Author's Note:

Gah! I've been scolded! Oh noes! It seems as though Cary44 has put me in my place, and called me out on my naughtiness. She's right, and I am a naughty noodle and I deserve to be kicked out of the pot. I've got to be careful when posting my story. My dad gets home early--he's due anytime now--and he HATES Twilight. He's super duper totally religious and thinks it's anti-Christian. Pft. I know. That's what I said. So, being even naughtier, I've read the whole series and own them, hiding them a place so secret I can't even remember where I put them. Genius, no? So, for you, I'm being extra sneaky and posting this chapter. ;)

Yodes, you are right. Cassie is manic. At first, she was supposed to be shy, but I have a tendency to write my chapters at night, and well, after dark, I tend to get a little....out of control. Thanks for reviewing, and I can't wait to hear from you in the future. As for the rest of you guys who reviewed the fifth chapter in the little time I've had it posted [Six reviews! BOOYAH!], thank you SO VERY MUCH. I thought it would get, like, only one review.

So, this is my SECOND favorite chapter so far, and the next is my favorite. So, tally ho!

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Twilight, only the books. And if my dad ever found out, I would be duly disowned and become a hobo. So, if you ever see me on the streets taking bread crumbs from pigeons, you know what happened.

Oh! P.S. : Time skip. Her opinion has changed of Paul---at least for the beginning. She'll warm up, though. So, don't be surprised if you feel like she is having mood-swings. She is manic. [Thank you, Yodes, for that wonderful word! I love it! Manicmanicmanicmanicmanic....] ;]

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The Grocery Store and Twenty Questions

I was a nervous wreck. My hands shook every time I heard the phone, and it was all because of that stupid idiot Paul. It's been three weeks since the 'peace offering', and weird things keep happening. First, I keep seeing Paul everywhere, even when he's not even there. Just this morning, I looked out my window, and he was in the woods. But once I blinked, he was gone.

Second, Embry and the guys keep goading, pressuring, for me to get to know Paul, and if that wasn't bad enough, he was talking about me. Not bad, like I had suspected, but good things. Like, for instance, what a great cook I was. And—this one made me flush scarlet from embarrassment—how I was a fast runner. Seth loved that one.

And, lastly, the phone kept ringing. Consistently. We had about thirty calls a day, yet when we picked up, no one was there. The caller would hang up right when we answered, and we would sit there waiting for the inevitable dial tone.

"If I ever find out who keeps calling, I'll castrate him," Allison slammed down the phone in irritation. "Seriously. What's his deal?" Embry wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her hair gently.

"Maybe he's just shy," Quil said, winking slyly at me. I scowled at him, bringing the knife down harder than intended onto the apple I was chopping up. I knew what—or, rather, who—he was implying, and I really felt like throwing the knife at him.

Paul, shy? No, definitely not so.

"Cassie," Seth called lazily from the living room. "Do you want to come to a bonfire tonight? Emily will be there."

"No!" I yelled back at him. I knew who else would be there. I heard Seth grunt something low and unintelligible, and Jake snickered.

"Hey, Cass. Can I borrow twenty bucks? I want to go to the movies." Allison said, hunting around for the car keys. Before I could respond, Embry cut in.

"Ally, I've got enough for two of us, so why don't we go together?" Smooth. Then, a sight my eyes beheld that was so shocking, and so rare: Al blushed. The girl, who was the self-proclaimed America's Next Top Cougar, was falling for a guy!

Allison smiled, the blush still apparent on her cheeks. "Uh, yeah. Sure. Let me just grab my purse."

After she left, Quil high-fived Embry. "Way to go, man! But tonight, you should really stick it to her!" The knife came down and the sharp edge stuck in the board.

"Stick what to her exactly?" I snarled, trying my best to loosen the knife from the wood. Embry's face colored—quite a feat with his dark russet skin—and Jake hooted with laughter. "Yeah, what are you two conspiring?" he teased.

With a hard tug, the board released the knife, and I waved it threateningly at Embry. "Try anything," I spat through gritted teeth. "And I will castrate you with this knife." It came down with a loud thunk onto the apple, and I pursed my lips in satisfaction when Embry flinched.

"Okay, Embry! Let's get going—hey, what's wrong?" Allison asked, eyeing me suspiciously. I smiled innocently at her, shrugging my shoulders.

"Cassie here was about to go mafia on Embry, is all." Jake snickered, and I stuck my tongue out at him. Al thumped me on the back of my head, and I mock-scowled at her. "Hey, watch who you're thumping, especially when they hold a knife." I heard a low rumble come from Embry's chest from behind, but I ignored him.

Ally giggled, ruffling my hair gently. "Love you, too. We'll try not to be late."

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The guys and I hung around in the living room. Quil snagged an apple slice from my bowl, and I kicked his shin. "Quit stealing my food."

"But I'm hungry!"

"Well, go to your own house and eat there."

"But I can't cook, and fruit isn't gonna hold me over!" Quil whined, wrapping a large, sweltering arm around me.

Jake's stomach grumbled loudly. "Ugh, I haven't eaten in awhile. Hey, Cass? Can you fix up some food for us?"

I stared at him incredulously. "Do I look like your damn maid?"

Seth eyed me with a critical look. "Well, with the dark colored clothes and your hair up like that…." I smacked his arm, and he chuckled good-naturedly. Quil's stomach rumbled like thunder.

"Can you—"

"No."

Seth's stomach growled loudly, and he groaned. "Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Hell no."

"Are you sure?"

"Uh, yeah." It was silent for a moment as I flipped channels.

"…Please?"

I threw the remote at his head, disappointed that he caught it skillfully before it crashed into his forehead. "Fine," I said, ignoring the hysterical cheers from the guys. "But I get to choose what we eat an—"

"Oh, and whatever you get, get a lot of it." Seth said, clicking away on the remote. I threw an over-stuffed pillow at his head.

"Like I said," I seethed. "I'm not paying for it." There were groans, which I ignored as I held my hand out, grabbing the cash from their reluctant hands.

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Rain pelted the windshield as I drove the car through the small reservation. The sky was blocked by huge, puffy dismal clouds that were swollen with water to the point it looked like they would combust. I scowled as I pulled into a small grocery store, the parking lot nearly empty except for a few cars.

When I got in, I was drenched; my clothes soaked through and sticking to me like a second skin. My teeth chattered as I grabbed various ingredients for lasagna that were scattered aimlessly around the store.

The shelves were really tall, and I was lucky that most of them had been located on the bottom or mid-shelves, but the last ingredient I really need was located on the very top shelf, a place I couldn't reach no matter how much I stretched. I stood on my tiptoes, trying in vain to reach the top. Right when I got close—well, as close as I would ever get—a russet arm reached out and grabbed at it with ease.

"Need this?" Paul asked, handing me olive oil. I scowled at him, snatching the bottle from him. "Thanks." I grumbled. I turned on heel and hastily made my way to the line at the cash register. Don't follow me…don't follow me…

"Do you need help paying?" Damn! I turned to glare at Paul.

"No, I've got it." I shifted the items in my arms so that I had better hold on them. Paul sighed, saying something under his breath I couldn't quite catch, and grabbed some from me. I stomped his foot, but he wasn't fazed.

"Quit being stubborn." Paul said, glaring at me exasperatedly. I stuck my tongue out at him, then smiling in relief when it was our turn to check out.

"Good evening," the boy said, ringing up some items. "I hope you are having a good day today?" I smiled at him, and made small conversation with him. He really was quite cute, with dark hair that had a slight wave to it and dimples when he smiled at me.

He bagged the ingredients—sending a smile at me again—and handed them to me. "Hope to see you again."

I said bye to him and walked off to the exit. I turned to hand some bags over to Paul, but then I saw his figure quaking, his fists balled at his sides. His face was pulled down in a fierce scowl, and his dark eyes kept darting back to where the boy was checking out more items from an elderly couple.

"Paul?" I asked, nudging him with an elbow. "You okay?" A muscle in Paul's cheek twitched, and his eyes glittered dangerously. I sat the bags on the floor and put a hand on top of his fisted hand. The reaction was instant; his muscles loosened, and the severe look disappeared from his eyes. His hand linked with mine, squeezing gently.

"Yeah, I just don't like how he was looking at you." Paul replied honestly. An unknown emotion swept through me and stuck in my belly, a warm and odd feeling making me tingle and blood rush to my cheeks.

I snatched my hand away from his, pretending I didn't notice the hurt flash in his eyes, and pretended that I didn't feel guilty. Not even a little. "Could you carry a few of these for me, please?"

Paul helped me, and even helped loading them into the trunk. "So," I said, trying to start a conversation. "Where's your truck?"

"Back at the house." Paul said stonily, pushing down the trunk door.

"What? So you walked here?" I asked, disbelief coloring my tone. Paul scowled at me, nodding his head rigidly. My eyebrows pushed together, and I bit my lip nervously. I hated it when people were angry with me.

Paul turned to walk towards the road, nearly there when I called out to him. "Hey, Paul! Do you want to come over and eat with the guys?"

He turned around to eye me critically. I rushed to explain. "I mean, it's the least I could do for you helping me out and all." Paul snorted, and I could feel myself blush. I looked down, nudging some loose gravel with the toe of my shoe.

I felt something hot grab my hand, and I looked to see Paul looming above me, a soft smile on his face. "Yeah, that would be nice," he dropped my hand, and headed over to the driver's side. "But only if I get to drive."

I wrinkled my nose slightly, but I tossed him the keys. Paul deftly caught them mid-air, and lowered himself into the car. I walked to the passenger's side and hopped into the seat.

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"Lets play twenty questions." I said, breaking the silence. Paul raised an eyebrow, but nodded his head in agreement.

"Okay I'll start." I said when Paul groaned in protest.

"Why do you get to start?" he asked, a small pout on his face. I chuckled, shaking my head at him. "Because I thought of it first, and I'm curious about a couple of things."

Paul tensed, and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Like what?"

"Like, what's your favorite color?" I asked. Paul scoffed, and raised an eyebrow at me. "Is that it? No hard questions or third degree?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Those come later; right now, I'm trying to make you comfortable and ease you into the game. Now, quit changing the subject and answer the damned question."

His response was immediate. "Gray."

I scoffed, disbelieving. "Gray? Are kidding me? That has to be the most awful color you could even like."

Paul growled. "What's wrong with gray?"

"Oh, nothing's wrong with gray, except that it's boring and dull, and only used to describe things filled with gloom and doom."

"…. Now you're just being dramatic."

"Whatever. It's my turn to ask a question." I said.

"What! It's my turn to ask a question!" Paul protested loudly. I resisted the urge to cover my ears.

"No, Paul, you already asked your question. And I quote, 'What's wrong with gray?', end quote." I informed him. He grumbled something, but otherwise he let it go.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-six. You?"

"Eighteen."

Paul smirked. "Barely legal." I stuck my tongue out at him, and he chuckled. And so the game went until he pulled up to the house.

"How do you know where I live?" I asked, confused.

Paul smiled sheepishly at me. "The guys kind of told me awhile back."

I frowned, but let it go. Come to think of it, they probably even told him I'd be at the grocery store, too. I popped the trunk and started to grab groceries. I just hoped that the guys didn't do anything stupid when I was gone.

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END CHAPTER

So, how did you guys like it? And did the guys do something exceptionally naughty while Cassie was gone? You bet your ass they did. But...what? Ponder on this, readers, while I go crazy and write some more chapters. Drama will be coming soon, just to add some spice.

I know someones going to ask why Cassie didn't ask Paul some vital questions such as : Was he the one calling/hanging up?, et cetera. But, like Cassie said earlier, she's trying to ease him into the game. There will be more of the game 'Twenty Questions'.

So, if you love me and this story, please press that lovely green and gray button below and review. Come on, it won't bite...hard.