Adventures in Lemonade

## Characters

* Little Ace
* Prince Toast
* IcySky
* Owen
* Mr. Smokey
* Horse
* Goats
* Sugar gliders
* Tiger
* Python
* Snow leopard
* Dog
* Sugar glider
* Pool bar worker

## Chapter One

June was halfway over. Ocean waves flashed forward and retreated in Little Ace’s mind. In just a week she would be off to Sandy City, biking on the beach and eating boardwalk food and doing all her favorite things she couldn’t do at home. But first…

Little Ace gasped awake. “It’s Owen’s last day of school!!”

She hurled herself out of bed with no respect for the patchwork quilt on top and snatched the lined-paper drawing she had made for her friend the previous night. Owen, who was one year older than her, went to public school, and his final day of the fifth grade was nothing more than a 3-hour outdoor ice cream party.

The digital clock by Little Ace’s nightstand read 9:32. “Arrrrgh, sleeping in!” she exclaimed with frustration, grabbing her midnight-blue cape and tying it on. “It never works when you *want* it to.”

The purple-and-gray lizard conquered the stairs in threes and finally landed at the bottom right near the front door. Quickly, she decided to grab a road snack in the kitchen, where Prince Toast was neatly downing a small mug of joe. “Hey there, good morning!” he said to her. His breath was warm and pleasantly coffee-scented.

“Hi!” Little Ace replied. Still in a hurry, she swung open the doors of the fridge and dug around for the bag she put together herself yesterday. “There it is.”

Prince Toast stretched out an arm. “Oh, be careful with the fridge! Pretty sure one of the doors almost broke off last time your Papa tried to use it.”

Right on cue, Little Ace’s other dad, IcySky, appeared around the corner and moved forward like a stubborn boulder to join his family in the kitchen. “Eh. It wasn’t in danger,” he said with the most hardly-visible shrug.

Little Ace had always known there were magnets at the bottom of the fridge, but this was the first time she took time to *notice* them. “*Woah.*” There were plastic ones with simple landmarks and symbols she didn’t recognize, stuck on beside ceramic magnet-backed ones with drawings on them from when Little Ace was really young. However, her favorites were the ones that said where they were from alongside a picture of something from that place. *Calico. Village Torian. Oldest Point. Sandy City.*

“When did we get this one?” she asked and pointed to the Sandy City magnet with a claw. On it was a picture of the beach she loved, decked out with striped umbrellas and creatures playing in the water.

“You weren’t around then,” Prince Toast explained. “This was a honeymoon souvenir of ours. That’s why we decided to start taking you to Sandy City! How many years ago was it?” he added, turning to IcySky.

His husband nodded. “Six.”

Prince Toast chuckled. “Ah, time flies. Yeah, that expensive honeymoon was paid for by my mother, in part…” His face flushed red. “Long story. But I got that one with my very own money! Neat way to spend your ten dollars.”

“Maybe I could get a souvenir this year,” Little Ace said. “With my own money and everything!”

IcySky raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got money? Well, don’t hold out on us, kid.”

“He’s joking,” Prince Toast clarified even though his daughter hadn’t said another word.

“I have money in my… college fund,” Little Ace began after racking her brain for anywhere she could find the countless envelopes of money she got from her grandma every Christmas and birthday. Every dollar seemed to mysteriously disappear into her college bank account without a word.

IcySky whistled. “Don’t come asking *us* for loans, then.”

“*Or*,” Prince Toast said to Little Ace, elbowing his husband in the side, “you could find a way to *make* your own, if that’s how you want to go about it. Offer to mow someone’s lawn, or landscape their yard, or anything you can get paid for.”

“*Our* yard looks like a fourth-grader landscaped it,” IcySky commented.

Little Ace looked up at the microwave clock. 9:39. If she stayed for any longer, she wouldn’t be able to catch Owen at the end of his school day. “I’m sorry, I really have to go!” she said. “I’ll think of something. Bye!”

Bag in her claws and cape on her back, she left out the front entrance and locked the doors neatly behind her from the outside. After a few moments, Prince Toast faced IcySky. “Do you really think that about our yard?” he whispered with wide eyes.

“I would never lie to you,” IcySky grunted flatly.

## Chapter Two

Little Ace walked to Owen’s school underneath the friendly tree cover on the sidewalk and sunshine on the asphalt beside her. She could hear the blasting pop music radio and hear excited shouting up ahead before the school even came into sight.

The sound made her break off into a jog. To her relief, no one had left the school’s giant outdoor grounds yet, so she was safe momentarily from the flood. Little Ace got closer, trying not to look too creepy observing students from a school she didn’t even attend, and scanned the place for Owen. At last she found him practicing cartwheels on the playground slide, all while carrying some kind of strawberry sundae.

“Owen!” Little Ace called out. Then she slammed her claws immediately over her mouth and glanced around for teachers. Owen, a dark-pink and light-purple lizard, came running up to meet her at the edge of the fence that separated the school’s property from the short green in front of the school itself, but he was shadowed by a taller lizard.

“Who’s this?” the lizard asked gruffly.

Owen blinked up at the teacher. “She’s my homeschooled friend,” he said innocently. The teacher shrugged and headed off without protest. When Owen turned back around, his sharp teeth were set in an evil grin. “That’s Mr. Smokey,” he explained. “He doesn’t care about anything. Nice job being almost-sneaky!”

“I tried!” Little Ace giggled. “How many minutes till school’s out?”

Her friend’s face went pale. “Shoot! Let me grab my backpack.” Little Ace counted seven seconds for him to race back to the nearby slide, grab his stuff, swing it over his shoulder, and face her again. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a bell rang out somewhere above their heads. All the students and teachers swiveled toward it in a single motion.

“You’re gonna wanna run,” Owen said with remarkable calm. In a screaming mass of flailing arms and heads and tails, the other students charged forward to take their backpacks and leave for the last time as fifth graders. Owen hopped the fence in a quick movement and grabbed Little Ace by the arm. “Come on! Hurry!!”

Little Ace followed him into the street, not daring to glance behind her. The screams and screeches of former fifth graders running purely on ice cream fuel filled her brain with a haze and rendered her lame against the charge.

Finally, she found her voice. “Car!” she spluttered. Owen, already knowing what to do, just went off to the side and hopped up onto the curb of the sidewalk without stopping. The dark red van honked in futility against the oncoming rush of students on summer break. Little Ace was fairly sure someone would be taking a visit to the automotive repair center soon.
“I guess no one’s taking the bus home this year,” Little Ace observed accurately.

“Let’s go to the grass!” Owen pointed to where the fields opened up ahead. They leaned their head forward as if it made them go any faster and held tight to Little Ace’s arm until the grass pricked their claws.

## Chapter Three

The two lizards rolled around down the hills to blow off their steam, then settled in the grass together at the lowest dip in the field. “Probably feels nice not having to do all that walking through the school anymore,” Little Ace said.

Owen nodded. “I like school when there’s ice pops. But there aren’t most of the time.” He frowned at this realization.

Little Ace pulled out the drawing that had been on her nightstand. “Made this for you! Do you like it?”

On the lined paper was a crude illustration of two lizards dancing in the sun. “I love it! I love it so much!” exclaimed Owen, making Little Ace beam. “This looks like a beach. You going on your Sandy City trip thing again tomorrow?”

“Owen!” laughed Little Ace. “We go every year!”

“Oh, yeah! You told me last year… and the last year… and the last…”

Once they finished sharing their giggle, Little Ace opened her arms and spread them out like she was about to make a snow angel in the grass. “This year I’m gonna get a souvenir. With my own money. And take a piece of Sandy City home with me!”

“How are you gonna get the money?” asked Owen.

This stumped Little Ace. “Uhhh… I don’t know. Do you have any ideas?”

Her friend made a face like they were thinking hard. “When I was six or seven, I did a lemonade stand. Well, that was really because my mom wanted to give me something to focus on-”

“Lemonade stand! Genius!” Little Ace sprang up from the grass.

“You’re just gonna go make it now?” Owen gasped.

Little Ace nodded. “Mhm! I’ll ask my dads for help setting it up. Can you make the lemonade with me?”

“*Can* I!” Owen jumped upright beside her. “Of course! But… you have to teach me first, I have no idea what I’m doing.” They leaned over Little Ace’s shoulder as she typed something into the phone she’d gotten the previous month for her birthday. “How much does your thingy even cost?”

A few seconds of scrolling later, Little Ace found a souvenir she really liked on the website of the Sandy City Keepsake Store. “Ooooo, what do you think of *this* one?”

Owen gasped at the sight of it. It looked like a perfectly round glass ornament. Floating around inside was a pearly-white mini turritella shell, a wave of blue and teal flakes, and a little plastic sailboat. “That looks *soooo* pretty,” he breathed.

“Just $19.99, too!” Little Ace skipped in the air. “If I price my lemonade at 50 cents a cup, all I have to do is sell 40 cups and then I can buy it when I get to Sandy City!”

“Good decision. All the best things are only $19.99,” Owen reasoned.

Little Ace had seen enough commercials on the TV to know her friend was undoubtedly correct. “It’s true. Lemonade stand it is, then! Come on, let’s go home and get squeezin’!”

## Chapter Four

“Found the souvenir you want so quickly, huh?” asked IcySky once Little Ace returned home with Owen. “At least I can count on your decisiveness.”

Little Ace and her friend were already at their intense work moving the lemons on the juicer. “Yeah-ha-ha! *Decisive!*”

In the living room, Prince Toast was hard at work dragging out a foldable table he found in the garage. “Gee, I hope this is big enough for you,” he said to Little Ace. “Hope it holds up, too. I can’t remember buying this, but it looks pretty cheap.”

IcySky set out a small brown shoulder bag by the door. “Put the money you earn in this,” he said. “This was *not* so cheap, so make sure you don’t lose it.”

“We won’t,” Little Ace promised. “Hey, how much sugar are we supposed to add to this?” She and Owen had blown completely through their pile of lemons and were putting the lemonade from the juicer into its own pitcher.

“A cup and a quarter,” Prince Toast called over. “I can get the measuring spoons if you need.”

Little Ace opened the drawer and pulled out the full cup and quarter cup spoons. “I got it! Mmm, sugar…”

Half an hour later, IcySky lugged the foldable table out to the street in front of the house. Little Ace helped him set it up while Owen brought out the cups and Prince Toast took the pitcher.

Once it was all set up, Little Ace’s dads headed back up the driveway. “Good luck!” said Prince Toast with an encouraging smile.

“Even if you get $20, don’t stop selling until the lemonade’s all gone,” IcySky advised.

“Unless you’re burning up in this 88-degree weather,” Prince Toast continued. “We have ice bandanas inside if you need-”

“We’ll be fine, thanks!” called Owen. The hatchlings waved goodbye and then sat on the curb, waiting for their customers.

Not a minute had passed before the first neighborhood resident, an olive-green horse, passed by their table. “Lemonade, 50 cents a cup!” shouted Little Ace.

“Freshly squeezed!” Owen added.

The horse they stopped glanced over the lemonade, then the white-rimmed red polystyrene cups, and nodded. “Alright, I’ll try a cup.”

Little Ace and Owen grinned at each other. Owen received the honor of pouring the first cup, a true sugary satisfaction to watch as the sunny liquid poured in. “Here you go, mister,” said Owen.

Their customer nickered and took a sip. It took a moment, but he finished the serving and smiled down at his cup. “Not bad, kids.” He flicked two quarters onto the table and trotted off.

“I think he liked it!” Little Ace told Owen hopefully.

Owen angled his snout forward. “Look, there’s someone else coming from the other side of the road. Looks like they have a couple of kids with them.”

Little Ace beamed. Someone coming all the way from across the street to try her and Owen’s lemonade was a true achievement.

“Hello! Would you like to try our lemonade? Fresh and only 50 cents a cup!”

“Please, Mama?” one of the two young goats begged her mother.

“I’m *soooo* thirsty,” the other one agreed. Little Ace couldn’t tell if the little goat had been dunked in a pool or if he was just sweating profusely.

Sighing, the mother goat caved. “Alright. A dollar fifty, is it?”

“Yup,” said Owen. He accepted the cash and the goats went on their way.

The two kids skipped along the curb as they tasted their drinks. “I’m so glad it tastes good,” Little Ace told Owen. “I only tried a little spoon because I was so excited to finally get out.”

“I didn’t have any so that we’d have enough to sell,” explained Owen. “I hope we still do. Let’s see who comes to visit us next!”

## Chapter Five

Over the next two hours, during which Prince Toast had to bring out more ice cubes once and water bottles for the hatchlings three times, only five more customers bought any lemonade. The streets of Little Italy were almost empty in the heat of the scorching afternoon.

Little Ace watched Owen play Brownie Dash Empire on his phone until each new customer came. Business was slow, and it only seemed to be getting slower. “I’m bored,” sighed Little Ace.

“Me too,” agreed Owen. Both the hatchlings were shaken out of their tedium by impatient tapping sounds on the lemonade table.

Little Ace popped up first. “Hi, ma’am! We’re selling lemonade for fifty cents each. Would you like some?” Then her eyes went wide. The customer she was seeing, a pink sugar glider with a cream belly, had three young joeys with her.

“Owen!” she crouched down momentarily and elbowed her friend. “Customer jackpot!” That got Owen scrambling up on their claws.

“Just fifty cents, hmm?” the sugar glider said. “Do you kids want lemonade?” The three joeys all screeched with excitement and bounced up and down, their huge eyes fixating on the ice cubes floating in the lemonade.

“Alright, then. Four cups of lemonade, please,” said the mother sugar glider. Little Ace grinned and poured the pitcher while Owen held each of the four cups.

The joeys drank their lemonade down as soon as Little Ace finished pouring and they could get their grubby paws all over the cups. Their mother opened her wallet, gave two quarters, and began to walk off.

“Uhh, wait, miss!” Little Ace cried out after her. “You still owe me a dollar fifty!”

“I ‘*owe you*’ nothing of the sort!” the sugar glider growled back. “You sold me lemonade for fifty cents.”

Owen heaved an annoyed sigh. “It was fifty cents a *cup*, miss.”

“Well, isn’t *that* a dastardly overprice? All you’re selling is water with fruit floating in it. Come along, joeys.”

The sugar glider led her three babies down the street while all Little Ace and Owen could do was watch in disappointment. Two of them had their noses stuck in the air as their mother did, but one of them slipped a five dollar bill onto the plastic table for one of the hatchlings to take. “Sorry,” the joey whispered, then hurried off to follow his mother before she could realize he wasn’t behind her.

Once the sugar gliders were out of earshot, Owen jumped for joy. “Five dollars! Who knew Karens cash in?”

“That was kind of him,” Little Ace said with a smile. “That pushes us forward, but… hmm. Are you good with math?”

“One step ahead of ya,” said Owen. He clicked buttons on a calculator app on his phone. “Five dollars… fifteen… four cups… dollars…” He showed her the result on his screen. “We need to sell 20 more cups. But how can we possibly get all that when almost nobody’s coming by?”

Little Ace’s eyes popped wide. “How about,” she began, her teeth revealing in a mischievous grin, “We take this show on the road?”

## Chapter Six

What Owen expected when Little Ace said “take this show on the road” was the two of them zooming down the asphalt in a shiny red convertible, fashionable plastic sunglasses bouncing on their snouts as they bopped along to blasting music, pouring lemonade for onlookers as they stood alongside the roads with their cups held to the sky.

Needless to say, he was extremely disillusioned when he realized she only wanted his help carrying the table into the town.

“We’re right on the edge of it,” Little Ace had pointed out. “It’ll only be a few minutes’ walk to get to the busiest neighborhoods. Just down this hill here!”

Now the both of them were groaning under the weight of their table as each hatchling took an end and carried it above their heads down the sloping street. “This better pay off,” grunted Owen as sweat dampened his forehead.

“It will!” Little Ace reassured him. “Uhh, wait… I left the lemonade by the house. Hold the table for me.”

With this insufficient warning, she ducked out from under the table, letting go of the half she was holding up, and raced back up the hill to bring the cups and lemonade. Owen yelped as the other end crashed down onto the street and he was nearly struck in the head by the foldable legs falling on him.

Little Ace returned a minute later with the pitcher and red cups in her claws. “Okay, there were a few flies buzzing around it because I kinda just left it out in the open, but I hope it’s still o…kay…”

She observed Owen trapped under the collapsed table with a blank expression. “Need help?”

“I guess.” Owen moved his shoulders in an almost-shrug from where he lay splayed out.

“It broke, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Bright side,” said Little Ace, “Dad said it was a cheap table.” She took a step forward and the tower of cups nearly tipped over. Thinking quickly, she bent backwards with the pitcher nearly pressed against her nose, keeping the cups from toppling over. “Can you help me carry these cups, please? I’ll take the pitcher.”

“Let’s hope *those* don’t break,” grumbled Owen.

## Chapter Seven

“We should walk around shouting about our awesome drinks for only 50 cents, get some attention enough to sell the rest of it,” Little Ace suggested.

Owen tightened his mouth in his best thinking-hard face. “Or… we could go to people’s doors? Maybe we’ll get more that way.”

Little Ace checked her phone and gasped. “Oh! It’s almost 6:30. We’d better make some good time. But if we *really*wanna sell all this, we have to go to almost every door in these neighborhoods. Can you do that?”

“Sure can!” Owen set his jaw with determination.

“We can’t do it,” groaned Owen an hour later. They and Little Ace had made decent progress throughout half the huge suburban neighborhood, but though it wasn’t dark yet, the two hatchlings were thoroughly exhausted.

Rows upon rows of closely-packed houses in orderly organization sloped up and down hills and along the roads. If they really wanted to reach the other end, they’d have to take at least another hour – and in any case, they’d have to turn around and go back through it all over again anyway to get home.

“Ohh, everything hurts,” Little Ace complained. She clutched her back with her claws and stretched forward until she heard something crack.

So far, according to Owen’s earlier calculations, they still had 8 cups of lemonade left to sell in order to afford the souvenir Little Ace was after. Their success in finding customers had waned with the passing of the hour as more cars left their driveways and inside lights illuminated dinner tables with families settling down to eat.

“No thanks,” a dozen of the residents who answered the door had simply replied.

“We have lemonade at home,” one tiger that couldn’t have been older than Little Ace slammed the door in their faces. A python near the end of their stopping point bought a cup, but Owen and Little Ace could tell it was just out of pity.

Shoulders slumped, Little Ace hoisted up her pitcher and turned around to head home. “Looks like no souvenir this year,” she sighed. Owen wished they could help her, but they didn’t know what to do or say. If almost no one was walking around the town when they started going door-to-door, there was *definitely* not a soul going around the blocks at this hour.

“Maybe we can afford most of it already. I’m gonna check just in case,” said Owen. They grabbed the shoulder bag where they had been storing all the money they had made. “Five dollars… seven…” His counting trailed off.

“What?” Little Ace panicked. “Did we lose some?”

“Look,” whispered Owen.

She did. Owen pulled apart a pocket of the bag. Hidden inside it was a small stash of ones and assorted coins – at least ten dollars, as it appeared. Little Ace realized IcySky must not have emptied out the entire bag before giving it to them to store their money in.

Owen looked at his friend cautiously. “What if… we use *this* money for the rest of the souvenir?”

“What do you mean?” Little Ace tilted her head.

She had to lean forward to hear Owen’s voice, which he dropped to a whisper. “What if we pretend to have gotten this money? There’s enough to add to what we earned to make it $20.”

“No!” Little Ace backed up a pace. “We need to make the money ourselves.”

“How?” replied Owen. “Who’s around to sell more lemonade to?”

The hatchlings looked around. There wasn’t anyone out and about in the neighborhood. Street lamps’ lights glowed weakly with no pedestrians to illuminate. Little Ace knew it was the wrong thing to take the money and act like she’d earned it, but how could she possibly make the rest?

## Chapter Eight

Owen was staring expectantly at Little Ace.

“No,” Little Ace decided firmly. “We shouldn’t lie. I…” Her stomach, still internally indecisive, seemed to frown with her. “It was important to me that I could afford this souvenir myself. I’d rather have no souvenir at all than buy it with stolen money.”

Owen stared at her for a few seconds, then looked down at the ground. “You’re right,” he conceded sincerely. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Though the best friends were heading home along the rough streetside path beside one another, they were quiet as sleeping mice for a decent stretch of the way. There was no longer a sun in the sky to light up the numerous houses they passed. Once-bright lights in the windows switched off with each step.

“Let’s go a little faster,” Owen said eventually to try and cheer Little Ace up. “I’ll race you to that stop sign a few blocks down. Ready?”

Little Ace made a face like she was unsure, then blew a raspberry and pelted off to reach the sign before Owen could even say to go. “Hey, no fair!” he shouted after her, hot on her tail, but he was laughing all the way like a Christmas sleigh.

Despite Little Ace’s lead, the hatchlings arrived at the stop sign at about the same time. It was nearly night, and the last rays of pink were sinking into the horizon just above the forehead of the sun. The sky only darkened as they continued on their way home.

“Hey, what’s that?” Little Ace eventually asked. Her head was angled toward a rectangular gated-off area where bright colored lights were flashing and loud hip-hop music rose up into the air. In one corner, there was a shape that resembled a very small house or shed. She began to read a sign attached to one part of the gates enclosing the space. “*Must pay at front entrance to enter. Go right.* Huh.”

Owen’s blue-purple eyes lit up. “It’s a pool club! We can try to sell the rest of our lemonade there!”

“What if we can’t?” Little Ace sniffled.

“Well, then, I guess we just keep going home like we were doing before. But it looks like there’s a lot of swimmers in there… maybe some of them will want to buy a cup.”

His friend wiped her snout with her arm. “Okay. Let’s try it.”

“Yaaaaaay!” Owen grabbed her by the arm but stopped short when he accidentally jolted her forward. “Come on! I thought *you* were supposed to be the peppy one.”

“I *am* the peppy one!” Little Ace retorted, her grin returning.

“Prove it.” Owen gave her a light push backwards and she chased after them with newfound speed making her claws glide across the grass. The silver-barred door gate, sloping up at its center, loomed in front of them as they skidded to a stop.

“It’s locked,” said Little Ace. Nervous, she bit her claws. “Do you see a lifeguard or somebody around who could open it for us?”

“Pshhhh! Rules.” Owen winked and began to climb up a section of the gate that was shielded by tall bushes on the other side. “Get up beside me. Quick! And be careful not to bang the pitcher against the metal.”

Without stopping to think, as she knew Owen lived, Little Ace scurried next to him and stopped as far up as him behind a separate bush. On the pool side of the gate, a group of lizards were jogging around. They didn’t see the two hatchlings behind the bushes, but were heading fast in their direction.

“Swimmers running by the pool?” Little Ace blinked. “My Super Spider senses tell me there *really* must not be anyone in charge of this place around.”

“On the count of 3…” whispered Owen. His claws tightened around the bars as though he was preparing to fly up the bars at a moment’s notice.

The joggers drew closer, their breaths getting louder. “3… 2…”

At last, the group of lizards ran right in front of the bushes. “Now!” hissed Owen. He flung himself up the rest of the gate and landed on the top, just barely managing to maintain a precarious balance while he waited for his friend to appear on his other side.

By the time the joggers passed the bushes, Owen and Little Ace jumped down the gate onto the pool side with their claws interlocked and clutching the cups and pitcher for dear life.

Little Ace landed hard. Lemonade jostled around in her pitcher, a small splash landing on the pool patio and staining it with a dark splat. “I hope we still have enough…”

“We will,” said Owen. “Now let’s go find someone to sell it to!”

## Chapter Nine

“Why’s everybody at this pool when it’s so dark?” Little Ace asked Owen over the blasting hip-hop.

“Night swimmers,” Owen answered. “They think it’s stylish!”

The lizards circled the edges of the pool, expertly avoiding splashes from rowdy poolgoers and stepping over piles upon piles of towels, pool floaties, and light-up diving sticks that gave a shimmer to the patio stone.

There were animals all around the area, lounging on pool chairs or swimming about in the water, but a crowd of snow leopards and dogs that looked easygoing attracted Little Ace and Owen to try and sell their drink.

“Excuse me, sir,” Little Ace called to a blue-and-white snow leopard.

The leopard lowered his shades. “Whatcha need, little lady?”

Little Ace offered her pitcher while Owen steadied his leaning tower of cups. “Would you like some lemonade for 50 cents?” they asked together.

One of the dogs sniffed the edge of the pitcher. “Smells good,” she commented.

“Fifty cents only? Wow. Aight, I’ll take a cup.” said the leopard. “All the stupid pool food and refreshments they offer here are *way* too expensive. I’m not payin’ ten dollars for ‘mini chicken tenders’! But man, am I thirsty…” He held out five dimes. His cool-dude aura and expectantly-staring friends put pressure on Little Ace to pour it at just the right speed and amount…

“Here you go, mister,” Owen said once the little red cup was full. The snow leopard gave it a cursory inspection, then tipped it back to sip…

“Hey, this is awesome, dude!” he exclaimed with a big sharp-toothed grin on his face.

All the faces of his friends snapped toward Little Ace and Owen. The sight of so many rugged night-swimming adults fixating their thirsty eyes on her almost froze her up despite her usual appreciation of the spotlight, but Owen just offered more cups and wore the complacent face of a salesman. “Anyone *else* want some?” he asked smugly.

Lemonade disappeared from the pitcher in a matter of minutes. Little Ace hardly ever had a chance to zip up her shoulder bag because there was always another customer whose money needed to go in. “We’re selling out!” she exclaimed to Owen.

“Looks like we’ve got enough for *one more serving*,” Owen called out, eliciting gasps from the growing crowd that coalesced around him and Little Ace. The pitcher finally ran out as he filled the last cup with lemonade until it looked like one more drop might make it spill over.

The snow leopard from before raised his paw. “I’d *love* another serving, little bros!”

“You’ve already had a cup!” a sugar glider complained. “I’m one of the ones who’s been hanging over here the longest, and I still haven’t tried any.”

“I’ll give you a dollar for it if it means I don’t have to keep drinking this awful eight-dollar lemonade from the pool bar,” offered a dog.

Another lizard stepped forward. “How’s three dollars work for ya?”

Vociferations exploded around the pool, everyone offering the highest bid for the final cup of lemonade until even Owen was starting to look nervous. “Ehhh… anyone willing to buy it for… twenty dollars?” he tried.

“Sold,” a rooster said instantly. He slapped a crisp green twenty-dollar bill into Owen’s claws and snatched the cup before anyone else could take it. Whines and complaints filled the air.

Then, all of a sudden, they stopped. Everyone seemed to be looking toward the little shed-like building Little Ace had noticed earlier, which she realized must be the pool bar. She and Owen followed their stares and nearly jumped at the pool bar worker who was staring right at them.

“Hey!” the worker, a burly white bear, shouted. “You’re not supposed to be selling your own food here!”

“RUUUN!” screamed Little Ace.

## Chapter Ten

Little Ace took Owen by the arm and sprinted for the gates. The pool worker followed them, a broom in his huge paws as if he was trying to chase away pests in a kitchen. “On the count of 3,” Little Ace yelled to her friend.

“1!” said Owen.

“2!” Little Ace screwed her eyes shut.

“*3!!*”

The nimble armadillo lizards catapulted themselves up the silver bars that evidently failed at keeping unwanted visitors out and landed hard on their claws outside the pool club’s property. Owen risked a glance back. “He’s still chasing us!” he screamed.

Together they wove across the streets, behind picket fences and past oak trees, faster than they had come that way hours ago. Houses went by in a blur until the outraged yelling of the bear couldn’t be heard even if they stopped to listen.

Little Ace was out of breath, but still she managed to wheeze out a few words: “That’s Little Italy, up that hill!” She had no idea they’d be getting back to her house so quickly. “We must have been walking *really* slowly earlier.”

“I’d better walk back to my house, my mom’s gonna wonder where I am,” Owen panted. “But have fun on your trip, Little Ace! I’ll text you! Hope you get your souvenir!”

“I have enough to buy it now! My own little cake sliver of Sandy City!” Little Ace feebly attempted to do a victory dance and promptly collapsed on the ground. “Thanks for all the help, Owen!”

“Byeeeeee!” Owen waved his farewell, then took his own path home. Little Ace put on her shoulder bag, picked up the few remaining cups and the pitcher, and made her way up the hill.

Prince Toast opened the door. There stood Little Ace, bag strapped over her shoulder, empty pitcher and cups tucked in her elbow, expression totally innocent. “Ace Elsker!” he exclaimed. “What have you been doing? You- the lemonade stand- you just disappeared! We went looking, but you were nowhere!”

“Owen and I thought it’d be a good idea to take our stand into town so we could get better business.” Little Ace simply blinked. “We went selling it to people’s doors.”

“Well, did it work?” Prince Toast spluttered, clearly struggling to pick what to be mad at her for.

Little Ace thought for a moment. “Yes,” she replied at last.

Prince Toast heaved his shoulders. “Well, good. Just… don’t ever do that again. If you want to do a mobile lemonade stand, at least text us so we can help you or know where you are!” He stopped short. “Wait, where’s the foldable table we gave you?”

“You said it was a *cheap* table!” exclaimed Little Ace, throwing her arms in the air.

“*ACE!!*”

**THE END**

## Credits

* Written by Teddbeary from 5/19/2023 to 6/1/2023.

## Trivia

* Brownie Dash Empire is a reference to the real-world game “Cookie Run: Kingdom!”
* In the original storyline, Little Ace and Owen would seek advice on how to best sell their lemonade from Dunkin between chapters 3 and 4, but this was cut.

## Art/Fanart

Art by Lun4rC00k13C4t
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