Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I own some very strange word association, pencil-buns, Vans poetry, and a bunch of yeahs.

Prereaders: _ss77_, LuvinJ Betas: Perrymaxed, Mac214

Playlist: I'm Yours by Jason Mraz

Chapter 4: The Day Masen Makes PB&J

With the decreasing temperature and my rising obsession with Masen, I'm starting to like Arizona. The cool November air is nice on my face as I drive home from grocery shopping with the windows down. I make a left hand turn onto Brooks, Masen's street. I've taken to driving this road as often as possible on my way to and from—well, anywhere—hoping to catch a glimpse of my favorite redhead. So far, no luck. I tap my lips in disappointment when I hear the distinct sound of small wheels flying over sidewalk cracks. I'd know those sounds anywhere.

I stop at the end of the street and look both ways before turning, and then I see him; he's halfway down the block, skating like his life is at stake. I pull up beside him and honk, waving to get his attention. He comes to a stop just as do I. I have no idea what to say when he gets to my window. He's breathing hard and looks striking all worked up like this. Wow!

"Hey," he says, and I think it's the first time he's ever addressed me first.

"You were going awfully fast. You'll get a ticket." He gives my lame joke a courtesy smile. "Seriously, you late? You need a ride somewhere?"

"Nah, just needed to get away." He averts his eyes and peers over his shoulder. I look too, though I have no idea what we're looking for.

"I just bought some groceries . . ." Great. Like he cares. What other stupid thing can I say?

"Apples?" He props his arm up on the window ledge, resting his chin on his hand. He's smirking. Okay, maybe it wasn't so stupid after all.

"Yeah."

"All right." He shrugs, and there's a faint click of the lock being released. The next thing I know Masen's climbing into my car, and we're driving to my unsupervised home.

-MD-

Masen props his skateboard next to the front door before helping me carry the groceries inside. He quietly unloads the bags with me. We communicate through various humming sounds, pointing, and an occasional, "Where to?"

With the groceries stowed away, there's nothing to do. This is about to get really awkward, especially since Masen's not much of a conversationalist.

"Bathroom?" he asks, and I point it out, glad to have a minute to make a plan while he's gone.

My generic idea involves food. Everyone likes to eat, right?

When he returns, I cut up an apple to share, and he smiles when I hand him the first slice. We sit at the island, and I've never heard myself crunch so loud. It's embarrassing. I have to do something about the heinous noise I'm making, so I speak.

"My mom always used to slice my apples when I was in elementary school. She always gave me a container of peanut butter too. Ooh, that sounds good. Peanut butter?"

"Jelly?" he asks, pointing to the cupboard where he stored it.

"Yeah."

Before I can get up, he hops off his stool, pulls peanut butter and jelly from the cupboard, and scrounges around for a knife. I really like having him in my home, regardless of the bit of awkwardness we've had.

He points to a loaf of honey oat bread, and I nod, encouraging him. He surprises me by popping two slices in the toaster. Well, that's different. He smears one side with strawberry preserves and the other with peanut butter. He slices it into neat rectangles and slides it over to me.

With his forearms braced on the island and his gaze set on me, he says, "Try it. My specialty."

I squint my eyes as though this is serious business and take a bite, and, oh my stars, it's good. The peanut butter has melted, spilling out the sides and smearing over my lips as I eat. I lick it away.

He grins, looking so proud. "Good, right?"

I take a massive bite and speak with my mouth full: "Iffs deliffuffs!"

He laughs, and his eyes soften. I didn't realize until just then where he carries his sorrow or whatever it is; it's all in his sea green eyes.

I share my sandwich and apple with him, and we eat in silence. This time it's okay. The loud chewing becomes our entertainment as well as my moaning over the tasty treat he made. PB and J's are definitely a new favorite.

We're cleaning up our small mess when the garage door growls. Masen's eyes dart toward the kitchen door, which leads to the garage, then back to me. He's panicked, I think.

"It's just my dad," I offer to ease his anxiety, but that seems to make it worse.

"I'm gonna go. See ya at school," he says and bolts for the front door, closing it without making a single noise. I hear the telltale sounds of the wheels clicking on the cracks of the pavement almost immediately.

Dad plops his keys, wallet, and mail on the counter I just cleaned—well, we just cleaned. I miss Masen already. I wish he hadn't taken off. I would've liked to have introduced him to my father.

"Hey, kiddo. Whose skateboard?" Dad asks, already with the questions.

"A friend's."

"A boy friend?"

"No, not a boy, many boys. It's orgy Thurs-dee, duh."

Dad smacks my head with some junk mail. I flinch and feign a most grave injury.

"Oh, please," he scoffs.

"Exactly."

"I just want to make sure you're safe when you're here all alone. You're alone too much.

"I wasn't today. Besides, I have condoms. Mom gave me lots and lots of condoms."

"Are you trying to give your old man a heart attack?"

"Relax, Dad. We ate apple slices and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I saw more action when I was three and little Fat Franky wanted to play doctor."

"I knew that kid had a crush on you."

This is ridiculous. Dad gets my stink eye before I call it a night and retreat to my room.

A/N: Masen Days Extras are available on my blog: purelyamuse dot blogspot dot com. Teasers, visuals, and peeks into Masen's notebook will be posted weekly (Wednesdays) as a follow-up or sneak peek of a chapter. You can sign up for email updates or follow the blog. Enjoy!

My team remains ridiculously cool. I wrote about them on my blog if you're interested. I've also begun writing outtakes (I blame Perrymaxed), so if there's anything you're dying for, please share.

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I truly appreciate every review, alert, favorite, and Twitter follow. I'm starting to recognize regulars and am getting to know some Edward girls. Thanks for making this so fun!