Raa glanced nervously in the rearview, checking the artful mess he'd styled his hair into for the tenth time since turning down the dirt road leading to Marcus' house. He was glad to meet some of Marcus' family. He really was. Honest. Now if could just get his nerves to believe that, he would be fine. After all, it was only an aunt and uncle, and by now Raa was sure that Marcus' immediate family didn't mind him, and although he'd become considerably more comfortable with Sherry and was able to talk to Mr. Davenport without trying to force conversation, this was still their family. Mr. Davenport's older brother, and Raa had the sinking feeling that if whoever this TJ Davenport and his wife were, if they didn't like him, the family was likely to circle their wagons.
But that was stupid. Why the hell wouldn't they like him? After all, he was a guy, distinctly Lebanese, had a juvenile record a mile long, and was planning to pop their nephew's cherry in four days time. And to top it all off, he was planning to do so in their cabin.
Raa pulled to a stop in what had become his parking space in front of the house, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel for a moment, glanced in the mirror again, and cut the engine, climbing out, jingling his keys for a moment before he put them in his pocket. He kicked the door closed with a gentle bang, and walked to the door, sniffing the air that grew thicker with the scents of food the closer he got to the house; he had no idea what Marcus was cooking, but it smelled damn good.
"If he asks me what day of the week it is, I'll be sorely tempted to answer 'orange'." ~Chang WuFei,