Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. It's all Stephenie Meyer's. And the grocery store belongs to Pick N' Save.

Yeah, you, Pick N' Save, this is my revenge for that time last summer when you didn't have Sun In, so we had to use Lemon Juice, which did NOT work.

I blame you, Pick N' Save.

I. Blame. You.

=C

Why, oh why, oh why? Why did Alice have to drag Mom shopping today?

Sorry, Dad, but you have to admit, now that Jasper left-

"I know." He looked at the labyrinth of shelves awaiting us begrudgingly.

"Know what?" Jacob was angry. I could tell.

"This was a bad idea, " I told him.

"No, it wasn't. I was starving, and we have no food. We never have any food."

"Well," the word squeezed itself out of my throat as I pushed the metal cart forwards. I didn't really want to say this, but what else was there to be said? I couldn't let this happen again! This was torture to me!

"You could have just hunted."

Thank you, Dad, thank you, thank you.

"Awww, come on, now! That's not nearly as good-" Jacob snatched a putrid-smelling cellophane bag off the shelf, which crackled noisily in response. "- as Cheetos!"

I shuddered away from it. Ew.

"Ah, fine, I'll put it back."

"No, no, take your darn Cheetos. Just eat them far away from me."

Jake smiled and leaned down so that his face was even with mine-

"Okay! What next?" Dad forcefully jerked the cart from my hands. "Ooh, how 'bout some of this lovely... stuff? A vile smelling cardboard box made a sound not unlike a pair of maracas being shook as it crashed into the metal grid.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. How... stupid.

Jacob smiled again, and settled for holding my hand. My arm started to tingle pleasantly, and I smiled back.

A few feet ahead, Dad pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows, staring distractedly at the shelves. He deftly plucked boxes from them, throwing the cardboard containers into the cart so that they landed with a loud THUMP on top of one another.

"Hold it, hold it! You're gonna break all the chips!" Jacob let go of my hand and ran forward to stop the bag of - I tilted my head to read it - Fritos from being massacred by the heavy box of glazed donuts.

I wondered why glazed donuts and chips would be next to each other. I'm no expert on food, but donuts and chips? One's soft and sugary, and the other's hard and crunchy.

Then I noticed a few cans of soup lined up like a battalion of soldiers... in the junk food aisle. Looking further, I saw more discrepancies. A loaf of bread situated next to some of Jacob's Cheetos. A row of Kleenex boxes. And cream cheese and raw meat, which I'm pretty sure was supposed to be refrigerated.

Dad stopped scooping boxes from the shelves, which made Jacob stop catching them before they hit his precious Cheetos.

"Yeah, they are," Dad said, furrowing his brow.

Jacob let out an angered sigh that sounded a heck of a lot like a growl. "What are?!?"

In answer, Dad pointed to the meat with one hand, using his other to gesture towards the cream cheese.

At first, Jacob's jaw dropped in shock, but a couple seconds later his body was convulsing with laughter. "This whole thing was organized by a schizo!" In between chuckles. "What do we have in the cart?"

I looked, digging around a little with my hands. Chip bags, cereal boxes, soup cans, Q-tips, Pop-Tarts, and bottled water.

I started laughing, too.