Oh, fuck no. He didnotjust insult her.
“Fuck you!” she yells back, trying to throw her fist at his face, only for the bouncer to keep her arms back.
“Yea, you wish, you giant bitch!” he keeps running his mouth.
Something inside me snaps- a need to protect, to defend. Nobody sees me coming as I tackle that douchey asshole to the floor.
“Fuck you! You ignorant asshole!” I roar.
“That’s it,” the bouncer starts. “You’re out of here, too!” He grabs me and drags me out of the bar. The tall, wild woman-Margeaux, is being dragged out with me.
“You can’t be serious?!” she argues. Damn, she has so much rage, it’s bleeding into me. I’ve never been in a fight, and in the span of an hour, this woman has ignored me, turned me on, and got me to tackle a guy to defend her honor.What the fuck has come over me?
The mood shift in the bar is palpable, and the bride-to-be, and the girl making out with Lance follow the bouncer. I’m already being shoved out the door, and I don’t fight back. I quickly check my hands to make sure I didn’t bruise, or fracture anything. I walk a few paces away, letting the bouncer know I’m not going to be any trouble. The next bouncer brings out the group of women who are yelling at my new fighting partner.
“Jesus fuck, Margeaux! I knew you would do something to ruin my weekend!” the bride-to-be shouts, tears forming in her eyes. “Why are you even here?! Haley said you told us to fuck off!”
“Fuck you, Zoey!” Margeaux yells, now making a scene outside. I stay close, but out of eyesight so it doesn’t look like I’m lurking.
“Of course she did! I warned you about this earlier, Margeaux. You just have to steal the spotlight. You can’t let anybody have attention except for you. And now, you ruined this entire night for Zoey,” one of the bridesmaids, and Lance’s make-out partner, says angrily.
“I can’t believe you two. That guy was literally dry humping Colleen, and she was saying no!” Margeaux says, defending heractions. That guy was definitely crossing a line from where I was sitting.Brice Strickland! That’s his name! Yea, dude is a known trust fund douchebag.
“God. You’re absolutely clueless, Margeaux. Colleen was fine. We’re all fine. Stop acting like you were doing anything helpful just now. Just go back to the rental. We’ll see you later,” the bride, Zoey, demands.
“Whatever. Fuck all of you,” Margeaux says as she turns and stomps away. It’s only now that I can get a closer look at her body in her dress, and how it shows off her strong legs and the twisted tattoo of plants and vines on her right leg. She notices me out of the corner of her eye, and now I’m on the receiving end of her rage-fueled glower. “And what the fuck are you looking at, short guy?”
Ouch. That hurt.
“N-nothing. Sorry. I was just trying to help,” I say, but she’s already storming away.
The bachelorette party girls all congregate outside and give each other a pep talk, deciding not to let their night be ruined. They chant the name of the next bar they’re going to, and their squealing laughter retreats in the opposite direction of Margeaux.
A heavy hand on my shoulder pulls my attention away from her ass as she crosses the street. “Well, my mood is killed. What was up with you taking that guy out?” Lance asks.
“What? Oh, nothing. Just didn’t like the way he was talking to those women. Think I maybe had one too many drinks,” I say.
“I’d say. Never seen you act soaggressive. Super out of character for you, bro.”
“Yea. I think I’ve seen enough tonight,” I agree. “I’m just gonna head home.”
I glance down the street once more, hoping to see that loud and colorful woman one more time. She’s already gone.
6
MARGEAUX
My phone vibratesoff the nightstand and onto the floor. The buzzing thunders through my room and causes my hangover to kick in painfully. Angry drinking a bottle of wine when I got back to the rental last night was not my smartest decision.
Uggghhhh.
I shove my head under my pillow, willing whoever is calling me to give up. I’m not that lucky. My phone continues buzzing and thumping against the floor for another five minutes before I muster up the energy to pick up my phone. The time shows that it’s barely six in the morning. Who the fuck is the asshole calling me this early? And on a Sunday?!
“Yea!?” I groan into my phone.
“Wake the fuck up, Marg! What the fuck did you do last night?” Ashleigh’s panicked voice blares through the phone and my head pounds even more.
“Ugh. Calm down. Quiet please. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t do anything last night,” I say, trying to stay half-asleep so I can pass out as soon as I get her off the phone.
