If The World Ends Tomorrow | ONGOING

𝓈𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑒𝑒𝓃

𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝟸𝟷𝚝𝚑

"This is what you consider fun?" Eden asks, stretching into the cael variation according to the yoga teacher. Neither I nor Eden are anywhere close to doing it right but it's the best we can do.

"To be fair, I didn't think it would be advanced yoga," I grunt, fighting to keep my balance. "Consider it friendship bonding of utmost quality." 

The instructor then tells us to get into the next position, as I watch her do it I already know I won't be able to do it. But that of course doesn't stop me from trying, Eden being a lot smarter than me decides to sit this one out. 

Scorpion pose, the teacher calls it. I rest my forearms against the mat kicking my feet up when I finally gather the courage, for all of 2 seconds I balance.

Then my life flashes in front of my eyes, and I almost snap my neck in half. I'm sure my body position rivals a dead cartoon character after being run over by a car.

No seriously.

"Are you alright?" Eden asks me, leaning over me.

"Perfect," I get up groaning at the pain that shoots up my spine.

Next, we do an easier one, one where we have to put our legs up against each other and hold each other's hands.

 "All things considered, Stranger, you're surprisingly flexible," I note as he keeps his legs relatively straight against mine. 

I've never been too flexible, Jack says it's why I get so many cramps while skating, to be honest, I think I haven't tried to get more flexible to spite him. I've never liked being wrong especially if Jack was on the right side. 

"Are you a secret Olympic gymnast or something?" I doubt it, but I wouldn't put it past him.

"Hockey."

Huh.

I hum. "Really? I wouldn't have taken you for a hockey guy, I would have guessed lacrosse."

I don't know what lacrosse is beyond the fact that it exists.

"Do you know what lacrosse is?" The look he gives me makes me feel like I've been caught doing something I shouldn't.

My cheeks heat. "No, but I heard private school kids play it," I reply. "How long did you play hockey for?"

"6 years."

I whistle. "Did you like it?"

"No." He doesn't even hesitate.

"No?" I ask my curiosity growing. "Then why'd you play it for so long?"

"My dad."

"Let me guess it's a legacy thing." The only things I really knew about rich kids were stuff from shows and almost always the problems for boys at least stemmed from legacy things, and almost everything they did was for legacy reasons.

"It is." He doesn't say more.

Miley Avil, the mayor's daughter is like that, was, in high school everything she did was to measure up to her parents the Mayors, she hated it, she confessed it to me once when she was drunk and I was holding her hair while she threw up. 

She was the first time I realized that maybe having money doesn't make everything easier, or at least it doesn't guarantee you happiness. 

If I were rich I'd like to think my escape would be food and shopping, not alcohol and weed, it sounds stupid, you can be rich and a drunkard.

"I can't imagine spending so many years of my life doing something I don't enjoy," I say as we move into the next position, this one is a lot easier, it was just a simple stretch. "Did you ever like want to run away."