Page 61 of Better Than Revenge
I narrowed my eyes. “Is this about yesterday?” As if I already wasn’t embarrassed enough about what had happened the day before, now he changed our whole training session to take care of theissues he obviously thought I had? “You think I’m too distracted? Too sad? Too preoccupied with Jensen?” Which was ironic, considering Deja thought I was too preoccupied with him.
“No, well…yes. But there are so many other distractions you’ll have to shut out when kicking. The sounds of the crowd in the stands, the coach, the pressure of your teammates counting on you. Everything. You have to learn to shut out the world when you’re staring down the line and driving toward that ball. It’s just you and the uprights. This—” He pointed toward the people that were settling onto mats. “This will help you learn to shut things out and find your focus.”
“You’re annoying,” I said, crossing my arms. But I walked through the barn anyway, toward the class because he was right—I did need to learn to shut out the world. Maybe this would help.
Soft music played through a portable speaker near the instructor. “Find your mats, everyone, and we’ll get started.”
Pellets of goat poop littered the ground as we walked toward two open mats in the back corner of the space. Theo stepped out of his shoes and onto his mat, where he sat cross-legged facing the instructor.
“Have you done this before?” I asked, following suit.
“I have,” he said.
“You have?”
“I told you, kicking takes focus. All of us have distractions, Finley. Not just you.”
I sat down and pulled my hair back into the holder I’d brought. “What are your distractions?” I whispered this because aside from the music and the bleating goats, it was very quiet.
“Right now?” he asked with a smirk. “You.”
My heart thumped heavy in my chest seeming to think he was admitting to something. It took me too long to realize he just meant that I was literally distracting him from yoga in this moment. A goat approached me, pushing its head into my shoulder before bounding off to someone else.
“Can everyone assume Easy Seat,” the instructor said.
I’d never done yoga before, so I watched closely, bending my body into the shapes demonstrated, most seemed to have animal names. I felt clumsy and wobbly as I tried to assume one-legged positions or wide stances. My discomfort came out in breathy laughs and mistakes that turned my cheeks pink. I concentrated hard on each pose, trying to get it right, do it exactly like the instructor showed us. Half an hour of various poses later and I wasn’t succeeding.
Theo, on the other hand, was perfectly focused, his movements confident and strong, even when a goat had bounced off his leg.
“Slowly transition to Warrior Two,” the instructor said.
I copied her position, lunging with my right and turning my back foot, my upper body and arms turned as well. Theo lunged with his opposite leg, probably the correct one, which resulted in us facing each other. He met my stare. His expression was both relaxed and steady, like his body was. He seemed so comfortable here, so comfortable in his own skin doing this. I felt the opposite—out of place and unsure of myself. Ready to abandon the rest of class and go sit in the car. I knew I looked ridiculous, wobbling every couple seconds, trying to ground my feet like the instructor was saying, tighten my core. Nothing was helping. And Theo was still staring.
Stop distracting me,I mouthed.
One side of his lips formed a half smile. And then a goat walked beneath me, between my legs, throwing me off-balance. My arms made wide circles to try to save me, but all they seemed to do was propel me to the ground. I landed straight on my butt, letting out a yelp as I did.
“Sorry,” I said, clamping my mouth shut and scrambling to untangle myself from the goat that was now straddling one of my legs.
Theo rushed to my side to aid me in the process. After what seemed like minutes but was probably seconds, the goat was free and jumping to his next victim.
“You okay?” Theo asked, giving me a hand up.
“I’m unharmed,” I said, hoping all eyes weren’t on me. I refused to look around to find out.
Then the instructor was speaking again. “It’s time to start our cooldown. Can everyone take child’s pose?”
This was a face down position on the mat, knees tucked into chest, arms above the head relaxed.
“I’d like everyone to focus on their breathing,” she continued. “Breathe in all the good energy and happy feelings and positive thoughts. Breathe out negativity and self-doubt and bad energy. Relax each muscle group starting at the tips of your fingers and then your hands and arms, the tops of your heads, your brows, your eyes, your cheeks. Let go. Loosen your neck and shoulders….”
I listened and breathed and relaxed. Let myself feel the weight of my body and how it connected with the earth. A goat climbed onto my back, its hooves digging into my shoulder blades. I tried to shut it out, focus. I was vaguely aware of the instructor thanking everyone for coming. The goat settled in on my back, lyingdown. Now I could feel its little heartbeat, its warm solid body. My forehead on the mat felt heavy, like it would take a lot of effort to lift my head. And why would I when I could just stay here with a goat on my back and forget everything else? All I let my mind think about was my breathing. In and out, my chest rising and falling.
The sound of metal hitting metal, probably the gate banging closed, startled me and the goat and it jumped off. I sat up. Theo was pulling on his shoes.
He smiled at me.
“Did you share my podcast?” I asked, pushing the hair that had come loose from my ponytail out of my face.