Thanks for your review, TheOnyxDragon12! ;-) Your reviews are always hilarious to read.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Ultimate Spider-Man. :,(

Chapter 2: Monday

Ava groaned to herself as she walked downstairs. She may have thought school was important, but that didn't mean that she had to like Monday mornings. Worse, it was her turn to cook for the team and Mrs. Parker.

Ava didn't have a clue what to make for breakfast. "Toast?" she wondered aloud.

"Nah, too simple. Try cinnamon toast with some fruit," Sam smugly suggested, rocking his chair back and forth from his position at the table. Ava shot him an angry look, then realized that she did not have any better ideas, and, grumbling, jammed two slices of bread into the toaster.

This is going to take forever if I have to make two pieces of toast per person. Hmph, well, then, I'll just make everyone one slice. I'm not wasting my entire morning cooking when I have a math test to study for! She thought. Now where's the stupid cinnamon?

Typically, none of the spices were labeled. In the end, Ava grabbed a container with a faded 'c' on it, filled with reddish-brown powder, and decided that this must be cinnamon. After all, cinnamon was unmistakable, right? Now she just needed sugar. Pausing to slip more bread into the toaster, Ava searched the cupboards for white sugar. There was an enormous bucketful, but she hoped there was a smaller container that Mrs. Parker used for tea or something.

Well, there were two salt shakers. Ava realized that one of them probably held salt, and the other sugar. It wouldn't make sense to have two salt shakers, anyways. After tasting the first one and determining that it was salt, she snatched the other one from its place on the shelf, inferring that this would be the sugar.

Carefully, Ava tried to dust cinnamon onto the slices of bread. It didn't work very well, just gathering in a lump on the middle of the slice of toast. Then she tapped sugar on top of the cinnamon, figuring that this would work.

Oh, fruit! Ava remembered. A slice of toast wasn't likely to satisfy these boys- they were practically bottomless pits. Hurrying, Ava snatched up a bagful of apples, and washed them, putting one apple on each plate. There, she thought, good enough, as the boys stampeded down the stairs, laughing and shoving each other.

Rolling her eyes, Ava slammed a plate down at each place on the table. "Where the milk?" Sam whined, laughing at Ava's worried face.

"Oh, shut up!" she snapped back, a blush creeping onto her cheeks as she distributed glasses and filled a pitcher with water, sliding into her seat.

Peter examined his slice of cinnamon toast with uncertainty. "Uh… Ava?" She growled at him before he could finish, and Peter quickly began nibbling at his fruit.

Danny hesitated for the smallest moment, then took a long sip of water and politely asked, "What is this… delicacy, my friend?"

"Uh… cinnamon toast, duh, Danny," Ava said, ignoring Sam's smug expression.

At last, Luke shrugged and took an enormous bite of toast. Immediately, his expression turned from one of uncertainty to absolute disgust. He stood up, then dumped his food in the trash. "Later, Ava."

Sam looked uncertainly at his plate, then noticed the look on Ava's face, and hastily tried some of the crust. "Yu- Yuck!" he cried, spitting the half-chewed food back onto his plate. Shrugging apologetically, Danny nibbled part of his toast, wincing at the combination of bitterness and saltiness.

"Ah… perhaps I could see your… ingredients?"

Ava glared at him, then passed him the container of sugar and cinnamon.

"You put… cumin and salt on our toast?"

"Yeah, well, you try making breakfast then!" She stormed out of the room.

Sam whispered to Mrs. Parker as Ava left, "You might want to make your own meal."

Needless to say, Ava was not very happy the remainder of the day. That evening, when Sam asked her what they were eating, she snarled, "PB&J's."

Furious with herself, Ava simply set out a jar of peanut butter and jelly, as well as a loaf of bread, for people to make their own sandwiches with. Nobody dared to complain, seeing the expression on Ava's face, and everybody left her alone for the rest of the evening.

"I hate cooking," she muttered to herself.