Dancing Part III

As the slow song ended, Heather ran up to me all happy, bubbly. I (having no other excuse)  feigned equally as excited feelings. My friend just rolled her eyes and stepped back, waiting to watch the performance.  Heather practically skipped onto the dance floor. It was a slow dance and the mass of other people dancing blocked my view of my friend for a moment.  Heather was talking animatedly in tones loud enough to rupture any tympanic membrane, other couples dancing glared in our direction, Heather paid no attention. I remember her saying, "Who's that with your friend?"  Turning to look, I saw Mark talking to my friend. He looked intent, like he was trying desperately to get the point across. My friend looked annoyed. "An old acquaintance." I said, off handedly, while changing the direction of our dancing so I could watch.  Heather shrugged. "He's cute."  "Hm, if you say so."  She giggled.
Mark was now using expressive hand gestures, and in one swift moment, grabbed my friend and holding her tightly, began to dance.  My friend looked less than pleased and tried to push away.  He held tighter.  I began to lose interest in dancing with Heather, and instinctively began to move closer to my friend.
Mark was saying something, then without warning kissed my friend. She yanked free and slapped him.

I don't remember letting go of Heather, I just remember the next thing I said was something like, "What do you think you're doing?" Mark straightened, "Just dancing, got a problem with that?" He looked defiant.  "No, I don't have a problem with your participation in such frivolous activities." I said, glaring at him, "But I believe your behavior was less than acceptable and my friend might very well 'have a problem with that'."  He glared at me then turned to my friend, "Do you have a problem with that?"  My friend began to speak but he cut her off, "See! She doesn't! So go back to wherever ever it is you came from and leave us alone!"  He turned around, thinking the argument won. Other couples were stopping to watch. "Pardon me," I said, still trying to be diplomatic. "But I believe you did not let the lady speak. Under your laws, you are allowed freedom of speech and you are violating such a thing." "Thank you Mr. Jefferson." Mark said sarcastically, "But she doesn't need to talk,  besides, who wants a girls opinion anyway?" He looked around the room as if expecting to see heads nodding in agreement.  He didn't.  "Oh come on!" he yelled, "All girls are are pretty faces that don't have an ounce of logic in their heads! What kind of opinion could you get from that? I bet Mr. Smarty Pants here has a Mom who couldn't name the months of the year!" 
That did it.
Forget legal liability or the fact that anger is illogical, I hit him.
The look of shock on his face was gratifying. And then he hit back.  I vaguely remember feeling some form of pain, but that's it. I won't give you the ugly details, I will just say that Mark will look oh so charming with his front tooth missing.
                                                                      *
I fell back onto the couch in my friend's living room.  I heard her heels clicking as she went into the kitchen and opened the freezer. She came back and handed me an ice pack. "Wow." was all she said as I pressed the cold compress to my forehead. The world was spinning. "I didn't know you could hit like that." I nodded, faintly, "A matrix ninja never tells their secrets." She smiled, relieved that I was still feeling well enough to joke. "Well, Mark got what he deserved." I smiled to myself. Revenge was sweet.
My friend handed me a band aid, "Thanks Spock."  I smiled, "You're welcome."