The Hooded Figure

ELEVEN

The more research I did on this Alexander Marauder guy, the more interested I got. He'd run away during the peak of his budding career. He'd only been recording music for about two years, but several websites told me that he'd always had a passion for it. He'd acted as a guest star on several children's TV shows and as I watched a few interviews between him and some reporters, only to find that he seemed to be somewhat rude.

"Alexander, how do you feel about your new release? Is it doing as well as you hoped it would?" One of the reporters asked. Everyone was buzzing around him, alive with camera flashes and questions. Alexander seemed to hear this question over the rest and paused in the crowd. He turned to face her with a sarcastic smile on his face.

"It seems to be up my ass and that's good enough for me," he replied before turning on his heel to continue walking. The camera recording had turned onto the reporter who gave the cameraman a sign to cut the footage with a dejected look on her face, but in the corner of the screen, I noticed Alexander's dad place a firm hand on his shoulder and Alexander's entire body seemed to tense up. I frowned at the screen and squinted, wondering what that meant. His dad didn't seem all that nice on TV, that only makes me wonder what he's like when the cameras aren't rolling.

I turned off my phone, feeling like I'd done enough snooping. I went downstairs to find my dad, but the TV was off and there was another sticky note on the counter. I sighed, already knowing what it said. Ever since my mom started taking extra shifts at the hospital, my dad's been taking extra trips to the pub. Buy yourself some pizza, kiddo.

I crumpled the small paper and threw it into the garbage disappointedly. There was a twenty dollar bill beside the paper and I left it there as I grabbed the home phone. I returned to the kitchen with the phone in hand and checked the fridge. I found the phone number to Marco's Pizza and dialled it.

"Hello, this is Marco's Pizza, what can we get for you?" A man with a thick Italian accent asked.

"Hi, can I get one medium cheese pizza please?" I inquired politely, leaning against the counter. I also gave him my address so that he'd know where to go.

"Of course, anything else?" He questioned over the phone. I could hear music in the background, probably the ambiance at the restaurant.

I was about to say no, but then an idea popped into my head. "Are you guys hiring?"

The man seemed to pause before replying, "As a matter of fact, yes."

"Do you think I could apply?" I continued, deciding that I needed to spend less of my time at home. I also needed to save for university which was in four months, but my mom could cover most of it.

"Are you over 16?"

"Yes," I replied, crossing my fingers hopefully.

"Perfetta, can you come by tomorrow at 5:30PM?"

"I'll be there," I said with an excited smile on my face.

"Great, that'll be 14.00$, thank you for calling Marco's Pizza." With that, he hung up. I ran upstairs and stuck my arm under my bed, feeling around for a specific paper. When my fingers brushed the only paper under there, I pulled it out and smiled joyfully. I blew off the dust and read over the resume, a grimace growing over my face as I did. There was basically nothing on this sheet of paper that made me seem like a good employee.

I sighed, deciding that I'd rewrite it tomorrow at lunch and print it in the computer lab. I returned downstairs and turned on the TV, waiting for the pizza guy to arrive.

I found myself surfing the channels for any more information on Alexander Marauder, but there didn't seem to be any. I was oddly disappointed, but I brushed it off as the doorbell rang. I sprung off the couch and opened the door, smiling. I froze as my green eyes met a pair of amber ones. The tanned boy in front of me took my breath away. He held the pizza I ordered in one hand while tucking the other in his dark jeans.

"Medium cheese pizza?" He inquired, looking down at me with his eyebrows raised. I blinked and leaned back a little bit.

"Uh, yes, yes, of course," I replied, grinning awkwardly. "I'll grab the money, you can come in for a moment if you want." As I turned around, I shut my eyes in disbelief while I headed to the kitchen to get the money. Was I not supposed to invite the hot pizza guy in? Is that not what people do?

I decided that overthinking it wouldn't help anybody as I returned to the boy with a twenty in my hand. "Here," I said as I handed him the money. He took his hand out of his pocket to take it and he gave me the pizza. I noticed he was wearing a small black apron around his waist and there was a splash of tomato sauce on his white shirt. There was also a pinch of flour on his cheek, but I decided not to point it out.

"Thanks," I smiled warmly. I noticed he hadn't come into my house, he'd just waited outside patiently. I guess people don't invite the pizza guys into their houses.

"No problem," he replied, his voice smooth like butter. Did you really just compare his voice to butter?

As opposed to what, chocolate?

He ran a tan hand through his curly brown hair as he handed me my change from his apron. Then, he turned around and walked to the little red fiat that was parked along the side of the road. As I shut the door, I squealed and held my pizza tightly as I sprinted up the stairs excitedly. I jumped onto my bed and put the pizza aside, desperate to text Jade and Layla about the hot delivery boy. There's nothing better than telling your best friends about a dreamy guy you met.