003: Copycat Season

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Chapter 1: Summer Plans and a New RivalNoah squinted under the bright summer sun, proudly surveying Mainstreet Society’s beachside lemonade stand. School was out, and the summer holidays had just begun. He and his friends had big plans for their small business this season. With tourists flocking to the beach, it was the perfect time to earn money and spread word about their lemonade venture.

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Jules helped Noah wipe down the counter one last time. Jules was Noah’s energetic partner-in-crime, always ready with a joke or creative idea. But today Jules wore a bittersweet smile. He was leaving that afternoon for Jervis Bay, where he’d spend the holidays with his family.“We’ll miss you, Jules,” Noah said, handing him a freshly squeezed cup as a send-off. Jules grinned and raised the cup in a toast. “I’ll miss you guys too. Save some lemonade fame for me, okay?” They clinked their cups playfully. Immy – their other friend and team member – laughed. “We’ll try, but no promises. You know Noah’s lemonade is irresistible.”With a final group hug, Jules departed down The Esplanade to catch his ride. Noah watched his friend go, feeling both proud to continue the stand and nervous about doing it without Jules’s help. Little did Noah know, a new challenge was about to arrive and test him like never before.

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That challenge rolled up in style the very next day. As Noah and Immy opened up their stand in the morning, a flashy banner caught their eye from just a few meters away. A second lemonade stall was setting up alarmingly close – almost right next to Mainstreet Society’s spot on the beach promenade. Noah’s heart skipped. Competition had arrived.

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The rival stand belonged to Marcus, an older boy Noah recognized from the neighbourhood. Marcus was probably a couple of years older – confident, tall, and backed by a cash-rich cousin who was unloading supplies from a fancy SUV. In no time, Marcus’s stand came together with sleek, professionally printed signage that read “Lemonade Empire” in bold, sun-bright letters. He had a shiny logo, branded cups, and even a foldable awning for shade.

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Immy’s jaw dropped. “Is he seriously setting up right here?” she whispered to Noah. Balmoral Beach was public space, and anyone could operate a stand with the proper permit – which Marcus clearly had – but it was an unspoken rule not to crowd someone else’s spot. Marcus either didn’t know or didn’t care.Noah forced a polite smile and walked over. “Hey Marcus. Setting up a lemonade stand too, huh?”

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Marcus turned, flashing a practiced smile that seemed more for an audience than for Noah. “Oh, hey Noah. Yeah, figured I’d give it a go. Summer project.” He spoke casually, but Noah couldn’t shake the feeling that Marcus’s presence was very deliberate. “Well, good luck,” Noah offered, trying to stay friendly. Inside, his stomach fluttered with worry. Marcus’s stall looked really impressive – far more polished than Noah’s homemade wooden stand and hand-painted sign saying “Mainstreet Society Lemonade.”As he walked back, Noah surveyed the two setups side by side.

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The differences were stark:· Mainstreet Society Stand: A quaint, wooden stand Noah built with his dad last year. Painted sky-blue with white trimming, it had charm but looked homemade. The sign was hand-painted by Jules and Immy, slightly uneven letters but full of heart. They often taped up daily doodles or a menu drawn in marker.· Marcus’s Lemonade Empire: A professional vinyl banner that gleamed in the sun. Crisp lettering, a catchy slogan (“Cold, Bold, and Gold!”). He had large dispensers with fruit slices visible inside, matching tablecloths, and even a small speaker quietly playing upbeat music to draw attention.Immy crossed her arms, looking at their own stand. “Our stand has character. People love authenticity, right?” she said, trying to reassure herself as much as Noah. Noah nodded slowly. Authenticity had been Mainstreet Society’s strength. They prided themselves on honesty – real lemons, fair prices, friendly chatter. Surely customers would appreciate that over flashy gimmicks… or would they? They were about to find out, as the summer rush began.

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Chapter 2: The Crowd ThinsIn the first days after Marcus’s arrival, Noah and Immy tried to stick to their routine. They squeezed lemons, mixed in just the right amount of sugar, and welcomed customers with genuine smiles. Some regulars still stopped by, greeting Noah by name and commenting on the warm weather. For a little while, it seemed like both stands might coexist – different styles, different crowds.

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But by late morning, Noah noticed something troubling: his line was shrinking while Marcus’s was growing. A group of teenage girls walked past Mainstreet Society to Marcus’s stand, enticed by something on their phones. A family that used to buy Noah’s lemonade every Saturday was now standing under Marcus’s awning, snapping photos with Marcus as he handed the kids bright yellow cups.Noah’s heart sank as two of his repeat customers shrugged apologetically. “We’ll be back, Noah,” one called, “just checking out the new stand!” They dropped those words as if trying not to hurt Noah’s feelings. He mustered a polite wave, but inside it stung.

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“What’s he got that we don’t?” Immy muttered under her breath. They both looked over: - Marcus had fixed pricing displayed clearly: “Lemonade – $2 per cup, any size.” Noah and Immy had always been a bit flexible – they suggested $1.50 for a cup but often accepted whatever change people offered, and sometimes gave free refills to friendly folks. Marcus’s clear, no-nonsense pricing projected professionalism. - Marcus’s stand had social media hype. He’d set up a tripod earlier and taken a selfie video, urging his followers to come down for “the best lemonade on the beach.” Throughout the morning, a few teens mentioned they saw Marcus’s post on social media. - Marcus’s signage was simply more eye-catching. Noah cringed to admit it, but the bright banner and the upbeat music did a great job luring people. Meanwhile, Mainstreet Society’s hand-drawn sign looked tiny and easy to miss in comparison.By noon, the sun was high and usually that meant prime lemonade time. But while Marcus’s stand bustled, Noah’s had only a trickle of customers. Immy tried calling out more actively, “Ice-cold lemonade here!” but her voice was drowned by the laughter and chatter around Marcus’s crowd.

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Feeling desperate to understand, Noah stepped away for a moment to “take out the trash” – mostly an excuse to drift closer to Marcus’s operation. That’s when he overheard two college-aged guys talking near the trash bin.“Why not Noah’s stand? That kid’s been here since last year,” one asked, sipping Marcus’s lemonade.The other guy lowered his voice, but Noah caught his words: “Heard something about his group… like ‘Mainstreet Society’ being kind of dodgy. Not sure what, but my friend said they’re not totally legit.”Noah’s eyes widened. Dodgy? Not legit? His mind raced. Mainstreet Society was just the fun name they gave their little venture – there was nothing dodgy about it! He and his friends were as honest as could be. They kept their ingredients fresh, their money box tidy, even donating a portion of earnings to the local community centre. Where would a rumour like that come from?

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He didn’t have to think long. His eyes found Marcus, who was at that moment cheerfully handing a customer change and chatting. Marcus glanced over and for a split second, Noah caught a smirk on his face – not the friendly smile from earlier, but something more self-satisfied. Noah felt a chill of realization. Marcus was spreading those rumours. He must have quietly planted the idea that Mainstreet Society was shady or untrustworthy to peel away Noah’s customers.

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Noah’s stomach churned with a mix of hurt and anger. Competition was one thing – but sabotage by gossip? It felt unfair and underhanded. He trudged back to his stand, forcing a neutral expression so Immy wouldn’t see his distress. But Immy could read Noah like a book.“What happened? What did you hear?” she asked softly as soon as he returned. There were no customers at the moment, so Noah told her in a low voice about the rumour. Immy’s eyes flashed with indignation. “Dodgy? How dare he! We’ve been nothing but honest. We even put up that poster about where part of the money goes for charity. This is ridiculous.”

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She was right – taped to the front of their stand was a little poster Jules had made, explaining that 10% of their summer profits would go to the community centre’s art program. They prided themselves on doing good. The thought that people might think they were deceitful or “not legit” made Noah’s cheeks burn with embarrassment and anger.

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A few customers approached then, cutting off the conversation. Noah and Immy served them as cheerfully as they could manage. But the joy of the day was gone for Noah. As the afternoon dragged on, he couldn’t shake the question gnawing at him: Does honesty still matter, if someone dishonest can win so easily?

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Chapter 3: Frustration and Friction. By the end of the day, Noah and Immy had sold far fewer cups than normal. They closed up early, watching from a distance as Marcus’s Lemonade Empire continued attracting a crowd with what looked like a small event – Marcus had his phone out filming again, maybe live-streaming with his boisterous friends cheering in the background.Walking home with the portable cash box and leftover lemons, Noah felt a heaviness that wasn’t just the supplies he was carrying. Immy walked beside him in silence for a while, until she finally spoke up in a huff. “This is unsustainable. If this keeps up, we’ll be out of business before summer’s half over.”Noah knew she was right.

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But the bitterness of the rumour weighed on him more than the lost sales. “It’s not just the sales… it’s what he’s doing to our reputation. People think we’re dodgy, Immy. Us! Because he’s telling them that.” He kicked a small pebble on the sidewalk, frustration evident.Immy’s eyes blazed. “So what are we going to do about it? We can’t just let him smear us. Maybe we need to fight fire with fire.”Noah glanced at her, frowning. “What do you mean?”She hesitated, then shrugged. “I mean… maybe we spread a thing or two about him. Or at least, call him out publicly. If he wants to play dirty, we might have to get a little dirty too, just to defend ourselves.”Noah stopped walking. Hearing Immy, usually the kind and level-headed one, suggest sabotage back took him by surprise. “Immy, that’s not who we are,” he said slowly. “We can’t just make up lies. What would we even say? That his lemonade is… what, made from concentrate? That he’s in it just for money?”

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Immy threw her hands up. “I don’t know! But we have to do something. We can’t keep being the nice guys if it means getting trampled. Look where honesty got us today – practically empty-handed.”Her words stung. Noah had always believed that running their business honestly and generously would win people’s trust. It had worked well enough until now. “Maybe honesty isn’t enough,” he murmured, voicing the fear that had been forming all day.

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They resumed walking, tension thick between them. After a moment, Immy sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t actually want to lie or spread rumours. I’m just so mad. It’s like he’s cheating.” She kicked a pebble too, sending it skittering across the pavement.Noah nodded. “He is cheating, in a way. And it’s working.” The injustice of it made him clench his fists. They needed a plan, but Noah’s mind was a whirlpool of anger, hurt, and doubt.By the time they reached Noah’s dad’s house (where Noah was staying this week), they’d cooled down a little. Immy offered a small smile. “We’ll think of something, Noah. We’ll figure this out tomorrow, okay?”“Okay,” Noah agreed quietly. Immy hopped on her bike and rode off, leaving Noah standing at the gate with his box of supplies. He hoped his dad was home – the box was heavy and he could use a hand.

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Noah’s dad answered the door after a couple of knocks. “Hey, kiddo,” he greeted, then noticed Noah’s weary expression and the half-empty lemonade jug under his arm. “Tough day?”“You could say that,” Noah replied, stepping in. The cool air of the house was a relief after the hot day, but it couldn’t lift the cloud over him. “There’s a new competitor on the beach. It… didn’t go so well.”His dad nodded sympathetically and helped Noah put down the equipment. “Competition’s part of business, son. Maybe you can find a way to stand out. You know, offer something he doesn’t.” He patted Noah’s shoulder encouragingly.Noah mustered a weak smile. “Yeah, maybe.”He knew his dad was trying to help, but Noah didn’t feel like explaining the full story – the rumours, the influencer crowd – not yet. Right now, he just wanted a cold shower and some sleep. Tomorrow, they’d have to face Marcus again, and hopefully find a way to fight back that still felt right.

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Chapter 4: Home Turf Tightrope. The next morning, Noah woke up with a mix of dread and determination. He had barely slept, his mind churning through ideas and worries. One thought kept returning: If honesty alone wasn’t enough to keep their customers, what else could they do without compromising their values?Before he could figure that out, he had a more immediate challenge: moving day. It was Sunday, which meant it was time to switch from Dad’s house to Mum’s house for the week – something Noah had done every week for the past eight years, ever since his parents divorced. Usually, it was routine by now, but now he had a growing lemonade stand’s gear to lug around as well.

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Noah gathered his essentials: clothes, school backpack (though it was summer break, he still had his personal items), and then all the Mainstreet Society equipment he’d brought to Dad’s: - A large cooler for ice. - A folding table (his dad had been storing the table in the garage). - The cash box and their ledger notebook. - Leftover paper cups, a bag of sugar, and a few lemons they hadn’t used.It was a lot to carry. Asking awkward favours from his parents was becoming routine since the stand took off, and Noah braced himself for another one.“Dad,” Noah said after breakfast, eyeing the pile of stuff by the door, “could you maybe give me a ride to Mum’s? I have a lot to take this time.”His dad, sipping his coffee, looked over the mountain of lemonade supplies and gave a low whistle. “That operation’s getting big. Sure, I can drive you over.” Then he hesitated. “Does your mum know you’re bringing all… this?” “I told her I had extra things this week. I didn’t list everything, but she said it was fine,” Noah said, hoping that was still true. He had texted her last night that he’d need to transport “stand stuff” over. She only responded with “OK” and a thumbs-up emoji, which wasn’t exactly detailed confirmation.

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Fifteen minutes later, Noah and his dad were carrying the equipment to the car. As they loaded the folding table, Dad chuckled, “Remember when your whole lemonade stand fit in a little wagon? Now it’s like moving a mini-café each week.”Noah smiled at the memory of his first-ever lemonade sale as a little kid with a toy wagon. That seemed ages ago. “Yeah. It’s grown a bit.”The drive to his mum’s was short – she lived only a few suburbs away – but Noah felt a knot of anxiety. His parents were usually polite when handing him off, but they rarely chatted much beyond the basics. They were amicable, sure, but also awkward, as if unsure how to act around each other. And they almost never directly helped one another. Noah worried that arriving with a car full of Dad helping him might trigger some weird tension.

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They pulled up at Mum’s apartment building. She was waiting outside to greet Noah. Mum looked surprised to see how packed the car was when Noah and Dad opened the trunk. “Oh my… that’s a lot more than last week,” she remarked, raising an eyebrow with a half-smile.“Hi Mum,” Noah said, going in for a hug. She hugged him tightly, then nodded at Dad. “Thanks for bringing him and… all that.” Her tone was polite, but Noah detected a hint of strain.“No problem,” Dad replied, equally polite. “His business is booming, I guess.” He tried a friendly laugh.Mum forced a tiny chuckle. “I can see that. We’ll have to find space for everything. Maybe the storage nook in the hallway?” She directed the last part to Noah.Noah nodded quickly, wanting to defuse any discomfort. “Yeah, that could work. I’ll set up there.”As they hauled the cooler and table out, Noah’s parents accidentally grabbed the same handle of the cooler, then both let go as if stung. “You go first,” Mum said. “It’s fine, I got it,” Dad responded at the same time. They paused, then Dad ceded the cooler to Mum and instead took the bag of supplies. Noah silently watched this delicate dance, heart twinging. They were trying not to argue, but even small coordination was clunky.

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At last, everything was upstairs in Mum’s hallway nook. Dad cleared his throat. “Alright, I should get going.” He gave Noah a pat on the back. “Good luck this week, champ. Let me know if you need anything.”“Thanks, Dad,” Noah said. He wished, not for the first time, that he didn’t feel like a visitor shuffling between two separate worlds. Especially now, when he needed support more than ever with the Marcus situation.

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After Dad left, Mum helped Noah organize the items. She tried to lighten the mood. “So, tough competition, huh?” she said, unpacking the sugar to store in her kitchen.“You heard about that?” Noah asked.She smiled knowingly. “Your dad mentioned a rival stand on the phone last night. He said you might need some extra help soon. You know I’m here for you too, right?”Noah was a bit surprised. “He called you? To talk about my stand?” His parents barely talked on the phone unless it was logistics about him.

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Mum nodded. “He did. I think he was worried. He suggested maybe we could both visit the stand together one day to show support.”This revelation left Noah momentarily speechless. His parents – the two people who avoided being in the same room aside from a wave at school events – coming together to his lemonade stand? That would be a first in eight years.“I… that’d be nice,” Noah managed to say. Inside, he felt a small bloom of warmth. Maybe Marcus’s competition was inadvertently doing one good thing: pushing his mum and dad to unite for him, even if just a little.

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Still, he had a long way to go to beat Marcus. “I might need more than just moral support, though,” Noah admitted. “I need to figure out how to deal with Marcus’s tactics.”Mum gave him a reassuring look. “One step at a time, honey. First get set up here, then tackle the business. You and Immy will come up with something, I’m sure.”Noah hoped she was right. As he settled into Mum’s place for the week, he felt slightly better knowing both his parents were in his corner – even if they weren’t exactly side by side, at least they were communicating for his sake. It was a start.

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Chapter 5: Brainstorm and Countermoves. On Monday morning, Noah and Immy met early at the beach to plan before opening their stand. The air was already warm, and the sound of gentle waves was almost soothing – almost, because Noah’s nerves were still jangling from the prospect of another day against Marcus’s flashy operation.Immy had a steely determination in her eyes.

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She slapped a notebook down on the lemonade stand counter. “Okay, let’s list out what Marcus has over us, and how we can respond,” she said without even a hello.Noah took a breath and nodded, grateful that Immy’s frustration had transformed into problem-solving mode. They put their heads together and listed Marcus’s competitive advantages: 1. Professional signage and branding – Marcus’s stand was undeniably eye-catching. 2. Social media presence – He had followers and was actively promoting online. 3. Loud support group – His friends (or maybe paid helpers?) were there making noise and attracting crowds. 4. Fixed low price – $2 flat, which undercut some other vendors in the area. 5. Rumours/Sabotage – The sneaky campaign to label Mainstreet Society “dodgy.”

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Now, how could Noah and Immy counter each point without compromising their integrity?- Signage/Branding: “We can’t afford a professional sign right now,” Noah said. “But maybe we can upgrade our look a bit.” Immy brightened, “I can run home and get some art supplies. We’ll repaint our sign bolder, maybe add some bunting or balloons to draw eyes.” It wasn’t a vinyl banner, but it could help.- Social Media: Noah bit his lip. They had a simple account for Mainstreet Society but barely used it. “Marcus has more followers than us, but maybe we can leverage the community instead. What if we post about our charity cause and get the community centre to share it? People might support us if they know their drink does good.” Immy grinned, “Great idea! We’ll make a heartfelt post – no smear, just truth about what we do.”- Support Group Noise: Immy smirked, “Two can play at that game. We may not have a gang of hype friends, but I bet I can rally some of our classmates to come by this afternoon. If nothing else, to hang out. Sometimes a crowd attracts a crowd.” Noah liked that – they wouldn’t be fake followers, just friends hanging out and showing genuine support.- Pricing: Noah considered this. “Our price is sorta flexible, which I thought was nice, but maybe people get confused or think it’s unprofessional.” They usually suggested $1.50 but let customers pay what they could. Marcus’s fixed $2 might seem more legit. “We could match him at $2 but also highlight that a portion goes to charity,” Immy suggested. “Like a built-in donation.” They agreed to make a new price sign: “$2 a cup – 10% goes to community charity!”- Rumours: This one was toughest. How to fight an invisible whisper campaign? “Honesty and openness,” Noah said slowly. “We keep doing the right thing and maybe even be more transparent. What if we invite people to see how we make our lemonade? Like, we could do a ‘See your lemonade made fresh’ thing. That might counter any idea we’re doing something dodgy with ingredients or money.” Immy nodded excitedly, “Yes! Maybe a mini ‘open kitchen’ concept – we can visibly wash the lemons, mix the sugar, keep everything super clean in front of customers. Let them see there’s nothing to hide.”

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Their brainstorming over, Noah felt a renewed sense of purpose. They had a plan that didn’t involve lying or undercutting – it was about highlighting their strengths: authenticity, charity, quality.“Alright,” Noah said, checking the time. “Marcus usually shows up a bit later in the morning. Let’s use the next hour to spruce up our stand and get the word out.”Immy jumped into action, hopping on her bike to dash home for art supplies and to grab her phone (she planned to make that social media post). Noah set about wiping every surface of the stand until it gleamed, arranging lemons and cups neatly to make their setup inviting. He found a few old balloons in the storage box (leftover from Jules’s birthday sale event) and blew them up, tying them to the corners of the stand. Bright yellow balloons bobbed in the breeze, matching the sunny vibe.

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When Immy returned, they painted bold letters on a fresh poster board: “NEW! $2 per cup – 10% to charity” and below that, “Watch us squeeze real fresh lemons!” The lettering was vibrant, accented with little lemon doodles. Noah propped it up front and centre.Immy also brought a string of colourful bunting flags which they draped along the front of the stand. Now Mainstreet Society’s stand looked festive and eye-catching in its own homemade way. It wasn’t the professional sheen of Marcus’s brand, but it had personality and heart – something regulars would recognize.

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By mid-morning, things were in full swing. Their first few customers noticed the changes. One mum with her toddler stopped and smiled, “Ooh, I love the new sign. And it’s wonderful you donate part of sales!” She pointed it out to her little boy as a teaching moment. Noah beamed and poured the lemonade with extra care right in front of them, engaging the boy: “See these lemons? We squeeze them fresh so your lemonade is super tasty and healthy!” The child giggled as Noah exaggerated an arm muscle flex from squeezing lemons. The mum left happy, and even tipped an extra dollar “for the charity.”Immy gave Noah a thumbs-up. They had a small line forming now. The day was already better than yesterday. But Noah knew the real test would come when Marcus arrived and the usual crowd drama ensued.

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Sure enough, late morning, Marcus rolled in. Today he wore trendy sunglasses and a tank top that read “#LEMONADE”. Two of his friends followed carrying supplies. They seemed taken aback for a moment by Noah’s newly decorated stand and the cluster of people around it. Noah noticed Marcus narrow his eyes just a little seeing the crowd at Mainstreet Society.But then Marcus flicked his cool smile on and set up as usual. His own loyalists – the teens and the curious – started gathering at his side soon after. It was like two magnets pulling different sets of people on the same beach corner. Tension crackled in the hot summer air between the two stands, even if unspoken.Around lunchtime, Immy’s reinforcements arrived – a group of four classmates who had seen her post online. They cheerfully came to hang out by Noah’s stand, buying lemonades and chatting loudly about how great Mainstreet Society’s lemonade was. It was somewhat staged enthusiasm, Noah realized with a grin, but it was genuine support from friends. The effect worked: seeing a small crowd of teens laughing and enjoying drinks drew more passersby who figured something fun must be happening.

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Noah’s heart swelled a bit at the sight of familiar faces rallying for him. He caught Immy’s eye and they exchanged a hopeful smile. This morning’s plan was paying off. However, they both knew Marcus would not sit by quietly if he felt his dominance threatened.

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Indeed, as afternoon wore on, Marcus initiated his own counter: he announced on a megaphone (where did he even get a megaphone?!) that the next 10 customers at Lemonade Empire would get a free second cup. That whooping offer sent a ripple of excitement and some people from Noah’s line peeled off to rush to Marcus’s.Noah felt a pang as he watched a few potential customers run over there. “Two for one, today only!” Marcus’s voice blared. His friends whooped and clapped, amplifying the promotion. Marcus shot a triumphant glance at Noah.Immy sighed. “He’s upping the ante. We didn’t think of doing a sale.”Noah frowned. They could match that offer – they had plenty of lemonade – but then they’d just be copying him back and forth. And giving away so much might hurt their revenue (and their promised charity portion).“Let’s stick to our strategy,” Noah said firmly. “We still have a good crowd. People will see through his tricks eventually. We just have to stay focused on quality and honesty.”Immy nodded, though she looked uncertain. It was hard not to do something dramatic to grab attention. But Noah didn’t want to get into a shouting match of promotions. That could spiral quickly.

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The rest of the afternoon felt like a tightrope. Both stands had decent business, but Noah noticed Marcus seemed increasingly desperate to maintain an edge. He kept looking over, and once Noah overheard him loudly telling a customer, “We’re the original beach lemonade here, accept no imitations!” which was ironic since Marcus was the copycat! Noah didn’t respond, but he shared a knowing look with Immy at that comment.By closing time, Noah and Immy were exhausted but relieved. They had improved sales from yesterday and felt they’d put up a good fight without sacrificing their principles. Still, Marcus remained a thorn next door, and the rivalry was only growing more intense.

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Chapter 6: Under PressureWednesday brought a heat wave – temperatures soared, which usually meant banner sales for cold drinks. It also meant tempers could flare under the scorching sun.By now, word of the Beach Lemonade Rivalry was circulating around town. Some locals came by just to watch the “show” of two stands competing. A few even hopped between both to compare lemonade (one such taste-tester declared it a tie, which neither Noah nor Marcus were thrilled to hear).

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Marcus’s cousin, the one funding his stand, made his first appearance that afternoon. Noah recognized him: a college-aged guy named Ben who sometimes hung out at the skate park. Ben arrived with a critical eye, immediately talking to Marcus in a low, intense tone. Noah, while serving a customer, caught snippets like “...need to dominate…” and “...I didn’t pour money into this for second place.” Marcus looked flustered, nodding quickly at his cousin’s hushed scolding.Ben’s presence explained a lot. Marcus wasn’t just doing this for fun – he had investors to satisfy, even if it was just one pushy cousin. Noah felt a twinge of sympathy; that pressure must be tough. But any pity was tempered by reality: Marcus had chosen this path, and he was still using underhanded tactics against Noah.The day’s battle escalated when Marcus’s cousin actually took over the Lemonade Empire stand for a while. Ben barked orders to Marcus’s friends, instructing them to spread out and draw people in actively. They started approaching beach-goers, practically dragging them over with aggressive flyering: “Free sample! Best lemonade around!”

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It was borderline obnoxious, and some people did shy away from the hard sell. But many were swayed by the sheer persistence. Mainstreet Society lost several potential customers to these tactics. One man shrugged apologetically to Noah, “Their guy just kind of pulled us in… I’ll catch you next time, kid.”Immy was livid. “That’s not fair! They’re not even letting people decide freely, they’re just corralling them.” She looked at Noah. “Should we do something? Maybe I should go tell them off.”Noah considered it. A part of him wanted to confront Marcus’s cousin – this was crossing a line of etiquette. But he saw Marcus’s face, red and stressed as he tried to keep up with his cousin’s demands and the growing crowd expecting freebies. Marcus was sweating (and not just from the heat, it seemed). Confrontation might lead to a public shouting match, which could hurt both businesses’ image.

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“Let’s wait,” Noah said, handing a lemonade to one of their remaining customers. “If it gets worse, we’ll speak up. But maybe… just maybe, they’ll overdo it.”He was thinking out loud. Sometimes, an overly aggressive strategy can backfire. Already he noticed some people at Marcus’s stand looking uncomfortable with the pushiness, and the free sample crowd might not actually buy anything once the freebies ran out.Sure enough, Marcus’s stand started hitting snags. With Ben at the helm handing out lots of free samples, they were going through supplies faster than anticipated. Soon, Marcus was frantically squeezing more lemons to keep up, and his stock of clean cups was dwindling. Ben’s promise of “free second cups” had some customers demanding refills that Marcus hadn’t prepared for. A small line of impatient people formed, grumbling about the wait.

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Noah and Immy kept their service steady and friendly. They couldn’t offer free refills for everyone, but they made sure every paying customer got full attention. Noah even placed a big clear jug of water with disposable cups at the front of their stand with a sign: “Thirsty? Have a free water while you wait – stay hydrated!” It wasn’t lemonade, but it was a kind (and inexpensive) gesture that people appreciated under the heat. A few who took water ended up buying lemonade after cooling down and noting the stand’s thoughtfulness.By mid-afternoon, the scene at Marcus’s stand was unravelling a bit. Ben looked annoyed – his expression was that of a boss whose employee wasn’t meeting expectations. Marcus’s face was tight with anxiety and exhaustion as he struggled to serve quickly. In contrast, Mainstreet Society was holding together calmly, with Immy chatting cheerfully to customers and Noah swiftly mixing more lemonade as needed, keeping pace without panic.

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However, the undercurrent of Marcus’s rumour still lurked. At one point a teen girl in Noah’s line asked him point-blank, “So is it true you guys are, like, doing something sketchy with the money? My friend said she heard you’re not legit.” Her tone wasn’t accusatory, more curious. But it made Noah flush with embarrassment and anger anew.Immy immediately jumped in before Noah could respond defensively. With a bright smile, Immy said, “Oh, I’m so glad you asked! There’s nothing sketchy at all – in fact, 10% of our earnings go to the community centre for kids’ art classes. We post the proof of donation at the end of summer on our page. And every ingredient we use is right here in front of you.” She pointed to their clear jars of sugar, the pile of fresh lemons, and the clean water jug. “We’re as open book as it gets. Whoever spread those rumours might be jealous, you know?” she added with a wink.

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The girl seemed satisfied, even a bit embarrassed for asking. She bought two cups and gave a small tip, likely won over by Immy’s earnest explanation.Noah silently thanked Immy for handling it gracefully. It reminded him that transparency and truth could counter lies, but it took patience.As the intense day closed, Marcus looked completely worn out. Ben had left an hour ago in a huff when it became clear things weren’t going as smoothly as he expected. Marcus’s friends were quieter too, some slipping away to actually enjoy the beach rather than hustle lemonade. Marcus was left cleaning up spilled sticky lemonade on his counter, face flushed and eyes hard.

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Noah felt a mix of victory and empathy. Marcus was struggling under the weight of his own aggressive tactics and external pressure. In a strange way, Noah respected that Marcus hadn’t resorted to shouting at him or sabotaging physically – the fight stayed in the realm of business competition and sneaky words. Part of Noah wanted to go over and say something conciliatory like, “Rough day, huh?” but he held back. Marcus didn’t seem in the mood, and any attempt to talk might be misread.Instead, Noah focused on packing up with Immy. As they did, Immy murmured, “I almost feel sorry for him.” “Marcus?” Noah asked, surprised.“Yeah,” she sighed. “I mean, he’s being a jerk, but did you see that cousin of his? Marcus looked terrified of disappointing him.”Noah nodded. “I noticed. It’s like this is more about his cousin’s agenda than Marcus’s.” He remembered how Jules once said Marcus never showed interest in lemonade or any beach business before this summer. It really did seem like Marcus was mostly doing it because of cousin Ben’s push to “dominate the beach scene.”

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“Well,” Noah said as they hauled the cooler together, “tomorrow’s another day. Let’s just keep doing our thing. If we keep our customers happy, maybe we don’t need to worry about him.”Immy smiled. “Agreed. We’ll kill ’em with kindness and consistency.”Noah chuckled at the twist on the phrase. “Kill ’em with kindness” indeed – they would just keep being the good guys, and maybe that would be enough.Neither of them knew that the climax of this rivalry was just around the corner.

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Chapter 7: Showdown at SunsetFriday evening arrived with a vibrant orange sunset casting long shadows on the beach. It had been nearly a week of back-and-forth with Marcus, and everyone could feel that something had to give.The day had been the busiest yet – a combination of the heatwave and the upcoming weekend drew huge crowds. Both stands had lines throughout the day. Noah had drafted his step-sister, Autumn, to help at their stand, which was a lifesaver as they kept up with demand. Marcus, meanwhile, seemed to be running his stand mostly solo now; maybe his friends were tired of the constant work. Ben hadn’t shown up again since Wednesday, but who knew if he’d pop in for the weekend.

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As the sun dipped low, most beach vendors began to pack up. But a lot of people remained to watch the sunset, milling around with cold drinks. Noah noticed Marcus hadn’t closed yet either. There was a sort of charged atmosphere – like even the customers sensed this little lemonade war was coming to a head. A few folks hung around purposely near the stands, chatting and glancing over occasionally.Noah’s stand was finally out of lemonade – they had sold every drop by sundown. A small cheer went up from Immy and Autumn as they tallied the day’s earnings and the amount for charity. Noah laughed, the tension of the week momentarily forgotten in their legitimate success. They did it the right way and it paid off today.

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Marcus, however, still had a few cups left and a couple of customers. By the look on his face, he was determined to not close second. He yelled out, voice cracking slightly, “Last cups of the day! Get ’em while they’re cold!”Noah began wiping down his counter, preparing to fully close. Autumn said her goodbyes and left. It was just Noah and Immy now, under the warm glow of their stand’s lantern. They planned to stick around a bit to enjoy the sunset themselves once done.

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Suddenly, a sharp voice cut through the evening air: “You call that dominating the beach? Huh?” It was Ben – he had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and he was not happy. He marched up to Marcus’s stand, not even caring that a few customers were still there. “I warned you I wanted this spot locked down, Marcus. And now look! You’re practically closing up while they,” he jabbed a finger toward Noah’s stand, “are celebrating!”The remaining customers at Marcus’s quickly backed away, not wanting any part of the brewing conflict. Noah and Immy froze, exchanging worried looks. This was getting personal and public.

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Marcus’s face went pale then red. “Ben, keep it down,” he hissed, clearly embarrassed and nervous. “We had a good day—”But Ben was on a tirade. “Not good enough! I gave you money for flyers, for that fancy banner, and you can’t even outsell a couple of kids with marker posters!” He said it derisively, and Noah felt Immy bristle beside him at the insult.A small crowd was openly watching now. It was like a live drama unfolding on Balmoral Beach. Noah’s stomach knotted – this was ugly, but he also felt a surge of protectiveness. Not for Marcus’s cousin, of course, but for Marcus. No one deserved to be berated publicly like this, especially by someone who wasn’t even doing the work.

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Marcus finally snapped back. “I tried, okay? It’s not as easy as you think! Their lemonade is good, and people like them!” He pointed at Noah and Immy. “They’re not just ‘kids,’ they’re… they’re honest and they work hard and people see that.” The words tumbled out of Marcus in frustration, but hearing them made Noah’s eyes widen. Had Marcus just – intentionally or not – complimented them?

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Ben was not impressed. “Excuses. We had a plan to crush this summer and you’re making me look bad. Why do you think I even bothered with this lemonade thing? We needed a foothold for when we set up the food truck next month! And now the spot’s tainted with this failure.” He threw his hands up angrily.So that was it, Noah realized. The lemonade stand was phase one of some bigger scheme of Ben’s. A food truck, territory domination… this was practically a turf war for him. It made Noah suddenly angry. He stepped forward, unable to hold his tongue any longer.“Hey, back off,” Noah said loudly toward Ben. The older cousin swung around, surprised that Noah had spoken up. All eyes moved to Noah now as he walked a few paces closer. His heart pounded, but he steadied his voice. “Marcus worked really hard this week. We all did. This isn’t some corporate takeover, it’s a beach. There’s room for more than one stand.”Ben sneered, “Stay out of this, kid. This is between me and my cousin.”

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Marcus looked mortified and also something else – was it gratitude? Hard to tell, but he didn’t seem angry at Noah for stepping in.Noah continued, nervous but resolute. “It became everyone’s business when you started yelling. Look, I don’t like what Marcus did to us,” he admitted, facing Marcus briefly. “Spreading rumours, trying to undercut us… it wasn’t cool.” Marcus dropped his gaze, ashamed. “But I can see why he did it. You,” Noah gestured at Ben, “put so much pressure on him that he forgot this could be friendly competition. We could have all made some money selling lemonade in this heat, maybe even helped each other, if you hadn’t turned it into some battle to dominate.”

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A few people clapped quietly at Noah’s words, or murmured in agreement. Ben’s face twisted in irritation. “You don’t know anything. Marcus agreed to this plan. I was trying to help him toughen up and run a real business, not a kiddie stand.” He spat the last part.

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Immy suddenly joined in, stepping to Noah’s side. Her voice was clear and firm. “This ‘kiddie stand’ donated part of its profits to the community and still made good money fair and square. Maybe tough isn’t always the answer. Sometimes a community supports businesses that act like part of the community, not just bullies.”Now more people clapped, and Ben realized he was outnumbered in sentiment. He glared at Marcus. “Unbelievable. You’ve gone soft too, listening to this.”Marcus finally found his voice, shaky but audible. “Ben… just stop. I’m done.”Ben blinked. “What do you mean ‘done’?”

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Marcus took a deep breath. “I mean I’m done. With this.” He gestured at the stand, the banner, the whole thing. “This was never really my dream. It was yours. And I tried to do it for you, I really did. But this is too much.” He swallowed hard, and in the dimming light Noah could swear he saw tears in Marcus’s eyes, though Marcus tried to hide it. “I’m burned out. I haven’t had any fun at all. And I’m sick of being the bad guy, because… that’s not me.” His voice cracked.There was a silence, filled only by the gentle crash of waves and distant gulls. Ben looked at Marcus with a mix of anger and disbelief, then scoffed. “Fine. Quit, then. Go be a loser.” With that harsh send-off, Ben stomped away, pulling out his phone – probably already looking for another scheme.Marcus stood there, deflated. The onlookers awkwardly dispersed now that the drama was over. Noah felt a swirl of emotions – relief that the confrontation was done, shock at how it played out, and an unexpected respect for Marcus for standing up to his cousin.Immy lightly touched Noah’s arm. “We should probably…” she nodded toward Marcus.

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Noah agreed. He walked carefully over to Marcus, who was now numbly taking down his banner. The older boy noticed Noah and sighed. “If you’re here to gloat, please don’t. I know I messed up.”Noah shook his head. “I’m not here to gloat. I just… wanted to say, if you need help packing, we can help.” He gestured to the half-taken-down stand. Marcus’s eyes widened in surprise at the offer.Immy stepped up next to Noah. “Honestly, Marcus, we never wanted things to get so nasty. We were upset, yeah, but it didn’t have to be war.” She gave him a small smile. “Your lemonade is actually pretty good.”Marcus managed a weak laugh at that. “Thanks. Yours too. I tasted it, you know, before I started all this. It was excellent. I knew I had to pull out all the stops to compete… and then some.”He looked down, voice heavy with regret. “I’m sorry I spread those lies. It was a cheap move. You guys didn’t deserve that.”

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Noah nodded, accepting the apology. “Thanks. And I’m sorry you had to go through all this. Your cousin… he’s intense.”Marcus rolled his eyes, wiping the corner of his eye quickly. “Tell me about it. He thought a lemonade stand would be an easy way to make quick cash and build hype for some food truck he wants me to run with him. I never even wanted to run a food truck!”

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Immy started helping untie the bunting and pack Marcus’s remaining cups. “What do you want to do? Like, if not this?”Marcus shrugged, looking a bit lost. “I don’t know. I’m into graphic design, actually. I made that banner myself – that part I enjoyed.” He chuckled. “Maybe I should stick to design and leave the selling to people who like it.”Noah smiled. “Hey, the banner was really cool. If we ever need a logo for Mainstreet Society, maybe we could hire you.”Marcus looked up, surprised by the genuine offer. He smiled for real this time, a little of the older-boy swagger gone, replaced with a normal teen who was kind of grateful. “I… yeah. I’d like that.”

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With the three of them working, Marcus’s stand was packed up quickly. The beach was nearly empty now, the sky a deep purple. Marcus had a small cart to carry his stuff. As he turned to go, he hesitated. “Noah, Immy… good luck with Mainstreet Society. Really. And if Jules comes back – I heard he was away? – tell him I said hi. I know him from soccer.”“Sure,” Noah said. “Take care, Marcus.”Marcus walked off pushing his cart. It was not a victory parade; rather, it looked like a weary retreat. But Noah sensed that despite his exhaustion and disappointment, Marcus was also a bit relieved. The pressure was over.

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Noah and Immy stood together for a moment, watching him disappear down The Esplanade. “Well,” Immy sighed, “that was something.”Noah exhaled deeply. “No kidding. I feel… I don’t know what I feel. Is it bad that I’m kind of glad he’s gone, but also sad about how it ended?”Immy shook her head. “Not bad at all. I feel the same. We got our win, I guess, but it doesn’t feel like the flashy victory one might imagine. It’s just… life.”They quietly finished packing their own stand in the dark, then headed home.

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Chapter 8: The AftermathThe next day, Noah found himself back at the beach – a Saturday – running the stand with Immy, but this time with no Marcus in sight. Customers trickled in steadily. Some had heard the blow-up the night before and offered sympathetic clucks or curious questions. Noah kept details light, simply saying Marcus had decided to pursue other things and that competition is over.

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Jules returned from Jervis Bay on Sunday, bursting with stories of his holiday. When Noah and Immy filled him in on the events he’d missed, Jules was astonished. “I leave you guys alone for one week and you start a lemonade civil war!” he joked. Then he added, “Proud of how you handled it, though. Sounds like you stayed true to Mainstreet Society’s spirit.”Noah grinned. Hearing that from Jules – who had been there from the start – felt really good. “It was tough, but yeah, we didn’t compromise our values,” Noah said. “And in the end, honesty did pay off. Not in a dramatic movie way, but in a quiet, steady way.”Business slowly returned to normal patterns, perhaps even a bit better thanks to the publicity of the rivalry. Yet Noah had changed in those intense days. He felt more mature, having navigated not just business competition but also moral choices and family complexities.

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Speaking of family, one sunny afternoon the following week, Noah got a wonderful surprise. Both his mum and dad showed up at the lemonade stand together. It was a bit awkward at first – they stood side by side, each holding a cup of Noah’s lemonade, exchanging small talk about the weather. But they were there, united in pride for their son. Immy and Jules watched in delight as Noah’s face lit up seeing his parents actually supporting him as a team, however temporarily.After closing, Noah’s parents approached him. Mum spoke first, “We wanted to say how impressed we are with you, Noah. Handling all that… drama, and still doing the right thing.” Dad nodded. “We’re proud of how you stuck to your principles. You’re a real entrepreneur with ethics.”Noah felt his cheeks flush, not used to such joint praise. “Thanks, Mum and Dad. It means a lot that you both came.” He hoped they knew he meant not just coming to the stand, but coming together despite their history.

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They seemed to understand. Mum put an arm around Noah and Dad patted his back. For a brief moment, Noah felt the warmth of what it was like to have both parents by his side, supporting him in unison. It was perhaps the sweetest reward of all from this turbulent summer.As the season rolled on, Marcus was true to his word about stepping back. There was a rumour he picked up a part-time internship at a local print shop to hone his graphic design skills. Noah hoped that worked out for him. They weren’t exactly friends, but there was a respectful peace between them now. Marcus even sent Noah a draft of a potential Mainstreet Society logo via email one day – an unexpected olive branch that made Noah, Immy, and Jules laugh in joy and approve enthusiastically. The logo featured cheerful lemons around the words Mainstreet Society, playful yet professional. It seemed a fitting symbol of how things had evolved.

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By summer’s end, Mainstreet Society had not only survived the copycat season but grown from it. Noah learned that competition can test you in hard ways, but integrity is a long game that often wins out. Immy saw that staying united as friends was their strength – even if they disagreed at first, working together brought the best solutions. Jules, hearing it all after the fact, realized how much he missed and valued being part of the team’s journey. And Marcus discovered his own limits and passions beyond someone else’s expectations.

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On the final day of summer break, Noah wrote a few reflections in the ledger notebook where they tracked sales and notes. He jotted down a simple lesson he wanted to remember when challenges arose again: Honesty might not bring instant success, but it builds something better – trust. And with trust, even a small lemonade stand can withstand the fiercest competition.He closed the notebook with a content smile. Copycat season was over, and Mainstreet Society stood strong, ready for whatever came next – together.