The Lemonade Stand:

When life gives you lemons, do the impossible.

Summary:

Who knew that a simple tradition could bring together a multitude of dissimilar children? Furthermore, who could have predicted that this cherished convention would change the rest of their lives?

Disclaimer:

Did I brainstorm the magnificent show that is "Grey's Anatomy"? No. Did I spend hours writing a pathetic fan fiction that will never compare to Shonda Rime's work? Sadly, yes.

(when)(life)(gives)(you)(lemons)……….……………………(when)(life)(gives)(you)(lemons).

Chapter One:

… Make Lemonade.

Beads of sweat gathered cumulatively on a young girl's brow, the sun striking each droplet and creating kaleidoscopic images that were invisible to the naked eye. Each ebony hair rippled in a mechanic motion, forming an arch that clearly spoke of frustration. Yet the child continued to drive the powdery, yellow chalk into the sidewalk, never once showing signs of submission.

Minutes passed like agonizing heat waves, until finally an annoyed sigh escaped from the girl's twitching mouth. Wordlessly, she flung the worn-down stub into the flourishing grass that surrounded her. Summer seemed to be taking its toll.

She paused, silence reveling in its power once again, to peer at the scribbled mess that was supposed to resemble a lemon. Defeat made a brief appearance in her troubled eyes, but was quickly vanquished. She wouldn't stop until she got it right.

Crawling on all-fours, she dove into the tall blades of grass, almost disappearing as they consumed everything save her tangled and unruly black hair. Just as she eyed her prey, a hushed whisper broke her concentration. Silence had lost its reign, much to the girl's dismay.

Rolling ungracefully to her back, she propped herself onto her elbows, narrowing her dark eyes into sinister slits that were unwelcoming to say the least. Standing merely a few feet away (but hardly far enough for the provoked child) was a miniature girl.

Rays of sunlight bounced off of her already golden hair, giving the girl an almost angelic feature. Her eyes were polar opposites of the other child's; a misty grey-blue that seemed to mesmerize anything in their path. She fashioned a simple denim dress, complete with a cotton-candy pink undershirt and a pair of untarnished Mary-Jane's.

After carefully examination, the grass-ridden child decided that she wanted nothing to do with this subdued, and apparently sugary-sweet, little girl.

Before she had time to resume her hunt, however, the pint-sized stranger spoke again, "Hey, there. Watcha doin'?"

The callous girl smirked, "None of your business."

Devoting her attention to the task at hand, she revisited the maze of unending green grass, letting her hands wander over the dirty earth as they hopelessly searched for contact with the lost piece of chalk. Unfortunately, her new guest was determined to acquire conversation.

"My name's Meredith Grey," she muttered, a hint of desperation evident in her voice. "I'm, uh, new around here."

Exhaling nosily, the other child whipped her head around to make eye-contact once again, "Did I ask what your name was? Now scram, Meredith, before I decide to steal a chunk of your pretty blonde hair."

Meredith solemnly gazed at her shoes, tapping them together every so often, but never daring to cross the line between concrete and grass; the line that clearly segregated her from this arrogant little girl.

"I didn't mean to upset you or anything… I just, well, was hoping I could make some new friends, and then I saw you, and, I mean, you look like you're about my age and all, so maybe…" Meredith rambled, when she was abruptly cut-off by the other girl.

"Do you always talk this much, 'cause I find it really annoying," she snapped. "Look, I like to be by myself, thank you very much. I'm sorry that you have the whole 'new-kid-on-the-block' thing going on, but I need to get back to my own life. Find someone else who wants to play 'House' or 'Barbies' with you, okay?"

Meredith's lips quivered uncontrollably, "I n-never said I wanted to play 'House' with you. Besides, I hate 'House'… and 'Barbies'. And I d-don't know why you have to be so mean to me, when I was just being nice. Maybe I don't even want to be friends with you anymore."

The girl's eyebrows shot up in astonishment, "Hmmm, attitude. Guess I was wrong about you, Meredith."

Meredith stood, partially frozen on the sidewalk, save her hand that was angrily rubbing at her eyelids. Finally, she took a breath, "So, do you have a name?"

Surprisingly, the other girl cracked a smile, "Course I got a name, genius. It's Christina. Christina Yang."

Meredith tip-toed into the grass, cautiously breaking the barrier between them, "Cool. So, why ya looking for your chalk in the grass?"

"Well, I was trying to draw this lemon," Christina motioned to the drawings with a flick of her head, "And then I got really mad and decided to throw my chalk. When I get mad, I throw things."

Meredith giggled, "Yea, me too."

"Really? You don't seem like that kind of kid," Christina pondered. "You know, the one that gets mad and throws a fit."

"I don't throw fits; I just kinda close up and get really quiet," Meredith replied, lowering herself into the soft, lush grass.

"Oh, rebel!" Christina grinned. "Now, let's get back to business. We're looking for a small, crumbly yellow piece of chalk. Whoever finds it first gets to… use it first. Ready, set, go!"

"Wait," Meredith protested. "Why is it a race? I'm don't like races. Can't we just look for it together?"

Christina looked at her in awe, "You don't like races? Are you crazy? Whatever, I guess we can be a team this time. But next time, you're on!"

"Okay," Meredith agreed.

The two girls busied themselves in the lawn, their heads bobbing up and down simultaneously as they scurried about on their hands and knees. Eventually, a small fist protruded into the air, victorious as it clutched a stubby piece of yellow chalk.

"Yes, the winner is… Christina Yang!"

"But, I thought this wasn't a game," Meredith complained. "You said we were a team!"

"Okay, okay. Don't be a baby about it. Why don't we just draw some more lemons," Christina said, her triumph short-lived.

As Christina moved back to the sidewalk, her chalk in tow, Meredith followed, settling in the grass with her hands on her knees. She inaudibly observed as her friend carefully stroked the chalk along the gravel, leaving remnants of yellow color.

Christina took a short intermission, peering at Meredith through her thick lashes, "I don't like it when people watch me. It's kind of annoying."

"Sorry," Meredith apologized. "Watcha drawing lemons for, anyway?"

"No reason, I just like lemons, that's all."

Meredith became excited, her voice bubbling with joy, "Hey, you know what's really fun to do with lemons?"

"What?"

"Make lemonade!" Meredith gushed.

"What the heck is lemonade?" Christina grumbled, once again devoting her attention to the sidewalk.

"It's like a really yummy drink you make with lemons and sugar. You have to squeeze all the juice of the lemon and then add a bunch of other stuff. My daddy used to make it for me all the time," Meredith said. "It's really complicated though."

Christina frowned, "Doesn't sound like fun to me. I don't like sugary stuff anyway."

"Well," Meredith started, "You could always sell it; make a lemonade stand or something."

"Sell it? And make money?" Christina's interest peaked.

"Yea, I guess. I used to make lemonade stands with my old friends, and we had bunches of fun! One person gets to make the lemonade, and one can make the sign, and one can be like the leader…"

"I call it!" Christina squealed. "I'll be the leader, and we can make the bestest lemonade stand ever!"

"Okay, what can I do?"

Christina contemplated for a moment, "Umm, you can be the leader's assistant. I'll tell you what to do and stuff. It'll be fun, don't worry."

"Okay," Meredith nodded her head vigorously. "And I'll go find lots of other kids to help us. I betcha we'll make tons of new friends!"

"Oh, right. Friends," Christina said, evidently disinterested. "How 'bout we just do it, you and me?"

"Can we at least get one more person," Meredith begged.

Christina shrugged, "I guess. But let's make it fast. I want to get started soon!"

"Okay, let's go!" Meredith sounded eager.

"Don't you gotta ask your mom first?" Christina asked.

"Nah, she won't care. She's busy right now, anyway."

"Yea, mine too," Christina agreed. "Let's hit the road."

So, with Meredith practically skipping down the street, the two girls began their quest, unable to comprehend the adventure that was about to begin.

(when)(life)(gives)(you)(lemons)……….……………………(when)(life)(gives)(you)(lemons).

Isobel Stevens was completely absorbed in her own make-believe world, letting the images of beautiful princesses and enchanting castles trump anything reality had in store for her. She was and always had been a believer; the kind of girl who put all of her effort into unrealistic dreaming.

Her fairy-tale, however, faded into oblivion as the doorbell summoned her to retreat downstairs. White-blonde curls bouncing hysterically, Izzie bounded to the front door, flinging it open in an instant.

There stood two girls, one smiling shyly, the other one scowling.

"May I help you?" Izzie asked politely.

"Uh, sorry, wrong house," Christina grumbled, grabbing Meredith's arm and leading her away from the door.

"What?" Meredith questioned, retrieving her arm and giving her friend a stern look.

Christina cupped her hand around Meredith's ear, whispering fast, "Look, we don't want this girl on our team. Believe me! I know her type… she's way too cheery, and friendly, and just… too everything."

Choosing to ignore Christina's comment, Meredith returned to the front door, "Sorry about her, she's a little forgetful sometimes."

Christina deepened her already ominous scowl.

"Anyway," Meredith continued, "We wanted to know if you'd be interested in making a lemonade stand with us."

Izzie's face brightened immediately, "Sure! I've always wanted to have a lemonade stand, believe me! And don't worry; I'm a really good helper. My mom always tells me so."

Meredith smiled in reply, "Umm, okay. Well, my name's Meredith, and that's…"

"Yang. Christina Yang," Christina interjected.

"Okay, it's really great to meet you guys! I'm Isobel Stevens, but everyone just calls me Izzie. It's a lot shorter, and easier to say. I had no idea that there were other girls on this street my own age… how old are you guys, anyway?" Izzie continued, never stopping to take a breath.

"7," they chanted concurrently.

"Wow, I'm 7 too! Actually, 7 ½ to be correct," Izzie beamed.

"Are you kidding? 7 and a half? You must have special privileges or something," Christina commented dryly.

"Don't mind Christina, she's just a little moody 'cause she lost her yellow chalk," Meredith explained.

"Oh, okay," Izzie grasped. "Want me to help you find it?"

"Already done," Christina answered harshly.

"Great! I'll just go ask my mom if I can come," Izzie said. "Hey, do you want me to see if we have any ingredients or anything?"

"Yea, that'd be awesome!" Meredith smiled.

"Back in a flash," Izzie said, before darting back inside her house.

Once the door had successfully latched, Christina turned on Meredith, "What did you just do?"

Meredith looked puzzled, "Umm, invite Izzie to help us make lemonade? Isn't that what we set out to do in the first place?"

"Common, Mer. You can't possibly think that this is a good idea. The girl's completely crazy! She's probably gonna invite us some unicorn party where we dress-up like princesses and wear poofy dresses and… ugh!" Christina ranted.

"Oh, lighten up! She seemed really nice. Plus, she might have some stuff for the lemonade," Meredith coaxed her relentless friend. "Trust me, okay?"

"Trust you," Christina muttered. "I barely even know you."

Seconds later, the hinges creaked again and Izzie was back, "So, my mom says that it sounds like a great idea! And, she gave me a couple lemons to get us started. Isn't that just fantastic!"

"Yea, we'll be up and running in no time," Meredith said.

"Whoopee," Christina mumbled apathetically.

As the trio ventured back onto the blazing sidewalk, Christina couldn't help but wonder if this whole idea was a disaster waiting to happen.

(when)(life)(gives)(you)(lemons)……….……………………(when)(life)(gives)(you)(lemons).

AN:

Okay, so it may seem kind of pointless right now, but I promise it will get better! This is the first truly light-hearted story I've ever attempted so bear with me and feel free to give any critique. Suggestions are awesome too. In conclusion, just review and tell me what you think.