A lemon fell, smack-dab-plop, in the middle of the emerald lawn.

Oh dear, thought Eva, Life is giving me lemons again!

She looked up from her place on the ground to see a teenage boy running up the street, a sneer on his face and a cruel laugh peeling off his lips.

She sighed without much feeling, reaching for the oddly-shaped fruit and turning it over in her hands.

Life was such a rotten kid. If she was his mother, Eva would have long ago shipped his sorry lemon-throwing bottom to the Moon.

Sadly, Eva was not his mother. She was his fifteen year old classmate. Oh the horror.

With no change in expression, the petite little Eva squeezed the lemon; it was no more than pulp in a matter of seconds, and she smiled maliciously.

As her father would say, “when life gives you lemons, make lemonade!” But as her features twisted around a snarl, Eva remembered she was fresh out of sugar.