User blog:Metool Bard/Fanfiction: Missing Linc (Chapter 10)

Chapter 10: Locker Room Talk
Well, I think I found a new low in my life. I’m probably the only person I know who has ever been dragged off of the field because someone hurt my feelings. Part of me wants to go back out there and beat the stuffing out of those punks, but all of this bad luck around me is just overwhelming. Lincoln’s gone missing, and I can’t help him because of this stupid game. And then that rotten bully had to pour salt into my wounds, as if he knew how to hit me right where it hurts. I-I’m so mad I can’t even see straight. I guess that’s why I’m not even bothering to put up a struggle against Lucy.

I let her drag me behind the bleachers and sit me down on the grass. After taking a moment to check if the coast was clear, she looked at me.

“Lynn, try to pull yourself together,” she whispered. “We don’t have much time.”

Heh. Well, isn’t this magical? Here I am, the tough older sister, falling to pieces while my little sis is as steady as a rock. This really should be the other way around, don’t you think? Man, I really envy Lucy sometimes.

“Lucy, I-I’m not about to let those jerks get away with saying that rotten stuff,” I panted.

“Nor should you,” said Lucy. “I am just as enraged as you are, but that’s all the more reason for us to find out what’s really going on here.”

…

Yeah, I know she doesn’t sound all that enraged, but trust me. She’s enraged. I can tell; I’ve lived with her long enough. In fact, the way she said that actually gave me chills.

“Alright, Luce. What’s your game plan?” I asked.

Lucy knitted her brow and stroked her chin. “I’ve been talking to the coach about your team’s history with the Hazeltucky Hockers. How much do you know about them?”

“Only that we’ve never beaten them,” I huffed.

Lucy nodded. “That’s pretty much what the coach told me. He also mentioned something interesting about their star players, Hank and Hawk.”

“What’s that?”

“Rumor has it that they achieve victory through unsavory means.”

“So, they cheat, basically.”

Lucy gave me another nod. Hmm. That seems to line up with what’s been happening out there. Those Hockers keep busting up our defensive plays without breaking a sweat. Not only that, but they knew Lincoln was lost, and they used that against me. Just thinking about all this is making my blood boil. Lucy seemed to notice, because she placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Sigh. I know how you feel, Lynn,” she said. “But we can’t just go back onto the field and accuse them without some sort of proof.”

I hate to admit it, but when Lucy’s right, she’s right. Tearing them limb from limb would definitely make me feel better, but it wouldn’t solve the real problem. Still, I don’t know what we’re gonna do.

“Alright, fine,” I relented. “But how’re we gonna get this proof?”

Lucy took a moment to check her watch. “Seven minutes. That should be enough time to do some sleuthing.”

“And I know just where to look,” I said.

“The home team’s locker room, right?”

…

I’d make a joke about how Lucy had the spirits read my mind, but let’s be real here. That was basically a gimme. Heck, I’m sure even Leni would figure that out. Um, please don’t tell her I said that.

I took a peek through the bleachers. “Good. It looks like the Hockers didn’t go back into the locker room,” I said. “Time to activate stealth mode.”

“I’ll be right behind you,” said Lucy.

With that, we started sneaking underneath the bleachers. I’m not sure if this’ll help Lincoln, but one problem at a time, I guess. Now I’m kinda wishing I packed my ninja outfit. It’s so hard to sneak around in pads.

***

Well, I don’t know how I did it, but I managed to slip into the locker room without getting caught. It looked like a rather typical locker room, with all the benches and lockers and stuff. The only difference was the overabundance of saliva on the floor. These guys take their team nickname way too seriously.

“Alright, Luce. Where should we start looking?” I asked.

I didn’t hear any response. Just the sounds of cheering out in the stands. Dang it, she said she’d be right behind me. I swear, if she got lost, I’m never gonna forgive mysel—

“The coast is clear.”

Gah~! Every time! Every ding-dang time! I probably should’ve seen it coming, but trust me, that doesn’t help. Lucy popping up out of nowhere is never a matter of if, only when.

“Well, that’s good to know,” I said, catching my breath. “So, where should we start?”

Lucy shrugged. “Whichever locker belongs to Hank and Hawk, I guess. I’ve never been in a locker room before, so I wouldn’t know.”

“Fair enough,” I said, taking a look around. “Problem is, we don’t know which locker is theirs, and we don’t have time to go through them all.”

“Perhaps there is some sort of clue that’ll point us in the right direction,” Lucy mused. “I’ll consult the spirits while you search.”

If it was anyone but Lucy saying that, I would assume it was just an excuse to be lazy and not do anything. But I know Lucy. She actually believes those spirit friends of her can help. Now, full disclosure: I don’t know if she really has magic powers that allow her to talk to the dead. She might; she might not. But she did say the spirits told her I’d have trouble in Hazeltucky, and look where we are now. Even if she can’t really talk to ghosts, she usually has a good grasp on what’s what.

“Sounds good,” I said. “Keep a lookout too, would ya? No one else can know we’re in here.”

Lucy nodded and sat cross-legged on a bench, looking directly at the entranceway. With a nod of my own, I started prowling around. Now, if I was a locker belonging to a couple of boneheaded punks, what would I have inside? Actually, considering these are the kind of punk who would ruin Lucy’s corn maze for kicks, I’m expecting to find some poor kid twisted into a human pretzel. Maybe even…

…

Nah, that’s just silly. No way would it be that easy to find Lincoln. Not with our luck. Nice to think about, though. The we find Lincoln part, not the Lincoln being twisted into a human pretzel and shoved into a locker part.

Alright, focus, Lynn. Eye on the ball. There has to be something in here that can show us what Hank and Hawk are up to.

Huh? What’s that sticking out of this locker over here? It looks like an Ace Savvy comic. Is one of the Hockers an Ace Savvy fan or something? Wait, I recognize this. This is that fan comic Lincoln wrote for that contest a while back. What would this be doing here?

“Gasp! Strong Suit!”

I spun around as Lucy let out an exclamation. “Whoa, hey. What is it?”

“The spirits just reminded me. Strong Suit is the name of your character in Lincoln’s comic, is it not?”

“Yeah, so?”

“What did that player say when he tackled you?”

“He said that football wasn’t my… strong… suit…”

…

I think we just got our big break. This locker with the Ace Savvy comic in it has to belong to Hank and Hawk! How else would they know about the Strong Suit? Still, why that specific taunt? Unless they really are fans of the comic, Ace Savvy shouldn’t mean anything to them. Well, only one way to find out.

“Keep a lookout, Luce. I think I’m onto something,” I said. The locker had a simple combination lock on it, but we didn’t have time to try out every combination. I just clenched my fist, pulled back, and gave the locker a good solid punch. It was enough to bust the locker and cause it to fly open.

“I’m pretty sure someone heard that,” said Lucy frankly. “Whatever you have to do, do it quickly.”

As if there was any other way to do this. Alright, nothing else out of the ordinary in the locker itself. Let’s check the comic.

Yeesh. Lincoln would throw a fit if he saw this. The entire comic is crumpled and torn to shreds. So much for those two palookas being fellow Ace Savvy fans. Hang on, two of these pages are stapled shut. And I mean really stapled shut, as in the whole page is covered with ‘em. There’s a bulge in-between those pages, too. I’d bet anything that they don’t want anyone seeing what that bulge is. With one swift motion, I tore them apart.

Sure enough, a piece of paper flew out of the comic and floated to the ground. I knelt down to pick it up. The paper was folded into a tiny little ball. I wasted no time unfolding it to see what it was. When it was fully unfurled, I-I couldn’t believe my eyes.

“Lucy, you’re not gonna believe this,” I said.

“What?” asked Lucy.

I showed Lucy the paper. Lucy looked it over before shrugging.

“I have no idea what that is,” she said.

Oh, right. Lucy doesn’t play sports. Of course she wouldn’t know.

“Lucy, these are our signals,” I said.

“Which are?”

“You know how I say a bunch of numbers and stuff before hiking the ball?”

“Yes.”

“That’s how I signal my teammates and tell them what defensive formation to take,” I explained. “No wonder none of our defensive plays have been working! Hank and Hawk know all of our plays!”

“That doesn’t make sense, though,” Lucy mused, furrowing her brow. “The coach told us that he had those signals under lock and key. How did Hank and Hawk steal them?”

“Wish I could tell ya,” I sighed. “But the fact is they’re in here. We need to tell the ref.”

“Wouldn’t we be admitting to breaking into the Hockers’ locker room by doing that?” asked Lucy.

Dang it. I didn’t think of that. And given our history with the Hockers, I don’t think the ref is gonna be ready to believe us. We need more evidence to build an airtight case against these cheaters. Part of that is figuring out how they stole the signals without the coach noticing. But I don’t know where to start.

“Well, one thing’s for sure,” I said. “We can’t use these signals anymore. They’re just gonna keep slaughtering us.”

“I don’t suppose you have any backup signals, do you?” Lucy asked.

I sighed. “I don’t think we do, Luce. Luck’s really not on our side right now. It’ll take a miracle for us to even survive this.”

“Sigh,” Lucy murmured. “I’m sorry, Lynn.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “It’s okay, Lucy. I haven’t cared about winning this thing since Lincoln went missing. All I care about right now is nailing those punks for what they did.”

“Agreed. And it may have something to do with Lincoln’s disappearance,” said Lucy. She checked her watch. “We should leave. We have two minutes left.”

Two minute warning. Not enough time to find anything else, or to come up with a new strategy for the game, for that matter. I just nodded, and we headed out. It looks like no one heard me punch that locker open. Thank goodness for small favors, I guess.

Just as we exited the locker room, Lucy stopped dead in her tracks.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“The spirits feel a presence observing us,” Lucy whispered. “Act natural.”

I couldn’t really check because of my football helmet blocking my peripheral vision, so I decided to take her word for it. We continued onto the field, and I tried to keep my eye on Lucy the whole time. It’s time I stepped up and stopped feeling sorry for myself. If I can’t be there for Lincoln, the least I can do is be there for Lucy.

We barely made it halfway back to our bench when something flew out of nowhere and bounced off of Lucy’s head. She barely flinched, simply letting out another one of her sighs. I spun around to find the culprit, but there was no one there. All I found was a little paper football in the grass. Did someone just snipe us from the stands? They’d have to be a pretty good shot.

I picked up the paper football and unfolded it. It was a note.

Meet me behind the stands at halftime.

~Your friend Pol

I know only one person who calls themselves that. Polly Pain, one of my younger friends. What’s she doing all the way out here in Hazeltucky? If she wrote a note like this, I doubt it was just to watch the Roosters get creamed.

“Well, kid? Is Loud ready to play?”

Hmm. No time to think about that now. I pocketed the note and walked up to the coach.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, coach,” I said. I was almost tempted to tell him about the Hockers having our signals, but that would just get the ref involved. We can’t show this until we have all the facts.

“Good to hear,” said the coach with a nod. “Alright, Roosters! Huddle up!”

Lucy rejoined the coach on the bench while I huddled up with my teammates.

“Please tell me you’ve got a plan,” said Margo.

I sighed. “I’m not gonna sugarcoat it, Margo. They’ve got us by the tail. I just found out that they stole our signals.”

Margo gasped. “What?! How?!”

“I don’t know. I’m not even sure we can win this thing.”

Blech. I feel like throwing up just saying that. I hate to bring everyone down like this. If you feel like you’re gonna lose, chances are you will lose. But what else can I say? Our signals are useless, and we can’t just change ‘em on the fly. We’re pretty much up a creek.

“If I may interject…”

Gah~! How did she get here?! I saw her go back to—  Y’know what? Never mind. I’ve given up trying to figure out how Lucy is able to appear out of nowhere like that a long time ago.

“G-get back to the bench, water girl,” one of the running backs snarled. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Hey, that’s my sister you’re talking to, pal,” I growled. “Watch your tone.”

“Sigh. It’s okay, Lynn,” said Lucy. “I’m used to it.”

That doesn’t make it right. “Look, maybe we can just hear her out,” I said. “I mean, what’ve we got to lose?”

There were a few grumbles and murmurs, but eventually, my teammates relented. Looks like no one had any better ideas. Lucy nodded and cleared her throat.

“They know your actions before you do them, right?” she said. “So perhaps you should send give them a sign that you’re onto them. Instead of using codes, just be blatant about it.”

Hmm. Sounds like something Luan would cook up as a prank. I think all that mentoring of hers is starting to rub off on Lucy. But I see where she’s coming from. Either way, the Hockers know our plays. But if we use blatant signals and straight up tell them what we’re doing, they’re gonna know that we know they’re cheating. That’ll give Hank and Hawk a reason to shake in their boots. And if we’re really lucky, they might do something desperate to cover their tracks. It’s not a perfect plan, and honestly, it sounds a bit crazy. But it just might be crazy enough to work.

“That’s not a bad idea, Luce,” I said. “Thanks.”

Lucy nodded and disappeared from the huddle.

“You don’t actually think this’ll work, do you?” Margo asked.

“Maybe not in the short-term,” I admitted. “Heck, we still might not win the game. But at least this’ll give us a fighting chance and keep those Hockers on their toes. Just follow my lead for now.”

The Roosters all grunted in agreement, and we broke the huddle. We lined up to where Hank or Hawk (I forget which is which) was tackled after he intercepted my charge. I took in a deep breath. I know the plan, but this is gonna be so ridiculous. Well, if we’re borrowing a page out of Luan’s playbook, might as well go all the way with it.

“Signal! Hey Diddle Diddle, the Cat and the Fiddle, this time I say we go through the middle! Hike~!”

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