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ARYA

“Oh my God!” Everly cries.

I grab my board and rest my forearms on it, staring at Harrison. I’m befuddled. And cold.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “I am so sorry.”

The class is totally disrupted now. Everyone is murmuring and making shocked noises. I don’t even know what to say. This has never happened to me. “I’m fine,” I say through clenched teeth. “Wet, obviously.”

“I’m really sorry,” he says again, and he does look contrite. “You can blame him.” He jerks his head at the guy who made the anal joke.

That guy gives me a guilty grimace. “Sorry.”

I blow out a breath and turn my glare back on Harrison. I’d like to tear a strip off him, but that’s not what yoga is supposed to be about. Peace. Oneness. Harmony. I am capable of anything. Also, he does look really sorry. I take another breath and relax my body, including my face. “Are you able to continue with the class?” I ask him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says quickly. “For sure. Uh, are you?”

I roll onto my paddleboard and strip off the thin zip-front hoodie I’m wearing. I drop it to the board behind me. “Yes.” I find my center and stand, now in my wet sports bra and yoga shorts. My hair’s in a ponytail, which is good, although it’s dripping water down my back. Shivering, I gaze around at the group. “Sometimes you need yoga. Sometimes you need a beer.” I pause. “Sometimes you need both.”

Laughter ripples through the morning air.

“Let’s resume.” I keep my voice calm, a half-smile on my face. “One more time... exhale, fold forward... inhale, reach up.” I hold that pose for a few seconds. I am capable of anything. “Exhale, fold forward, and bring your hands to the board as we squat down and bring the right foot back.”

This time there are no smart-ass comments from the peanut gallery. I survey the group to see how everyone’s doing, including Harrison. His face more serious, he seems focused on the pose.

“You want two ninety-degree angles with your legs,” I continue, moving my knee and foot into the correct position and watching the others. “Good. Coming up into Half Warrior...” I lift my arms and stretch them out in front of me. “Shoulders back... inhale... and lift the arms up.”

I sense Harrison’s gaze on me. Which is weird, because almost everyone in the class watches me to see how I do it, but I feel his eyes on me. I say the next words, just waiting for his reaction. “Lift your heart to the sun.”

He stretches his arms up and lengthens his torso, not making any jokes. How about that.

Sweet smiling Jesus, he has an amazing body. Although a bit tight. If we were in the studio, I’d be setting a hand in the small of his back, making adjustments to his pose.

We go through the rest of the class without incident. “Let’s finish up with a nice Child’s Pose.” I stretch my arms out in front of me on the board. “Let your body melt into the board.”

I follow my own advice, shutting out the rest of the class, particularly that one guy with the naughty-boy smile and hot body, letting my muscles relax, tension seep out of me. I focus on the gentle movement of the water beneath me, my breathing, the warmth of the sun on my back.

Class is over and we all paddle back to shore. This basin is quiet and calm, perfect for my classes. I’m so lucky that Taj has his paddleboard business here and I get to piggyback onto that.

I have another class in my studio at noon, so I head toward the change room so I can put on dry clothes and dry my hair. As I approach the change room, Harrison steps in front of me.

“I want to apologize again,” he says earnestly.

He has amazing blue eyes.

“I didn’t intend for that to happen, it was an accident, and I’m really sorry that we disrupted your class.”

“It’s fine. Forgiveness and letting go are an important part of yoga.”

He studies my face. “That’s very... generous of you. We were assholes.” He scrunches up his face. “Sorry.”

I have to smile now. “It’s okay, I may have thought that myself. But exhalation is the act of letting go.”

“Could I take you out for a drink... or dinner? To make it up to you?”

I blink. “That’s not necessary.”

“I know it’s not, but I’d like to.” His smile is genuine and open.

Getting hit on by customers is not usual, since my classes are made up of mostly women, although it has happened. I don’t date anyone , never mind customers, and especially not men I don’t know. For a moment, I’m tempted... that unpretentious smile, those warm eyes focused solely on me... he’s making it hard, but I just can’t. “I’m sorry, but no.”

“Oh.” His face clouds. “Everly said she thinks you have a boyfriend.”

What? “No,” I say before I can stop myself.

His eyes brighten. “Okay, then!”

“But I can’t go out with you.”

Disappointment tugs at his lips again. He opens his mouth to say something more, and I sense he’s going to try to persuade me. My fingers and toes tingle as adrenaline surges through my body, my stomach clenching. “I have to go.”

I bolt into the ladies’ changing room and shut the door behind me. My heart knocks in my chest, and for a moment I wish I could lock the door behind me. There are other women in the room, though.

I am brave.

I lift my chin and smile, making my way to the locker in the back where I keep my things. My insides knotted, my skin clammy, I fake a calm that I don’t feel as I change into a pair of cropped yoga pants and a top. Then I head to the counter and mirrors along one wall to dry my hair.

I convinced Taj to let me make some improvements to this changing room, so it didn’t look like the marina bathroom it once was. I added a couple of hair dryers and a few feminine accessories. It’s not the ideal setup, but it works for the classes I do here.

Breathe in courage... breathe out doubt.

Harrison Whoever is probably harmless, and I probably could have gone out for one drink, and it probably would have been fun... but I’m still uneasy about doing that.

When I exit the changing room, I find Everly still hanging around. The man with her is the one who made the joke that caused Harrison to fall into the ocean. She approaches me, and he’s a couple steps behind her. Big guy, very handsome.

“Arya,” she says. “I’m so sorry about the class.”

I smile at her. I like Everly. She’s been coming to my class for a while, along with her friend Taylor, and she’s always been into it and respectful of the practice. “No need for you to apologize.”

“He’s my brother,” she says. “Harrison.” She rolls her eyes. “I convinced him to come that first time, so I feel responsible for his antics.”

“You’re not responsible for anyone but yourself.”

“You’re so sweet. You handled that amazingly well.”

“ I apologize,” the guy with her speaks up. “I’m Wyatt.” He extends a hand and I shake it. “We shouldn’t have been joking around like that.”

“I told your... Harrison that it’s fine. I’ve let it go.” I smile. “Shit happens.”

They both let out surprised laughs. “It does,” Everly agrees.

“It’s healthy to find the humor in things,” I add, smiling. “I need to get to my next class.”

“Do you have a business card?” Everly asks.

I blink. “Yes.” I move over to the counter and pluck one from the holder. “Here you go.”

No idea why she wants it, but whatever.

“Thanks. See you next week.”

Is she going to bring her brother again? Crap.

It doesn’t matter. I am capable of anything.

* * *

Taj and I are sitting on the patio at The Golden Fish on the Venice Boardwalk later that day. The tables are wooden, the sun is low over the ocean, and we’re with some of Taj’s friends, Arlo, Indigo and Janey, who are now my friends too. Taj’s boyfriend Ziggy owns this place, so we hang out here a lot. It’s got that casual beach vibe, cool and laid-back, with the scent of ocean and sun-warmed sand mingling with coconut sunscreen and marijuana. Lots of marijuana.

I sip my beer, one of the many interesting choices Ziggy has on tap here. Taj is drinking kombucha with Longboard lager. I’ve finished off my tuna poke bowl, which was delicious.

I look around as Taj and Arlo talk about the beach cleanup they’re organizing for next weekend.

I can’t believe I’m living here.

This is so far from home. Back in Fargo, North Dakota, the snow might be melting... or they might be having a late season blizzard. I’m letting the sun warm my face, sitting near the Pacific Ocean, listening to Hozier, drinking a delicious beer. I let out a long, slow breath of peace.

It might sound weird, but sometimes I get homesick, no matter how wonderful it is here. We all complained about the snow and cold, but weirdly, there are moments I miss it. And I miss my family. But life is good here. Uncomplicated. Relaxed. Chill.

Maybe a wee bit boring, but that’s my own fault. I’m learning to take bigger steps, bigger risks. Not like skydiving or anything, just... small risks.

“Tell these guys about your class today,” Taj says to me with a grin.

I shake my head, smiling ruefully. “I got dumped in the water.”

Arlo, Indigo, and Janey laugh, Janey’s eyes going wide. “No!”

“Some guys were joking around, and one of them laughed so hard he fell in.” I pause. “Actually, I was having a hard time not laughing myself.”

“What did they say?”

I repeat Harrison and Wyatt’s comments and everyone cracks up.

“So, he’s flailing around in the water, knocks into my board, and I go in too.” I roll my eyes, still smiling. “Oh my God, I was in shock! I couldn’t believe that just happened.”

“Why are they coming to your class if they’re just going to fuck around?” Indigo frowns and flicks her black hair off her face.

“Yeah, I don’t know. This guy’s been before. His sister is one of my regulars, I guess she convinced him to come, but clearly he’s not really into yoga.” I pause. “He wanted to take me out to dinner to make up for it.”

“Ah!” They all react with the same knowing nod.

I frown. “What?”

“He’s just trying to get your attention,” Janey says. “That’s why he’s acting out.”

“That’s probably why he came to your class,” Indigo adds.

He was flirting with me and trying to impress me, but I doubt that was the reason he was there. “We’re not in grade school,” I mutter. “He doesn’t need to pull my hair or snap my bra strap to get my attention.”

They all laugh.

“You obviously turned him down.” Taj nudges me with his elbow.

“Of course I turned him down.” Taj knows better than anyone why that is.

“Seriously, though...” He regards me with a notch of worry between his eyebrows and touches my shoulder. “You were okay after falling in?”

“Oh yeah. Fine. Good thing I can swim!” I appreciate his concern. He’s a good friend.

“That would be important if you’re doing classes on the water,” Arlo says with a grin.

“Let me know if you need me to hang around or get rid of him if he shows up again,” Taj adds.

I want to deal with life on my own. But it’s definitely comforting to know there’s someone close by who’s got my back if I need it.

We have one more beer. The Edison lights strung around the patio glow as the sun lowers below the horizon and the music gets a little louder. It’s Saturday night in Venice and crowds of people are still walking along the boardwalk, taking in the little shops and bars. Arlo and Indigo head out first. I watch them walk out, heads close together, Arlo’s arm around her shoulders. They’re such a sweet couple. Then Janey leaves too. I hug her goodbye.

“Bike ride tomorrow?” she says.

Sundays I have no classes. “Sounds good.”

“I’ll text you.”

Ziggy saunters over and takes a seat at our table across from Taj and me. “Hey,” he says, with a special smile for Taj.

Another sweet couple. I’m happy for my friend that he’s found someone so great here in California. He went through some shitty relationships in college. It gives me a flicker of hope that there’s someone for everyone, but after what I went through, I don’t know how I’ll ever have the guts to take a chance again.

* * *

Monday afternoon I’m riding my bike to Prana when my phone rings in my backpack. I don’t stop to answer it. It’s most likely a call about SUP yoga class hours or fees, even though all the information is on my website.

At Prana, I lock up my bike outside on one of the racks. A lot of customers use bikes as transportation, so we accommodate that. I carry my backpack inside.

The studio is housed in an old building with exposed brick walls, high ceilings, and dark hardwood floors, but it’s been modernized with fresh coats of paint inside, new lighting, private showers, and cellphone lockers. The main floor has a small retail area with big windows looking onto the street, one studio, and the showers and lockers. A new open staircase leads to the second floor, where two more studios are located, as well as the teachers’ lounge, where I now head.

I drop my backpack onto a couch and sit beside it to pull my phone out. There’s a voice mail, so I tap the button to take me there and listen while I toe off my running shoes.

It’s from someone I don’t know and it confuses me a bit. The guy’s name is Gary Jones, and he works for the Condors. I don’t know what the Condors is. Are. They want someone to give private yoga classes for the team.

Is this a new kind of corporate team building? Surely they only want one class. I don’t really know how I’d make yoga a team-building exercise; that’s not my thing.

I listen to the message again, trying to make sense of it.

Oh, wait—the Condors . The hockey team. I do know what that is. Hockey’s a popular sport in North Dakota. I went to a lot of games at UND. I wasn’t so much into NHL games, but once some friends and I went up across the Canadian border to watch a Jets game in Winnipeg.

Okay, the Condors want their own yoga instructor.

Yoga for hockey players? I grin. That’s... crazy.

I don’t have time to deal with this right now since I’m teaching classes right away.

Later, when I’m home and Taj is there helping me make Mediterranean quinoa bowls, I tell him about the voice mail.

“Holy shit.” He pops a slice of cucumber into his mouth and chews. “That’s so amazing, Ari!”

“Is it? I guess it is. How on earth did they get my name?”

He shrugs. “Google?”

That seems doubtful to me. “I can’t do it. I don’t know anything about yoga for hockey players! And honestly, teaching a class in front of thirty big goons kind of scares the crap out of me. I don’t think I can do that.”

He nods slowly, eyes thoughtful. “I get it. But it sounds like a great opportunity. You want more work.”

I scrunch my face up. “I do.”

“Let me hear the message.”

I replay it on speakerphone so he can hear.

“I don’t know much about hockey, but sounds legit.” He rubs his stubbled chin. “It would be at least worthwhile talking to him about it.”

“It would be a waste of his time. I should just tell him no.”

“I know you’re scared.” He grabs my hand.

I meet his eyes.

“But you keep saying you need to take bigger steps. Take some risks. Why not try this? It’s a professional sports team.”

“Oh yeah, like professional athletes don’t have any issues of domestic abuse.”

He winces. “Okay, maybe there have been a few instances. But not every player is an asshole. And this is a class. A whole bunch of people.”

“I know.” I sigh. “This just seems way out of my comfort zone.”

“I get that. But you know how you grow and heal and get stronger, right?”

“Yes,” I mutter, then recite, “I love taking risks.”

He laughs. “That doesn’t sound convincing.”

It’s one of my fearless affirmations, and he’s right. “I am capable of anything,” I say aloud, sounding surer of myself.

“Yes, you are.” He pulls me in for a hug. “Do it.”

“I’ll think about it.”

We finish making dinner and eat in front of the TV, watching a local news show. After we’ve eaten, I get out my laptop and start googling. I’m curious about how yoga would help hockey players. I mean, I think yoga helps everyone, but how would it benefit specifically these athletes?

Stress reduction. Reducing inflammation. Breathing. Sleep. Okay, yeah. I can cover all that.

Flexibility. Mobility. Balance. I nod as I read.

I find a blog by a woman who teaches yoga to the Pittsburgh Penguins. Okay, this is a real thing. I read about hockey injuries and strength training. While yoga can build strength, I don’t see it as valuable for professional athletes for that; I’m sure they’re already strong. But I can certainly see that there would be great benefits from adding it to a strength-and-conditioning plan.

Groin and hip flexors... oh yeah. There are a number of poses that will help with that, opening up the hips and strengthening groins and adductors. Warrior 2 for balance. Absolutely. Balance must be incredibly important for hockey players. And strengthening shoulders for protecting them when they get checked into the boards.

I read about structural imbalances, stability and range of motion.

I look away from my monitor and stare at the wall, imagining a class full of hockey players. It makes me nervous... but it also intrigues me. Being able to help athletes who are in top physical condition be even better... of course that appeals to me.

Wasn’t I just thinking the other day that life is good... but a little boring? I enjoy what I’m doing right now, but it’s not enough for forever. I’ve thought about expanding Makara into a full-time business, maybe hiring other instructors, offering different types of classes. And my goal in moving here to California and starting a new career was to expand my limits. To be brave and confident and in control of my life.

Can I do this?

I nibble my bottom lip.

“What are you thinking about?” Taj is kicked back on the couch, bare feet on the coffee table, still watching TV.

I wrinkle my nose. “Yoga for hockey players.”

He smiles. “Good.”

I pull air in through my nose and let it slowly out . I breathe in courage and breathe out doubt. If it doesn’t kill me, it makes me stronger.

I’ll call back Gary Jones in the morning. Aaaaah!