How conceited was I?
I took deep breaths.
Marg was just in front of me, looking at the small space for her fight, waiting for her opponent. She was this close and yet, I couldn't even go on and say hi. Something was wrong with me: my chest felt tight. Why was I suddenly being a wuss?
There were five minutes before the match, I couldn't dwindle. 'It's now or never, get it together!' With a bit of a pep talk, I shoved past the small crowd and went closer to Marg.
She noticed me sooner than I thought.
"Hey."
"Hi, did you need something?" Marg was indifferent. There was no smile, no emotion. She just spoke like the first time I met her.
"I mean-"
"Shouldn't you be somewhere else? Or are you giving up before trying?"
I went closer to her and spoke softly enough that people couldn't hear me. "I want to take responsibility for this."