And We Danced All Night (A Marcel fanfiction)

Marcel has kept it hidden that his brother is none other than *the* Harry Styles--not because he wants to (because he admires his brother with great respect for what he does), but because he doesn't want to live in his shadow. This, of course, comes with a price: He's not nearly as outgoing as his siblings are. When Samara Deanne comes to the top-level STEM school, where he attends, where will his shaky personality take him? Will she change him for the better?


4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

I watched as she ate at the hamburger that she ordered, completely ignoring my fries. It was funny, whenever she went to take a bite, a bit of her hair would always get in her face. Her frustration would take over for a second and she's push the bit of hair behind her ear. Her hair was short though, so it always fell back into her face whenever she leaned forward.

After getting ketchup in her hair for what seemed like the tenth time, she huffed, blowing the hair out of her face again. I chuckled. She is so adorable, I thought to myself.

She glared at me. "What are you laughing at?"

I gulped. 'Uh—nothing. I'm not laughing. What makes you think I'm laughing?" I spit out quickly, stuffing French fries in my mouth.

Her stern face softened, and she let out a laugh. "It's so cute when you do that,"

"Do what?"

"Get flustered," she admitted, blushing. "I kind of like that. It's...different,"

That got my attention. "Different, how?"

Before she could answer, my phone rang. I looked down at it to find Mum calling. Samara took the hint and let me answer.


"Marcel, sweetie, where are you?"

"I'm at the shack," I answered.

"Why don't you come home? You should have been home at four. It's five-thirty now,"

My eyes widened. "Okay, I'll be home in a little bit,"

"Hey, is that you're Mom?" Samara asked.

"Yes, it's my mum," I answered.

"Who are you talking to?" Mum asked.

"My friend Samara," I answered.

"Ooh!" she cawed. "You're got a friend? AND, a girl? I want to meet her!"

"No, Mum," I answered. "I've already put her through a lot today, and-"

"Marcel, you haven't put me through any trouble," Samara said.

"Marcie, put the phone on speaker," Mum commanded.

I sighed and set the phone on the table. "Mum can you hear us?"

"Yes, I can," she said. "Am I speaking to Samara as well?"

"Of course," Samara answered.

"Ooh! You must be American!"

"I'm from Hawaii, ma'am," she answered.

"And Hawaiian! That's awesome! First, I'd like to say thank you for being Marcel's friend-"

"Mum!" I cried out. "Can you not?"

Samara laughed and poked my cheek. "Why are you so embarrassed?"

"I'm not nearly as embarrassed for myself as I am for you,"

She giggled. "I think it's sweet,"

"See, Marcel," Mum said.

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever, Mum,"

She laughed. "I think it's time to come home. Maybe soon I can meet Miss Samara face to face-"

"Well, I'm bringing him home, so if you don't mind, I can pop in for a bit," Samara offered.

"No, Sam-"

"That would be a WONDERFUL idea," Mum said. "I'll be expecting you both here in a bit, yes,"

I sighed. "Yes, ma'am," Samara and I agreed. Mum hung up.

"Oh, she sounds so sweet!" Samara gushed.

"You should see her in person,"

"Oh, I'm sure she's completely fine,"

I smiled. "She is. She's just a bit embarrassing sometimes,"

She shrugged. "What parent isn't? My Dad is bad for it,"

I laughed. "I guess that's something else we both have in common. Embarrassing parents,"

We left the shack and went to my house.




When we pulled up to my house, Mum was sitting on the front porch, like she'd been waiting on us. I hid my face in my hands. Oh Mum, please, no, I thought to myself.

Samara laughed and poked my on the shoulder. "Come on, Marcie. I want to go meet your mom," I rolled my eyes and got out of the car. "What?" I heard behind me. I turned to see a confused look on Samara's face. "Was it something I said?"

I laughed. "I was joking!" She gave me "the look."

"Ha ha," she said. "You're so funny, Marcel,"

I smiled. "I know,"

We walked up the path to the front porch. Mum had a beaming smile on her face, like she was proud that I found a friend. Was it wrong to admit that I was proud that I found one, too?

"Is this Samara?" Mum asked.

Samara nodded. "You can call me Sam, f you'd like. It doesn't matter to me,"

Mum smiled. "I really like your name. Do you mind me continuing to call you Samara?"

Samara shrugged. "Like I said, I don't mind at all,"

Mum smiled again. "Why don't you come in, then? The both of you?"

"Oh, I've actually got to get home. My host family is having a 'welcome-to-England' party for me. Maybe I can come over some other time, if that's okay,"

"Of course," Mum answered. "You can come over any time," She nudged me on the shoulder. "Go see your friend off. You don't get friends like that often," she whispered to me.

"You're right," I walked over to Samara. "I'll see you at school tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," She walked back to her car. Suddenly she turned. "Hey, I can pick you up in the morning, if you'd like,"

"O-oh, no. You don't really have to-"

"I insist," she offered.

I sighed. "Okay,"

She smiled. "I'll see you in the morning, Marcel. I'll be here at seven forty-five,"

"Why so early?"

She shrugged. "I like a good frappe in the morning,"

I smiled. "Okay. Bye, Samara,"

"Bye, Marcel," she waved at me before getting into her car. I waved back as she drove off.

Mum tapped me on the shoulder. "She's a keeper," she said to me before walking into the house.

She was absolutely right.

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