Jenna Ortega Character Oneshots and Imagines

Lemonade - V.C.

When I was seven years old, my friend , Vada and I started a lemonade stand.  Ever since then, she and I have been inseparable.

It was a hot summer week, and quite frankly, we had nothing to do. Her mom had just gotten back from the store and asked us to unpack the groceries. Neither of us wanted to, but like I said earlier, we had nothing else to do.

"Oh my goddd the weather is killing me!" I complained, putting the milk carton in the fridge. She nodded in agreement.

"Look!" she squealed, "lemons!" She takes out a huge bag of lemons.

"That's a lot of lemons, V," I laughed.

"Buy tuh-woo, get three free," she desperately tried to read the label.

"You mean buy two get three free?" I tried to raise an eyebrow.

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes, "we should make lemonade!"

I got out her mom's fancy pitcher and a knife, and miraculously didn't get cut while slicing the lemons. Less miraculously, the juicing of the lemons on multiple occasions stung our eyes.

"Okay, we gotta add lots of sugar," Vada told me, tasting the pure lemon juice. Her face puckered up in a way that even then I knew was not good.

"I love sugar!" I smiled, pouring an unhealthy portion of sugar in.

By the end of the afternoon, we made one dollar an seventeen cents with our one sale to the boy, Nick, down the street. 

"We should go buy candy!" Vada's eyes lit up.

"Ooh! M&M's! And jolly ranchers! And gummies!"

That was also the day we learned that there's not much you can but for $1.17.

It was a devastating day.

Twelve years later...

"Hi Vada," I exclaim, running up to the shorter brunette, giving her an obligatory head pat before enveloping her in a hug.

"Hi!" she smiles widely. I love her smile so much.

"What do you wanna do today?" I ask.

"What's there to do?" she replies. We end up lying down on her trampoline for at least an hour, scrolling through TikTok's together.

"What is it with the Lana Del Rey, will you serve me Lemonade trend?" Vada says, confused.

"No idea," I confess, "but it's fun to see celebrity glow ups showcased by it."

"No, totally," she laughs, "You've totally gotten a glow up."

"No, you're literally hotter than the sun, shut up Vada!" Vada's definitely the prettiest girl I know. Everything about her is so flawlessly beautiful. She could literally wear the silliest most random outfit she found at the bottom of her closet and pull it off perfectly.

"You shut up!" 

We sit in silence for a moment, then an idea pops into my head.

"Let's make lemonade!" I decide. Vada shoots up excitedly, "yes please! Anything other than TikTok's!"

"I agree."

We set off to work, making (much better) lemonade than we made last time.

"Okay, first of all, your mom has a lemon juicing thingy now, which feels over the top fancy, but we should probably use it," I tell her.

"It's literally a thingy you put lemons on and twists them, that's not fancy!"

"Whatever, let's use it!"

We slice up the lemons and begin to juice them.

"Damn, if this is what giving handjobs to guys is like, I do not want to date guys. Honestly, not really into that even before this. Like honestly, they're not doing it for me," she rambles. Her rambles are the cutest thing. If you don't interrupt her, she can go one for hours about conspiracy theories, shows, books, songs. It's one of the many things I love about her.

"Vada, you're literally gay, you don't have to worry about handjobs."

"No you're literally gay!" she points a finger at me. I pretend to take offense, slapping a hand over my heart. Joking around with her is the highlight of any day.

"We're both gay, now work on the water to sugar to lemon ratio," I decide.

"Why are you turning lemonade into mathhhhh," she complains.

"Just work on it!" I exclaim.

"Anything for you, my dear," she winks at me.

We finally finish the lemonade after fifteen minutes of bickering. I'm excited to try it, honestly. I haven't had good lemonade in years.

"Will you give me some?" she asks, noticing I've poured myself a glass.

"Pay Up!" I laugh.

"Is $1.17 enough?" she asks innocently.

"Why, you got that much?"

"The exact same coins," she confesses. I blush at the fact that she's kept coins from twelve years ago that we earned selling lemonade this whole time. I've never seen her as the sentimental type

"Damn, I must have meant a lot to you," I tease her.

"Not as much as you mean to me now," she takes a step closer to me, booping my nose.

"Oh yeah," I say, "and how much is that?"

She smirks, taking the lemonade out of my hand and setting it down on the counter.

"Enough to do this," she cups my cheeks and stands on the tips of her toes to brush her soft lips against mine. I hate to sound like a stereotype, but I swear I can feel fireworks go off in my stomach. My arms wrap themselves around her waist before finding their way to her hips and gently pulling her closer. She tastes like lemons and sugar(unsurprisingly considering we're making lemonade). Such a perfect taste for such a hot day. I could get used to this. It's hard not to crave more and more.

It's funny that just a few nights ago we were making fun of couples on TV who were like this, and yet now we're completely totally a cliche.

"Sorry if I read that wrong," Vada apologizes after pulling away.

"You're not reading it wrong, don't worry," I reassure her, kissing her lips again.