Our first fight

“Here’s the thing,” I said to Rachel. “You think that I think I’m better than you.”
She eyed me incredulously. “But that’s not why you hate me. Here’s why you hate me.” I paused for dramatic tension. “You think that I’m better than you.”
It took her a second to process the information and then WHACK! She caught me hard on the jaw.
I wasn’t expecting to get hit. Well, maybe just a slap if I’d really got to her, but the surprise of the fist to the chin brought a tear to my eye.
Then she got on top of me and tried to wrestle me to the floor. We were in a bar called Shandy’s. The lights were fluorescent and the drinks were mostly cocktails. The music was chillout and dub, while the mood was generally blissed out.
And there we were, a couple of hyenas, cackling away at each other and scratching at each others skin, trying to bruise and gain advantage.
I had hold of her hands, so she couldn’t do any real damage, but she managed to shift her knee across the top of my thigh and wedge it down close to my groin. She was getting pretty near to real damage now.
As she dug her fingers in to scar my wrists, her knee finally reached its target and I jerked forward. My forehead crashed into her nose and she fell backwards towards the glass table.
I managed to grab her body back from the edge and we both slid sideways, off the bench seat and onto the carpet, the main thoroughfare between the bar and each of the booths filled with patrons.
I placed her carefully down and waited for her to open her eyes. She scrunched her nose like a child or a mouse and then smiled, showing me her straightened teeth.
I smiled too and we kissed and rolled about there on the rich blue carpet for what seemed like hours.