Chapter 15
Mark the Team Player
Mark Geoffrey Hopper had been confused when he’d discovered that his new town already had a Mark Geoffrey Hopper, but he was even more confused when that Mark Geoffrey Hopper became friendly—or tried to, at least. In homeroom, Mark turned around to face him and asked how he was finding it in Greenburgh so far. And when Mark, assuming Mark was asking in order to tell him to move away, replied cautiously that it was fine, the other Mark just gave an even bigger forced smile and said, “Well, let me know if you want me to show you around or something sometime.” The new Mark’s mouth dropped open into an O, matching the shape of his eyes. He was too shocked to even say thank you. He thought he might be dreaming, until the other Mark added, “I pretty much know everything about the town.” Mark thought that was a little more like Mark, but he pinched a piece of his arm just to make sure.
In social studies that morning, Mark read (quietly) out loud his report about ancient Egyptian superstitions. When Mr. Rocco asked if there were any questions or comments, the other Mark raised his hand. The presenting Mark braced himself for the worst—the other Mark had pointed out mistakes or asked impossible questions to every other presenter so far. But this time Mark simply said, “I thought that was really interesting.”
Even Mr. Rocco’s eyes widened in response. “Really?” said Mr. Rocco. “I mean,” he said, remembering that he was the teacher, “did you find any part of it particularly interesting?”
Mark said, “Yes. I didn’t know that Egyptians worshipped cats.”
“Thank you,” said Mr. Rocco. “Yes, that was a very interesting part.”
The presenting Mark was still too shocked at the other Mark’s comments to be proud of himself.
The other Mark raised his hand once more. “Actually,” he said quickly when Mr. Rocco called on him again, “I did already know that, but it was still interesting.” He sneer-smiled at Mark, but Mark thought it actually looked slightly more like a smile than a sneer. Convinced Mark was being nice because he had already done something mean, he checked his chair thoroughly for anything pointy, sticky, or Scotch-taped, but it seemed clear. (Actually, he didn’t get a chance to check it as thoroughly as he wanted to because Mr. Rocco said, “Is something wrong with your chair, Mark?” and he had to say no and sit down quickly.)
“Mark Hopper is being really, really nice,” Mark whispered to Jonathan in the locker room before gym.
“Serious?” said Jonathan, glancing around for the other Mark, whose gym locker was one aisle over.
“Yeah,” Mark whispered. “It’s really weird.”
“That’s scary,” Jonathan said. “Maybe you’re going to get home and find that he killed your cat or something.”
“I don’t have a cat.”
“Maybe he got you a cat and then killed it.”
Mark stood far away from the other Mark while the gym teacher led the class through the presport stretches. But after stretching, Mark came next to him and said, “You’re really good at that hamstring stretch.”
Jonathan, who was still standing on one foot and stretching the other leg, fell over.
“Um, thanks,” Mark said.
“A lot of people don’t realize that stretching is really important,” Mark continued. “But you’re pretty good at it. Like me.”
The gym teacher selected two boys to be captains for a soccer game, and they stepped in front of the group to choose their players. Kenny Yolent took Jonathan and Paul Grotosky, and Pete Dale chose Tyrell Smith and Cole Zitoff. Then Pete pointed to Mark Hopper, who was standing next to Mark Hopper. “I’ll take Hopper,” he said.
Both Marks stepped forward. They stopped and looked at each other.
“I’m really good at soccer,” said the Mark who had been acting strangely friendly.
Pete rolled his eyes and pointed to the other Mark. “I want that Hopper.”
“Are you sure?” asked Mark in a way that suggested Pete was choosing creamed spinach over chocolate cake.
“It’s okay,” said the other Mark. “You go be on Pete’s team.”
“What?” said Pete. “I’m the captain. I pick you Hopper, not you Hopper.” He turned to the second one. “Get over yourself,” he said.
Mark glared at Pete and said, “Your team’s loss, diaper breath.” Then he patted the other Mark on the back and said, through his teeth, “No offense.”
Mark walked to stand by Pete and Jonathan with his eyes as round as soccer balls. A few rounds of picking later, no one was left but the other Mark Hopper and Jim Sewell, who, no matter what the sport, picked up the ball and threw it. Kenny picked Jim, and Pete had no choice but to take the other Mark after all.
The Mark chosen last usually tried to score every time he got the ball, no matter how far he was from the goal. But when the ball came to him at the very end of the class period, he passed it to the other Mark, who kicked it to score the winning goal. The whole team cheered and patted Mark on the back, including the other Mark, who patted so hard he almost knocked Mark over.
The Mark who scored, still concerned that Mark’s friendliness was all a front, decided to fight fire with fire—or, in this case, roses with roses. He took Mark’s hand in his, shook it tightly, and then raised it in the air. “That was a great assist!” he shouted.
The other teammates looked at one another. Then Jonathan stepped up and patted both Marks on the back. “Awesome pass!” he yelled. “All right, team!”
Tyrell and Cole followed. They jumped on Mark’s back and hollered. Even Pete Dale shook Mark’s hand. The gym teacher blew his whistle, and all of the boys ran back to the locker room chanting “Mark and Mark! Mark and Mark!”