Hot Mess (LBSC #1) | Completed

Chapter 6

A shrill whistle sliced through my sleep. I opened my eyes and immediately lurched forward in bed, my forehead connecting with a hard object. I shrank back, holding my face. I brought my hands down to find Zoey sprawled on the floor, clutching her head.

She glared at me. "God, Reese! You head-butted me."

"What the hell were you doing?" I exclaimed. I fumbled on the nightstand for my phone. "What time is it?"

She stood up and brushed herself off. It was only then that I realized she was wearing workout clothes. "It's 6:04 a.m. I've been trying to wake you up for the last four minutes."

"Why? I got in bed at three! What the hell is going on, Zoey?" I asked, scowling. Zoey knew I wasn't a morning person. And definitely not after I'd closed the bar.

Zoey lifted a small metal whistle to her lips and blew. "Get up. We're going to be late for yoga."

I frowned at her. "I don't do yoga. And could you stop with the whistle?"

"You do now," Zoey said. She lifted the whistle to her lips again, and I clapped my hands over my ears.

"This is ridiculous. I'm going back to bed."

"Josephine Reese MacDowell, if you don't get up out of this bed right now, I'm done."

"But we haven't even gotten started yet."

Zoey put her hands on her hips. "I know."

I sighed. "What does yoga even have to do with anything?"

"It's the first step in getting to know yourself and developing some discipline."

"Can't I start getting to know myself tomorrow?" I lay down and covered my face with a pillow.

"That's it–"

I lifted the pillow from my face and sat up. Zoey had already turned toward the door. "Fine! I'm up."

****

"I hate you," I hissed out of the side of my mouth. Sweat ran in rivulets down my face. My body trembled as I struggled to hold a pose the teacher called "downward facing dog".

"Shhh!" Zoey hissed back. "You're supposed to be concentrating."

"Bring your right foot next to your right hand at the front of the mat. Back into a low lunge," the lithe, blonde yoga teacher commanded. When I thought of a stereotypical practitioner of yoga, she was it. I hated her perfect body and her chipper attitude. It was way too early and she made the poses look super easy.

I struggled to make the transition. I didn't have any workout clothes, so I was wearing a plain tank top and droopy basketball shorts I'd borrowed from Zoey. Despite my lack of clothing, I was still burning up. When we'd first arrived I was freezing, but with so many bodies in such a small area I quickly warmed up...and then felt like a roasting Thanksgiving turkey. And the smell...ugh. The B.O. wafting through the air and mingling with my sweat threatened to suffocate me.

"Left foot to the front of the mat. Fold into a forward bend. Just let your brains spill out of your head," the teacher said.

Thank God! I folded my body and let myself hang like a limp noodle. I looked behind me around the small studio. There were about ten other people in the class with me, including Zoey. A few of them were blonde and petite like Zoey and instructor, but I had been surprised to see a number of other people of color in different shapes and sizes. Without a doubt I was by far the worst student in the class.

I followed the rest of the instructor's directions, sneaking glances at the clock at the front of the room. I silently prayed for the long hand to speed up its rotation. We went through a few more poses, and just when I thought I was going to tap out, the instructor finally told us to take it to the mat. I gratefully plopped down on my back and closed my eyes.