He waved me toward a raised platform in the middle of the room. There were a few yoga mats lying on it, side by side. I glanced over at him. “What are those for?”
Armand gave a lopsided smile. “Your knees and hips, mate. You stand that long with no cushion, you’ll feel it in your joints.”
Immediateflashbacks to the thirty-hour bus ride. “Good to know.”
Armand took a deep breath, then launched into it. “I want to start them off with some gesture drawing, so quick poses, no more than a minute and a half each.” He clambered onto the platform and struck a pose, feet flat on the mat, knees bent and arms held out in front of him—his bottom half moved like he was doing tai chi, but the arms made him look like he was hugging a barrel. “You can do whatever you like with these, as long as it’s dynamic.” He turned smoothly, one knee coming down to the mat and his arms rising as if to block a blow from above.
It was weird. His movements had been so nervous and jerky before, but now he seemed natural. Almost graceful.
Armand kept switching the poses, and I realized I should be paying attention so I could get an idea of what he wanted. Like he’d said, it was mostly poses that caught him in the middle of a movement. I was pretty sure I couldn’t make the transitions between them that elegant, though. It was like he was dancing.
He stood up straight again. “For the longer poses, we’ll do one standing, if that’s all right, one sitting on that thing”—he pointed at a foam block—“and one on the floor.” He sat down on the mats and leaned back on his arms, one leg folded in front of him and the other lying straight out. “Twenty, twenty-five minutes each if that’s all hunky-dory?”
I nodded; there was a lot more to this job than I’d expected. When I posed for Lucas, he usually preferred to capture me in a natural stance before quickly moving to another. Belatedly, I started taking notes on my phone.
“If you get pins and needles, just make a muscle, little contractions.” He showed me on his leg, where I could see his quad stiffening and then releasing. “And don’t forget to warm up beforehand. Have a good stretch.” Then he was quiet for a bit. “Er, Skyler?”
“Yeah?” I was still typing the notes about stretching, and when I glanced up, he’d stood and was awkward and hunched again.
“At the—your other modeling gig ...” He swallowed. “The photographer ...”
“Lucas Barclay,” I supplied.
He nodded and bit his bottom lip, hands in his pockets. “Do you know if he’s ... all right?”
It took me a moment, but then: “Wait, do you know Lucas?”
“I, er,” Armand hedged, “I think I live with him.”
No. Way. “Oh my god.” I stared at him, eyes widening. “You’reLucas’s mystery roommate? You’re Mothman!”
Armand’s hands flew out of his pockets, and he folded his arms over his chest, rocking on his feet. “He told you about me? And he calls meMothman?” His eyes widened in horror before he shook himself. “Er, never mind. Do—do you happen to know if—”
“He went through a breakup.” I wasn’t sure if Lucas wanted me to be telling people his business, but Armand looked so worried. “He’s been staying with friends for a couple days. He’s not dead, but that’s all I know.” I couldn’t help grinning at him. “Wow, I can’t wait to tell him I actuallymetyou.”
His face flushed, and he climbed down off the platform. “Aye. Right. Um. Take your clothes off.”
I laughed in surprise. “Okay? Buy me dinner first?”
“No! That’s not—” He blushed darker and used both hands to push the hair out of his face. “Bugger it, I meant the first time you stand up there starkers,bestif it’s not in front of a classload of students, eh?”
“Good point,” I agreed, and started kicking off my shoes.
“Er, I know you didn’t bring anyone along, but shall I grab another member of staff or—”
“I don’t think a stranger would make this less awkward,” I cut him off with a grin, “and besides, if I can’t trust Mothman, whocanI trust?”
Armand sighed and turned away to grab something from his bag, which turned out to be a plain white sheet. “This is yours going forward. Things can get minging without your own sheet.”
No idea whatmingingmeant, but I finished getting undressed and took the sheet from him, spreading it over the yoga mats. Then I climbed onto the platform and looked out over the empty classroom.
“Brilliant, you’re a natural. Make sure not to rest all your weight on one foot during the longer poses.” It was weird to see him swing between awkwardness and businesslike instruction. “And if you start having a reaction, let me know immediately.”
I frowned down at him. “A reaction?”
He’d gone back to baseline awkward, but it didn’t seem to be because of my lack of clothes. “Er, yes. If you start getting shy. Or hives. Or an erection.”
Somehow it hadn’t evenoccurredto me that that would be a concern. I tried out some of the poses Armand had done, contemplating how to respond. “Okay. Um. That doesn’t happen to me very often, but I’ll let you know.”
