Yoga
I woke in the dusk of my bedroom with the dim hints of a headache, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to get back asleep. I never really slept well and envied those that I would see head drooping, drool pooling on airplanes and such. It had been 1 week of pouring over the life of one Isabeau McCorrigan and scouting out her haunts. The plan was set. Today was the day though a big difference between the target and I was waking time and so I still had a few hours before I would initiate contact.
After a couple hours of cleaning and reading, I pulled on my tights and sleeveless t-shirt, adjusting and smoothing my high-ponytail in the mirror. With my brand new mat slung over my shoulder, I look the picture of yoga chic. Once in the car, I paused, taking a deep breath. How did I get here? While I never acknowledged it, I knew deep down that something was wrong with me. I blew out a breath. Later.
The yoga studio was a little dingier than in the pictures, but of course, still covered with framed Buddha paintings flanking a large lotus behind the front desk. What the lobby lacked in serenity, the studio itself had with its soothing gray walls and a worn oak floor, its prominent knots and deep scratches the only decor. I’d arrived a little early and check-in was brief so I had time to gather my thoughts while arranging my things in the gestured cubby. Maybe I would take advantage of this opportunity and really get into yoga. It might be good for my neuroses.
Turns out yoga would not be my thing. Despite how I had memorized all the terms and poses in my online research, I had forgotten how unflexible I was. Those beautiful floors did very little to dampen the sound of my skull crashing to the ground, even with my pricey yoga mat running interference. The Koundinyasana I totally got. That pose is deadly. Who can really balance on just their arms like that? The human body was meant to stand on two legs, or to rest on a butt, not balance precariously with one leg extended and the other draped over one of your arms, which was already doing the work of carrying all your weight. The downward dog debacle was just embarrassing though. The one small benefit to my embarrassment was that I felt the piercing dark eyes of one Isabeau Dennis on my reddened face. Even if I had developed a much better plan for drawing the curvaceous brunette’s attention, I certainly had hers and everyone else’s in the studio after careening my face towards the floor on several poses.
I was completely relieved when the instructor soothed out, Savasana and saw everyone relax onto their backs on their mats, closing their eyes in deep breaths. It was the first time in the class where I felt expert at a pose, though the emptying of the mind was yet another failure. My mind was always racing and had been like that since I was a young, constantly following my mom and needling her with endless questions. After the final Namaste, everyone began collecting their things. In a normal situation, I would stealthily sneak out never to be seen again, but the tightness of the job crept back into my shoulders almost instantaneously. I suppose as well that I would never have found myself in a situation of trying something so foreign normally.
I quickly scanned the room for my target and found brown eyes crinkled in amusement and cold black eyes frowning to their left. I dipped my head down with a bashful smile before looking back towards her bright dimpled smile with a silent chuckle. Her friend on the other hand pursed her brow in mild disapproval. Jayla Blackmon was Isabeau McCorrigan’s best friend, an attractive dark-skinned transgender woman, and apparently not a fan of mine. Fuck. Well, at least Isabeau seemed to find me amusing.
I tentatively walked over towards the duo, giving a small wave and half smile to each to confirm my intentions. Pausing briefly as I reached them, I extended my hand to Isabeau, “Hi, I’m Lauren, reject yogi extraordinaire.”
Isabeau gave a small chuckle, but before she could say anything, Jayla flatly grated out, “You did know this was an advanced Vinyasa class right? Your antics were hella distracting.”
“Um…,” I stuttered out.
“Jay! Give the girl a break,” Bo interrupted. She turned a flirty smile towards me, “I am so so sorry. Jay can be a little tense about things. I’m Bo, by the way. Bo McCorrigan.” She took my hand in hers and I felt a warmth engulf me as my breath hitched. Her eyes were so sparkly and I got a little lost in them. While I had seen her photo, it was nothing like being enveloped in the hug of her presence. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever met.
The moment lasted an indeterminate amount of time before Jayla coughed and shoved Isabeau…Bo, aside taking my hand roughly in my own with an abrupt shake and a fake smile. Bo seemed as entranced as I was before she herself fell victim to an abrupt grab from the slim-figure whose long blonde goddess braids were tossed over her shoulder with flare.
“We gotta dash Bo. We’ve got that thing,” Jayla swept out, pulling Bo along with her.
“It was nice meeting you,” Bo rushed out, head turned with a goofy smile plastered on her face.
As they blew out of the room, I was still at a loss for words. Crap. No exchange of cells, little information gained. A failure of a first meet. I sighed deeply, my twinkly eyes quickly shifting into deep brow creases. I could not screw this up. It was my chance out and I needed to refocus and get a grip. I could not let the warm rush of my moment with Bo get in the way, no matter how magical it felt or how I could still feel her soft hand perfectly slotted in mine. Sure I had been attracted to people before, but I had never felt this instant connection before. With my right palm still pulsing with the memory, I grabbed my bag and was one of last to leave the studio.