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seventeen

. . .

Griffin

Spanish class is not going well for me today.

I’m supposed to be conjugating verbs and writing sentences about what I did yesterday, but it’s impossible to concentrate when Avery Sinclair keeps stretching her arms over her head like that.

It’s not on purpose—I know that—but every time she shifts, twisting into her chair or brushing her hair back, I find myself looking. Way too much.

“Knox,” Dr. Peterson says, peering over her glasses. “Care to tell us what you’re working on?”

I snap my eyes back to my notebook, where I’ve written the same line four times: Yo jugo fútbol.

I clear my throat. “Football. I played football.”

“Good to know,” she deadpans. “But maybe try jugué. Past tense.”

Avery stifles a laugh from the seat next to me, and I elbow her under the desk. “Shut up,” I mutter.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she whispers back, her voice sweet. “It’s just hard to watch the great Griffin Knox struggle. You’re usually so perfect. ”

“Careful, Sinclair,” I whisper, smirking. “You’ll bruise my ego.”

She rolls her eyes, but I catch the way her lips twitch—she’s fighting a smile.

When class finally ends, I’m gathering up my stuff when Avery leans toward me. “You know, you should come to the yoga class this afternoon.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Yoga?”

“Yeah. It’ll help with your balance and flexibility. You clearly need it.”

“Flexibility? I’m a Division One tight end, Sinclair. I bench press 350 pounds. I don’t need yoga.”

Avery grins, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Sure. You keep telling yourself that. But it’s a great workout, and I’d pay good money to see you try a downward dog. ”

“Oh, so you do want to see me in yoga pants,” I shoot back.

Her eyes narrow playfully. “Absolutely not.”

“But I get to see you in yoga pants?” I ask, my smirk widening. “Sold.”

She rolls her eyes, but I catch the little grin as she walks out ahead of me, and for a second, I wonder if I’m imagining things.

I should’ve listened to Avery when she warned me. But when do I ever listen?

Now, standing in the middle of the yoga studio in a tank top and athletic shorts, I’m starting to regret all my life choices.

The instructor, Luna, floats into the room like she’s walking on air, her linen pants billowing around her ankles. “Welcome, beautiful souls,” she says softly. “Today, we will journey into peace and unity.”

“Peace and unity,” Jake mutters under his breath. “Bro, you’re screwed.”

I grin. “Oh come on.”

I glance over at Avery, who’s sitting on her mat, already stretching like she’s a seasoned pro. She catches my eye and smirks. “Feeling confident?”

“Confident is my default setting,” I fire back.

Before Avery can respond, a tall girl with blonde hair plops down on the mat next to me, flashing a dazzling smile. “Hey,” she says, twirling her ponytail. “You’re the best tight end in the country, right? Griffin?”

I nod, forcing a polite smile. I’ve seen her on the program before, but we hadn’t met. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“I knew it!” she gushes, leaning a little too close. “I’m Kayla. If you need a yoga buddy, I’m great at helping beginners.”

“Uh, yeah, Kayla. I’ve seen you around. Nice to meet you again, though.”

“Oh, he’s not a beginner,” Avery pipes up loudly, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Griffin’s a natural. ”

Kayla tilts her head. “Really?”

“Nope,” I say quickly, shooting Avery a glare. “She’s messing with you.”

“Right,” Kayla says, brushing it off. “Well, if you need help…”

I smile awkwardly, not even pretending to care. Honestly, I don’t know what it is—Kayla’s nice and all, but I’ve got exactly zero interest. Maybe because I keep looking over at Avery, who’s watching the exchange with a very neutral expression.

“You okay over there, Sinclair?” I ask.

She shrugs. “Just observing.”

“What, jealous?” I tease.

Luna claps her hands softly, her voice like a bell. “Let us begin.”

We start with child’s pose , and I’m already regretting this. My back’s stiff, my shoulders ache, and I can feel Avery’s eyes on me.

“Breathe deeply,” Luna says. “In through the nose, out through the mouth.”

“Enjoying yourself, Knox?” Avery whispers.

“I’ll be fine,” I mutter.

Next, Luna guides us into downward dog , which is somehow both humiliating and painful. My legs are shaking like I’ve never done a squat in my life.

“Is this the same guy who benches 350 pounds?” Avery teases.

“I’m pacing myself,” I shoot back, my arms trembling. “I’ve got a lot of weight to hold up here.”

“You look like you’re dying,” Jake whispers behind me, snickering.

“Shut up, Jake,” I laugh.

Luna glides over to me, her serene smile unshakable. “You are holding resistance, my friend,” she says gently, pressing a hand to my back. “Let go. Breathe.”

“ I am breathing, ” I wheeze.

Avery, of course, is practically glowing in her perfect pose, her face barely hiding her amusement. “Doing great, Knox.”

I glare at her, sweat dripping into my eye. “Don’t encourage me.”

Finally we arrive at Shavasana. Otherwise known as lie on the floor, on your back, and take a nap.

I have never loved a pose more in my life.

I’m sprawled out on my mat, arms and legs splayed, sweat still dripping from every pore. My body feels like it’s been wrung out like a dishrag.

“This,” I whisper loudly to Avery, who’s next to me, looking relaxed and annoyingly composed. “This is the good stuff. I could do this all day. I think I’m a pro.”

She turns her head slightly, glaring at me with one eye open. “Shh.”

“What’s this music?” I ask, equally loud. “It’s so calming. I feel like I’m floating. I need this in my life.”

Avery groans, pressing her hands over her face. “It’s Faith’s Hymn . And you’re supposed to be quiet during shavasana .”

“ Faith’s Hymn, ” I repeat reverently, staring at the ceiling. “Damn. I’m putting this on my playlist immediately. It’s life-changing.”

Jake, from a couple of mats over, hisses, “Bro, pipe down. You’re ruining my zen.”

“Let me enjoy myself,” I whisper back. “I’ve reached nirvana.”

“ Knox, ” Avery snaps under her breath. “You are not reaching anything except my last nerve.”

“Please, no talking during shavasana! ” Luna’s voice is soft but firm, like a gentle wind scolding us. “You’re supposed to be resting your weary souls…and downloading.”

I peek one eye open. Downloading?

“Uh, downloading?” I whisper loudly, raising my hand like I’m back in kindergarten. “What’s that mean? Downloading what?”

Luna glides over, her linen pants billowing like she’s floating. She crouches next to me, her voice reverent. “Downloading. Receiving messages from the universe. Quiet your mind, and you will receive them. Are you receiving anything?”

I stare at her blankly, trying not to laugh. “Uh, I think my signal’s down. I got nothing.”

Avery snorts softly beside me, whispering, “That’s because the universe doesn’t waste its time on you.”

“Or maybe I’m on a delay,” I shoot back under my breath. “You don’t know.”

I close my eyes again, trying to take this seriously. For exactly two seconds.

But the second I try to empty my mind, that’s when it happens—my brain starts downloading.

Not peaceful, meditative thoughts. Not wisdom from the great beyond. No. Instead, I’m downloading images of Avery.

Avery laughing earlier in class, her head tilted back, hair spilling over her shoulders.

Avery stretching on her yoga mat, her tank top riding up just enough to expose a sliver of skin at her waist.

Avery now, lying perfectly still next to me, her chest rising and falling under her shirt in a way that feels so…distracting.

No. Nope. Not now, Knox. Focus.

I roll my shoulders, trying to shake it off.

“Are you receiving anything yet?” Luna asks gently, still hovering nearby.

I crack an eye open and catch Avery smirking at me, her face half-buried in her mat.

“Nothing,” I mutter. “I’m getting…uh…interference.”

When Luna finally rings the little bell to end class, I groan in relief, rolling onto my back and spreading my arms like a starfish.

“That’s it?” I ask, blinking up at the ceiling. “We’re done?”

Luna nods serenely. “We are complete. You have done the work.”

“Best part of the class, hands down,” I say, still sprawled on my mat. “I’d do that all day.”

Avery stands gracefully, shooting me a look. “I’ll make you a deal—you stay in shavasana forever, and I’ll never have to hear you talk again.”

“Deal.”

Jake snickers, already rolling up his mat. “Bro, I think you had a spiritual awakening back there.”

“Awakening, downloading—call it what you want,” I mutter as I sit up, running a hand through my sweat-damp hair. “I’m a changed man. Also, what was that song again? Faith’s Hymn? I’m adding it to my pregame playlist.”

Avery rolls her eyes. “You are not blasting Faith’s Hymn before a football game.”

“Why not?” I grin. “I feel like I could throw 80-yard touchdowns after that.”

Before Avery can respond, Kayla—the blonde who was sitting next to me—sidles up, ponytail swinging. “Hey, Griffin,” she says, all smiles. “Do you have any plans later? A couple of us were thinking of going out.”

I pause, caught off guard. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Avery bending down to grab her water bottle, looking perfectly unbothered.

“Uh…” I scratch the back of my neck. “I?—”

“Actually,” Jake cuts in smoothly, his voice dripping with enthusiasm. “Why don’t we all go out tonight after we get back and shower off? I saw this killer spot downtown—live music, cool vibes. We’ll make it a group thing.”

Kayla blinks, but then nods with a bright smile. “Oh! That sounds great.”

Jake turns to Avery, throwing her an exaggerated wink. “Right, Sinclair? You’re coming, too.”

Avery straightens up, her face neutral as she slings her bag over her shoulder. “Sure. Why not?”

“Knox?” Jake looks at me, smirking like the devil himself.

“Yeah,” I mutter, not looking at anyone in particular. “Sounds good.”

As we head for the door, I linger behind, walking next to Avery.

“You coming out for the vibes, Sinclair?” I ask, nudging her with my elbow.

She arches an eyebrow at me. “Why? Afraid you’ll get lost without me?”

I smirk, stuffing my hands in my pockets. “Nah. Just making sure you don’t cramp my style.”

Her lips twitch, but she keeps walking, her tone flat. “Please. You wouldn’t survive without me.”

I grin, watching her out of the corner of my eye as we step into the late afternoon sunlight. My brain might’ve downloaded all the wrong things back in yoga, but this time, I don’t fight it.