(A/N) The chapter is called "Lemons"... but read it with a French accent.

Will's P.O. freaking V. (You can stop reading with a French accent now)

If you can see me right now, don't ask.

Just don't ask what happened.

I have no clue.

But it did.

"Will," Nico said, giving me a side glare.

"I don't know," I said, staring at the disaster we had caused.

"How-" he started to say.

"It just did, Nico! Don't question it!"

"HOW IS IT POSSIBLE TO CATCH LEMONADE ON FIRE?!" Nico yelled, gesturing to the mess of burnt lemons.

"I... I dunno!" I exclaimed, just staring at this disaster.

"I thought you said you knew what you were doing!" Nico exclaimed as he wrinkled his nose at the smell.

"I thought I did!" I replied, still shocked.

There was a moment of silence.

"Well," I said, trying to lighten the mood a bit, "when life gives you lemons-"

That little flufflepuff cut me off, getting mad.

"Don't make lemonade, obviously! Make life take them back! I DON'T WANT LIFE'S DAM LEMONS!"

Nico took a deep breath.

"WHAT AM I SUPPOSE TO DO WITH THESE LEMONS, LIFE?! I DEMAND TO SEE YOUR MANAGER! WHAT MADE LIFE THINK IT COULD GIVE ME, NICO DI FREAKING ANGELO, LEMONS?!"

I stared at Nico as he continued to complain.

"YOU KNOW WHAT I'M GONNA DO WITH THESE LEMONS?! BURN YOUR HOUSE DOWN! THEN WE'LL SEE YOU TRY AND GIVE ME LEMONS AGAIN!"

I wrapped my arms around Nico. He needed to calm down.

"I'll let you be mad at life later," I whispered into Nico's ear. I tighten my arms around his waist. Nico's breath slowly dropped.

"Why later?" He asked, 'struggling' to get out of my grasp, but purposefully failing.

"Because," I whispered into Nico's ear, "we need to clean up these burnt lemons before the smell kills me."

Moral: When life gives you lemons, shove them down someone's throat.