I make it to the yoga studio for Riley's class ten minutes before it starts. I made sure to stretch for thirty minutes before I left the house. I wouldn't say I'm competitive per se, but I’d die happy if I got Riley to take me out to dinner.
Two employees sit behind a white marble counter before one looks up at me to greet me. “Hi, welcome in.”
“Hi, I’m here for Riley Lewis’ class.” I stand thereawkwardly. How does this work? Do I take off my shoes now? Do I stretch some more out here?
“Okay, you can have a seat in the waiting area until she gets here or look around the shop. Let us know if you have any questions.”
On each side of the walls that surround us, T-shirts hang in rows at the top, some plain and others with sayings like'Yoga. Coffee. Naps.’Another says,‘Yoga’in large cursive and on the bottom in small, capitalized letters,‘BECAUSE PUNCHING PEOPLE IS FROWNED UPON.’
That has Riley's name written all over it. On the bottom of the shirts are wooden shelves with neatly folded yoga pants and shorts. A wired bin props up rolled yoga mats in assorted colors next to a large wooden table filled with more yoga clothes, and a small basket filled with socks.
A minute later, the door creaks open, and Riley appears. Her short hair is pushed behind her ears, and she wears tight maroon yoga leggings, a simple white ribbed tank top that clings to her, and a fuzzy zip-up coat.
It's hard for me to look away when everything she's wearing looks painted on. The leggings show off her sculpted ass that is so tight and round that I want to take a bite out of it like a Honey Crisp apple.
Riley takes off her coat and hangs it on one of the hooks on the wall leading to the employee room to the right of the desk. She walks toward me and cocks her head, hands on her hips, shoes gone, showing off black ankle socks. "I'm surprised you're here."
I stand up, grab my pink yoga mat, and flash an excited grin. "I'm ready to do some bending."
“Oh, I’m gonna bend you nice and good.” The look inher eyes is something out of a horror movie. “This is gonna be fun!”
I'mbent down with my ass up in the air, dripping in sweat. Riley forgot to mention that this class ishotyoga, not regular yoga. I know she did this on purpose. She chose a class she knew would consist of being in a sauna, that will probably kill me.
I'm going to need to ring out this mat when I'm done with it. So much sweat has accumulated on it. My glasses continue to slide down my face while I try to push them up with my arm.
"Now twist your body to the side, keeping one hand on the mat, and raise your other arm up above you,” Riley says. “Make sure to breathe in through your core and slowly out of your mouth."
My entire body shakes when I try to keep my balance on one hand while lifting the other toward the ceiling. A drop of sweat drips off my eyebrow and into my eye. I lower my hand that's in the air to wipe it away, my other arm holding me up as I wiggle. My core tightens.
"How's it going?" Riley squats down, her skin glistens like a beautiful angel. Unlike mine.
I let a breath out from my mouth. "If I..." Breathe in, breathe out. "Talk..." My eyes—which I'm sure are giving away how I feel—meet hers. I grit my teeth, and my eyes squeeze shut. I open them back up, and she has a grin on her stunning face.
"Only forty minutes to go," she whispers.
My brows pinch together, and my eyes widen in horror. "What?" I cry out.
I'm going to die—this is how it ends—in hell while I stretch my body in ways that should be illegal. At this point, I don't care if she wins. I want to fall onto this mat, cry out for my mom, and tell her that Riley is bullying me.
Here I was, thinking I would be lying on my back or doing some stretching that would have me touching my toes, not bend like a fucking contortionist. I run and lift weights, so this should have come easily to me. Apparently, it's not when I need to balance two hundred pounds of muscle.
I follow Riley's directions and change pose after pose. Everyone around me has a stupid, peaceful expression, even a smile, and I want to ask them who hurt them. How do they enjoy such misery?
This is what I've resorted to. I wanted to get close to her again, get to where we once were. I would have done anything, but this may be pushing my limits.
Nope. No, do not think like that. You've been doing well so far, so you're going to push through the last ten minutes of this class, and Riley will compliment your ass.
"Alright, everyone, we are going to go into a forearm stand.” Riley’s voice is calm and enduring.
I sit up on my knees, lifting my shirt to wipe off the sweat and tears that cover my face and soak my shirt. When I peer around to see what this forearm stand is, I laugh to myself and look up at the ceiling in disbelief. Everyone places their forearms on their mats while lifting the lower part of their bodies into the air.
"Not happening," I mutter to myself, shaking my head.
I stand up on shaky legs, grabbing my mat to roll it up. Riley stops walking through the rows of people and looks at me. She catches up to me when I reach the door. I can feel the cold through the sliver of the door when I open it, and I feel my soul come back into my body.
"August," Riley whispers behind me. "Where are you going?"
I turn to her and try to not fall on my knees. Her eyes are soft and warm, comforting and concerned.
