this chapter is dedicated to the ever-so-lovely @readytorunrejects !!
she really likes leaving amazing and hilarious comments and I really enjoy reading them so I guess you could say we just get each other :-)
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Margo:
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"Shit!"
I slam the blazing hot flat iron down on the bathroom counter and double over in pain, having just burned my ear for the fourth time in less than five minutes.
My fingers tenderly graze the sensitive skin as I let out a hiss of discomfort. Gingerly, I pull the half-straightened part of hair back and examine the damage in my mirror. The skin appears incredibly irritated, however not enough to keep me from straightening the rest of my hair.
Good thing I own plenty of burn ointment.
I'm about to continue with my hair, when I notice my phone screen light up out from the corner of my eye. Once again, I set the flat iron down and reach for the device, wondering who could possibly need me at eight in the morning.
From Evan:
Hey babe the squad is gonna hit up the club tonight. u in? :)
I let out a sigh, unsure of how I want to reply. I'm still pissed off at Evan, and to go out tonight with him and his friends would no-doubt give the impression that all is forgiven.
Looking up in the mirror, I meet my own brown eyes and shrug unsurely as if I am asking for advice from my reflection.
Do I really want to give him the satisfaction of knowing I'm willing to spend time with him so soon after his mishap the other night? Sunday hasn't even rolled around yet, and I still haven't given him a for-sure answer of whether or not I want to spend the day with him. Last thing I need is for him to assume that I've gotten over his fuck-up -- especially just three days after it happened; because I haven't.
To Evan:
I'll see what I have going on. I'm still not happy with you.
His response comes through in a matter of seconds.
From Evan:
Come on babe! I said I was sorry :( please don't be this way
To Evan:
Whatever. I'm busy most of today anyway. If I can come, I will. If I can't, I won't.
From Evan:
Well there will always be room for u :)
We'll be at the usual location if ur in :)))
I roll my eyes at his response and continue with my getting ready.
Twenty minutes and four more burns later, I'm done with my hair and am picking out an outfit to wear. After five minutes of serious contemplating, I settle on an old pair of black skinny jeans and a simple maroon sweater with my worn-out pair of solid black vans.
The day is a series of mundane errands I've been putting off for weeks. Grocery shopping for what I can afford, laundry, dropping off a forgotten sweatshirt a friend of Evan's left in my car, the typical.
Around six 'o clock, I find myself back at 'home' having finished everything I needed to accomplish. I crawl into bed, planning on calling it a night with some YouTube binging and fruit snacks in hand. But strangely enough, I can't bring myself to find entertainment in any of the dumb Buzzfeed videos or the random "ghost-hunting" episode snippets I usually am able to become so enthralled with.
It's just one of those nights where lying in bed with the internet isn't enough to keep me satisfied; which is incredibly rare for me.
Suddenly I remember the exchange between Evan and me earlier in the day, and I end up seriously contemplating whether or not it would pay to go out tonight.
I haven't taken off my makeup yet, all I'd need to do is get changed.
But Evan will think I've forgiven him; which I haven't.
But I'll be bored out of my mind just lying around. Mind as well do something with my time.
Getting wasted? I really don't need the hangover tomorrow, and I sure as hell do not want to deal with all of Evan's piss-drunk friends either.
But if I don't drink very much, I could end up having a great time. Plus, I haven't been clubbing in ages. Like three weeks! That's a new record!
But Evan...
Not everything is about Evan, dammit. I can go out and have a great time in the presence of Evan without my night revolving around him.
Against my better judgement, I crawl out of bed and shuffle over to the dark closet in search of an acceptable clubbing outfit.
I for one, am repeat-outfit-wearing offender, and I accept it. If an outfit looks good, I'll wear it more than once. What's the point of refusing to wear something that looks perfectly fine simply because you've worn it before?
I pull out the classic mid-thigh-length black dress I've worn multiple times clubbing, not ambitious enough to find a different outfit to wear. After locating the old, broken-in pair of black stilettos I've worn too many times to count, I study my reflection in the mirror, evaluating if I should touch-up my hair or makeup.
After a half an hour of re-doing my eyeliner as it smudged throughout the day, I conclude that I appear presentable. I go to grab my purse, calling a cab as I make my way out the door.
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The club is just as crowded and overstimulating as I remember it being. I weave my way through the crowd, avoiding being jabbed by the elbows or being sloshed on by careless people with drinks in hand.
Then, I meet the eyes of someone I recognize, and make my way over towards the familiar face as not to appear lost in the crowd.
"Margo, you came!"
I smile politely to the tall, tan friend of Evan, nodding in response to his exclamation. "Hello Caleb."
The dark haired boy grins down at me, nodding as if I said something particularly interesting. Obviously, he's unable to make out my words over the music and he doesn't want to have to tell me to repeat myself. He takes a swig of beer carelessly before apparently clearing his throat.
"I'll let Evan know you're here. He's out on the dance floor." Caleb raises his voice, making wild gestures over towards the dance floor with his empty hand to overcompensate for his near drowned out words.
I nod stiffly at the young man in response to his words, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable for yet-again being unable to hear me.
Caleb deserts me to find my boyfriend in the crowd instead of leaving me to it, a gesture that I appreciate greatly, especially from someone who I don't know very well. I find myself wandering over to the hectic bar in hopes of picking up a simple beer or anything to quench my thirst and help me loosen up a bit.
After an unbelievable wait time, I'm eventually served a mediocre, overpriced cup of beer. I take the tiniest of sips to get a taste of the drink and to my dismay, discover that this particular alcohol is utterly disgusting.
But I paid nine good dollars for this so I'm going to drink it anyway.
I'm interrupted from my thoughts by a tap on the shoulder, causing me to jump in fright.
"Hey babe," Evan's orotund voice greets me as I feel two arms wrap around my torso from behind. I relax in realizing that it's simply him and not some stranger.
"Hi Evan." I shout over the music, a bit indifferently since I am still unhappy with this man-child I so-call my boyfriend. I turn to meet his all-too-familiar smirking expression, his bumptious demeanor not fading despite the circumstances. He eyes me up and down, taking in my appearance, and ignoring my annoyance with him.
"You look great!" He compliments me, and it's now when I notice a subtle slur in his words.
"How much have you had to drink tonight?" I question him, now bellowing over the music.
It's literally only ten-thirty and this moron is already somewhat drunk. What a complete idiot.
Evan appears thoughtful as he looks up at the colorful lights, counting on his fingers slowly as he struggles to determine just how many drinks he's already had.
"I am not tracking your drunk ass down if you get lost. Capeesh?" I jab a pointed finger at his chest, emphasizing the fact that I'm not joking.
Evan's response to this is to simply laugh and begin to sway to the music. "Don't be a buzzkill, Margo." He drawls on, wrapping an arm around my waist.
I shake my head before taking another swig of the awful beer I regrettably spent a small fortune on before following Evan to the dance floor where I tend to have the most fun at clubs.
Despite still not having fully forgiven my boyfriend, I manage to put my anger aside for the period that we spend on the dance floor, and end up having a great time with him and his friends.
After a while however, I find myself feeling incredibly thirsty considering the fact that Evan finished off the nasty beer I would've struggled to choke down. I dismiss myself from the group and make my way back over to the bar, now simply desiring a cup of water.
The bartender serves me in an efficient manner, and I manage to find a seat at a nearby table, giving me a vantage point to overlook the club. I watch the lower level of the club in appreciation for the nearly synchronized dancing among the people on the dance floor. Despite everyone dancing in their own fashion, every body still jumps to the beat of the music; giving the crowd a pulse-like quality that I find incredibly interesting and almost awe-worthy.
People bustle past my table, but no one really bothers me in my location of ever-so-slight-solitude. I take this moment of unoccupied time to dig through my purse in search of my phone, desiring to know how long I've been out and when I should head home.
11:56. Well, I guess I'll be sleeping in tomorrow. There goes another Saturday of not doing anything productive.
I tuck the phone back into my small handbag and lift the cup of water to my lips, returning to my people-watching.
"Do not drink that!"
I'm snapped out of my thoughts and turn my head curiously towards the source of the yelling, though it doesn't really make a scene considering the fact that I'm probably the only person who heard the stranger yell to me.
"What?" I bellow over the music to the newcomer, placing my cup down without hesitation.
The blond boy appears out of breath and distressed, placing a hand on his hip as he recovers from whatever running he had to do to get over to me. "Some man... slipped a type of sedative into your beverage!" The tall, young man informs me, looking dead serious.
My mouth drops at his words, "Are you joking?" I don't even wait for him to respond, and take this time to look around me hastily, searching for a suspect.
"I am being perfectly honest." The unnamed man tells me earnestly, leaning a respectable distance from me so I can hear his words.
I take in a deep breath, sighing heavily as the weight of the many horrible ways this situation could have gone if this man hadn't said anything settles in. Even if he isn't being honest, and I don't see why he wouldn't be, it's always better to be safe than sorry.
"Oh my god..." I huff out under my breath, my stomach growing uneasy at the mere thought of being drugged.
"You are fine. You did not drink any, did you?" The man asks me, concern lacing every one of his words as he pulls up a chair opposite me, eyeing me worriedly.
I shake my head in response as I fumble with my hands, "Thank you so much." I tell him, meeting his blue eyes.
He bows his head, dismissing his act of good-will as he scratches the nape of his neck nervously. "I just wanted to make certain you are okay."
I thank him again and stand up from the chair with the cup of water in hand. The lanky yet slightly muscular boy simply watches me intently as I toss the drink into a nearby garbage bin.
I return to his side, "Do you know who did it?" I question him over the music, referring to whoever slipped something in my drink. He nods solemnly.
I watch as he raises a finger, pointing to a perfectly average looking man who appears to be in his late twenties across the bar, who at this point in time acts oblivious to our presence.
"I do not know his name, but I do not find it terribly important at this point. All that matters is that you are safe." My savior tells me, and I'm stunned at his incredible chivalry.
I'm at a loss for words at this unknown stranger.
"Well thank you." He nods modestly, looking almost bashful at my gratitude. "Can I at least know my hero's name?" I ask, voice still raised to compensate for the pounding volume of the music.
The corners of his lips tug into a small smile as he nods. "My name is Luke."
"I'm Margo."
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YOOOOOO WHAT'D YOU THINK
i hope it wasn't too fast paced :-(
but like i got so excited writing this chapter and idk what do you think?
I love love love feedback and I promise the next chapter will be on its way soon :-)
vote + comment and you too could maybe (probably) get a dedication !!!
thanks for reading!
- Sarah :-)