“Sit down and face your partner,” Corbin says. “With your legs crossed and your wrists resting on your knees, take a moment to ground yourself.”
I get situated and close my eyes. If I don’t have to see Addison, it’s like she’s not there. I try to think calming thoughts. Father-daughter trips with Dad to see Muir Woods, but that quickly devolves into a heavy guilt in my chest as I remember the box of Dad’s (and Mom’s) belongings I left under my bed in Erica’s pool house. The last earthly pieces of my parents and I left them to gather dust while I ran off to do goat yoga on a reality TV show.
I take a deep breath and try again for new calming thoughts. Sleeping in so late on Saturday mornings that my bed is hot with sunshine. Color-coding my shoe collection and micro-organizing by heel height. Going to Coney Island with Sierra in the dead of winter. But all I can see is the silhouette of that box and Erica’s handwriting scrawled across the top. None of my happy thoughts are able to set me entirely at ease. I haven’t felt fully like myself since this whole thing started. It’s like I can remember who I envision myself to be and the person who I think I am, but the reality of who I am in this moment feels like a stranger to me.
“Now open your eyes,” Corbin continues. “Look into your partner’s eyes.”
I open my eyes and see Addison making a side-eye glance at Henry and Sara Claire. The two of them are grinning silly at each other. Henry whispers something to her when Corbin’s back is turned, and Sara Claire has to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing. The other night, everyone made such a point of how good Addison and Henry looked together, but Sara Claire and Henry are the ones who seem like a perfect match to me. It doesn’t take much imagination at all to picture how their lives might intertwine and play out together. A wedding. A family. Picture-perfect vacations. Grandkids. Hand in hand until the very end.
“Stupid hillbilly,” Addison mutters.
“She’s from Austin,” I say. “That’s, like, a huge city.”
“Whatever. Just look into my eyes or something.”
I take a deep breath and proceed to have the most intense staring contest I’ve had with anyone since Billy Samples challenged me to one in fifth grade. Winner had to do the loser’s vocabulary homework for a week. (I wonanddid my own homework, because I’m terrified of getting in trouble.)
“Now reach out and embrace your partner’s forearms,” says Corbin. “Very nice,” he tells Henry and Sara Claire. “Now, everyone, breathe in and out in sync with your partner. You are a unit. Their breath is your breath.”
“You’re breathing too fast,” I tell Addison.
“You’re not breathing fast enough,” she says.
Corbin walks us through a few poses, some of which involve Addison’s ass way too close to my head. “Now, this next pose I only recommend for the most experienced yogis out there. But I think you and Sara Claire can handle it,” he says to Henry.
Henry looks to Sara Claire, his brow arched in question, and she shrugs with a giggle.
“This is called the double plank. Henry, you’ll position yourself in a plank on the ground,” Corbin continues. “And, Sara Claire, you’ll also do a plank, but on Henry’s back, facing the opposite direction with your feet on his shoulders.”
A quiet groan rolls through the rest of us as Sara Claire and Henry play their little game of Twister as she crawls on top of him.
A row ahead of me, Jenny sighs dramatically as she rests her chin in her hands.
“Is it possible for seventeen people to feel like a third wheel at one time?” I hear someone ask.
Sara Claire’s perfect breasts brush the back of Henry’s legs, and then voilà! They hit their planking pose for just a few seconds before Sara Claire balances on one arm and touches the bottom of Henry’s foot with the other.
Henry kicks wildly, and they both tumble to the ground in a fit of laughter.
“No tickling allowed!” Henry cries.
My stomach flip-flops as I notice the crew eating it all up, pulling in closer to the two of them.
Corbin lets out a stilted laugh—this is definitely breaking the rules of yoga. He leads us through one last breathing exercise. “With your eyes closed, I want you to remember that we are all connected and everything happens for a reason. The universe is a series of reactions. Will you be thereor theaction?”
“I think I’m having a reaction to this bullshit,” Stacy whispers behind me.
I snort with laughter and my face turns a deep shade of red. When I open my eyes, the only other person who sees me is Henry. He watches me with one eye open and a faint smile.
“Namaste,” says Corbin.
Everyone else opens their eyes, and Henry’s gaze stays steady on me.
Warmth sinks from my chest all the way down to my belly, and I almost have to force myself to look away.
“Namaste,” we repeat.
Back at the house, we all take turns showering post-yoga and slowly congregate downstairs in the expansive living room. Exploring the château over the last few days has been almost otherworldly. The furniture is ornate and lush, but nothing is actually comfortable. The house is clean, but every room only looks good from certain angles, because there are cords and lights left out for night shooting, or rooms with bad lighting. With no library, television, or internet to keep us busy, we’ve been left to our own devices when it comes to entertainment. Last night, our attempts devolved into a contest of Chubby Bunny, which resulted in us getting in trouble with Mallory, who had stashed the marshmallows for later so they could get some B-roll of us all making s’mores.
