Lola Zola and the Lemonade Crush by Jackie Hirtz Page B

sports star in town. She stepped up to the front of the line, ready to buy her token cup and get it signed.
    Figuring there was only one way to reach her starstruck friend, Lola linked pinkies with Melanie and said, “Pinky, pinky, never finky…”
    Would Melanie even remember their secret oath? A half a second crawled by on its way to a full second before Melanie uttered the words Lola was waiting to hear.
    â€œKnuckle, knuckle, always chuckle,” Melanie said, knocking knuckles with Lola and snapping out of her goo-goo-eyed trance.
    The Twister Sisters returned to their mini-outpost on the other side of the street to watch in horror as Hot Dog held up a sign that read, “300 Buck-Cups Sold.” Slime was ahead by fifty cups and now would surely win the lemonade challenge unless Lola thought of something fast.
    â€œLola Zola, is this what you call a business?” asked Ruby Rhubarb, shaking her head in dismay and clutching her emerald-green pocketbook, which accented her designer attire—a purple and green sundress with a fitted jacket, matching heels, and a pair of real emerald earrings.
    Lola never dreamed her lemonade benefactor would enter the commerce zone. Yet there she was, standing haughtily before her, and tsk-tsk-tsking as Mr. Wembly shook hands with the crowd, nursed a cup of what must have been lemonade, and every once in a while slapped some cologne on his cheeks.
    â€œI think it’s time you turned this situation around, child,” said Ruby Rhubarb. “That’s what I told my Harry when our first business, Donut Delights, was on the brink of bankruptcy. People started counting calories, so we changed our business to Donut De Lites and just sold the donut holes, baked, not fried.”
    â€œGot any suggestions?” asked Lola.
    â€œBluff it,” said Ruby Rhubarb. “Play it close to the vest and bluff. Never let the competition know what’s really going on.”
    That night Lola tossed, turned, and yearned for the answer to her citrus depression. What did Ruby Rhubarb mean when she said to bluff it? Lola prayed to the Spelling Bee God to spell out the solution to her family’s financial woes, but when morning came, her mind was a blur and Bowzer was a cranky sleep-deprived wreck, no longer chasing his missing tail but actually trying to bite it.
    Lola skipped breakfast. How many leftover casseroles could one girl swallow, even with salsa? Besides, she couldn’t stand to look at her mother parading around the kitchen in her navy-blue business suit, talking about how she hoped to project a conservative impression the first day on the job at Boingo Bits.
    â€œLola love,” Diane Zola called from the kitchen.
    â€œWhat, Mom,” said Lola, who was hibernating in the bedroom, reading The Owl and the Pussycat to Bowzer, showing him the whiskered pictures.
    â€œEmployees at Boingo Bits have to punch in a code,” said Lola’s mother. “Otherwise the door won’t open.”
    â€œSo don’t open it,” shouted Lola, not wanting to hear one more syllable about Boingo Bits.
    â€œYou’ll never guess what the code is, Lola.”
    â€œLemonade,” Lola said, sarcastically.
    â€œClose,” said her mother. “It’s…”
    â€œIt’s time for me to go to school,” interrupted Lola, having heard all she could bear about the Wembly’s video gaming com-puke-tor company.
    *** *** ***
    During recess Lola overheard Buck blabbing about office politics. “Truth or lie?” said Buck to a cluster of kids waiting to check out balls. “My dad is Lola’s mom’s boss.”
    â€œLie,” said a student.
    â€œTruth,” said Buck, smirking.
    â€œLie,” the kids countered.
    â€œTruth,” insisted Buck.
    â€œWho cares?” said Samantha Roberts, clearly irritated at Buck. “Mr. Power-Tripper, Mr. Yo-Yo Boy, listen here—what your daddy does and who he