Foolproof

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

"Wha - h-how is this possible?!" Harry stammered.  He stared over my shoulder at Marcel.  His eyes were wide and he had a fascinated look on his face.  He took a step forward, but stopped himself and continued to stare at Marcel in wonder.

I stepped to the side and faced the two boys.  Marcel looked just as astounded as Harry.

"Who are you?" Harry asked, not waiting any longer for Marcel to find his words to reply to his last question.  He enunciated every word slowly and deliberately.

Marcel only continued to stare at Harry.  The looked on his face was all too familiar to me.  He was starstruck.  Maybe he did know who Harry was.

"You - you're Harry Styles," Marcel whispered.

"Yeah, I guess I am," Harry said, pretending to be shocked by the news himself.  He flipped his curls to the side, acting dramatic as always.  I laughed at his weird behavior.  "But seriously, how do you look so much like me?  Did you get plastic surgery?  The medical field can work wonders these days."

Marcel shook his head.  "No!  The only time I've ever even been to a doctor for anything serious was to get a fork removed from my hand.  Don't ask.  I have really bad hand-eye-coordination when I'm eating."

I looked at Harry and smiled, hoping to bring down the tension between Harry and Marcel.  "Hey, Harry, so do you!  But then again, you're just clumsy overall.  Remember that time you were playing soccer - or football, whatever - with Louis, and you were playing goalie and totally wiped out trying to block the ball?  Now that was amazing."

Harry stepped between me and Marcel.  "Okay, okay.  The whole world already knows I'm clumsier than an elephant."

"Elephant, huh?" asked Marcel, smiling dorkily.  "I would've gone with something more like a giraffe."  Harry only stared at Marcel with a blank look on his face, blinking every so often.  Marcel cleared his throat awkwardly.  "Um, well, I'm Marcel Smith, to answer your delightful question from before.  It was cool to meet you Harry, but I gotta go.  My mom is waiting back at home for her nightly foot rub."

"You rub your mom's feet?"  Harry's facial expression twisted into a look of disgust.  I didn't blame him.  The thought of even poking my mom's foot with a stick repulsed me.

A look of surprise was written across Marcel's face.  "Don't you?  Gosh, you're missing out on life."  He paused before adding, "Well, it was nice to meet ya two."  

Kurt finished boxing up Marcel's assortment of cheeses and handed the box to Marcel.  The weird thing was, Marcel never told Kurt his order.  But that's just how Kurt is.  He eavesdrops - majorly.  Once he hears the name of a certain kind of cheese, he's already wrapping chunks of it in plastic.  He's like a cheese pro.

Marcel pulled a twenty dollar bill out from his wallet and waited patiently for his change.  Kurt opened the cash register and fished out a few dollar bills before handing it to Marcel.  Marcel slipped the change in the pockets of his fancy brown pants.  His whole outfit was polished.  He wore a sweater vest over a white, long-sleeved dress shirt.  He started to walk away, but then he froze.  Slowly, a smile crept across his lips and he looked straight at Harry.  

"Can you sign my cheese box?  Katarina would love that!"  His light green eyes were wide and hopeful, like a puppy dog at one of those pet stores in the mall.

I glanced at Harry, but he wasn't pulling his trusty sharpie out of his pocket like I had expected.  Instead, he was staring at Marcel with a devilish look on his face.  The creepiest smirk ever was spread across his lips.