Played.

7: "Who Was He?"

I looked up, my eyes falling upon the hooded figure who stood at the door.

He was dressed in a pair of sagging, black leather pants, a long, white tank top and an unzipped black hoodie, with the hood hoisted up over his head.

Much like Marcus, he had tan skin and bright brown eyes, but his eyes were more of a hazel color. His hair, which was being crushed under the hood, was a light shade of brown and was pushed back into a quiff style that peaked out of the hood.

He was a bit taller than Marcus, probably around 5'7, and also looked similar to Marcus. Marcus was very good looking, but this stranger's face was something more like that of a model's. He was attractive, I'm not going to deny it, and he had a kind of edge to him, which I liked, like he was in a gang of some sorts.

He stepped in, pulling the hood down, exposing his shiny hair, the type you just want to run your fingers through. "Marcus, mom wants to know if she's staying for dinner?" He jerked his thumb at me.

Did he just refer to me as "she"? Was he not raised with manners? I could tell he was the complete opposite of Marcus, not just appearance wise but personality wise too.

"I don't know. Maddison, do you want to stay for dinner?" Marcus asked politely, turning to face me.

"Um..."

"My mom's an amazing cook. Come on, you have to stay." Marcus encouraged.

"Sure. I guess I could." The words involuntarily made their way out of my mouth. Shit.

"Great." Came a mumble from behind the door. I spun my head to see the boy rolling his eyes. I could sense the sarcasm in his voice. "Whatever. Be down by six." With that he left the room, gently shutting the door behind him.

The was a moment of silence between Marcus and I.

"Who was he?" I cocked my head to the side, pointing toward the door.

"That was my brother, Justin. You know, the one I was telling you about before?"

"The surfer one?"

"Yeah, that's the one." Marcus nodded, with a smile.

"He's...not what I expected."

"How so?"

"He's a lot more, um -." I stopped, thinking about how to phrase it nicely. "He's not like you at all."

"Yeah, everyone says that. We're complete opposites, but I guess that's why we get on so well."

"You get on 'well' with him? Wow." I mumbled, spinning my head to the side, away from Marcus, so he didn't hear.

"What was that?"

"Hmm?" I twisted my head back in his direction.

"Did you say something?"

"Nope."

"Oh, I thought you did." He paused. "Anyway, we better finish up, then we can head down for dinner."

Marcus adjusted the books on his lap, continuing where we left off.