace, switching hands each time the ball bounced while keeping along the line. It didn't take him long before he was a good enough distance away from the net. "Take the shot!" Lincoln took hold of the ball in both hands, stopped his jog and shot for the net… only for the ball to hit the rim of the hoop and ricochet back, smacking him straight in the face and knocking him straight on his butt. As he rubbed his nose from the impact, he heard everyone laughing and blushed. "Alright, walk it off, Loud. Pass the ball back and do your sit-ups."

Lincoln got to his feet and jogged over to the ball, then picked it up and threw it to the line. Unfortunately for him, it hit one of the other kids in the head, causing them to fall backwards, miraculously and comedically setting off a domino effect. Wincing, he jogged away, and as he felt everyone's glares directed his way, he couldn't help but think, 'yep. This did turn out as bad.'

THURSDAY- RACQUETBALL

As Lincoln grabbed one of the rackets and a ball, he looked around and saw that Coach Pakowski was nowhere to be seen. Looking around, he recognised one of the other kids- a boy with dark skin and dark brown hair- so he walked over to him. "Hey," he said, getting the boy's attention, "where's Coach Pakowski?"

"You didn't hear?" The boy responded. "He hit his head during gym class, he's in the nurses office."

"So… if he's not going to be leading this, who is?"

"Okay, everyone!" They heard a familiar voice call. Turning in the direction the voice came from, their jaws dropped.

"Bah… bah… bah…"

Entering the gym hall was none other than the substitute teacher, Ms Dimartino. The beautiful tan skinned, dark haired woman was wearing the same red shirt and white shorts she wore whenever she covered for Coach Pakowski. "It's nice to see you're all ready to play!" She said. "In that case, we'll warm up with a game. I'll stand on one half of the court, and everyone else line up on the other side. I'll serve, and you hit it back, then run to the back of the queue. Let's see how long we can keep a rally going."

After everyone was in line, with Lincoln near the back, she blew the whistle. As she served the ball and hit it back and forth against the wall with the other students, Lincoln's crush on the sub meant that he struggled to take his eyes off her as her hair swayed back and forth with each swing of her racket. It wasn't until someone nudged him back that he realised the line had noticeably shortened. Tightening his grip on the racket, he watched as Ms Dimartino hit the ball so that it bounced against the wall, waited for the right moment, and hit the ball back into the wall.

Unfortunately for the white-haired boy, the angle that he hit the ball at meant that after hitting the wall, it hit him back in the face, square on the nose. After the initial impact, which brought a collective "Ooh" from the group, he blinked a couple of times, feeling blood pour from his nose.

"Are you alright, Lincoln?" Ms Dimartino asked out of concern.

"… dang it…" was all he could respond, before he collapsed to the floor with a thud.