Page 12 of Rachel Weiss's Group Chat
The last thing I recalled was going into downward dog. Yes, it was coming back to me. The teacher had kept spouting these yoga words that apparently meant something to everyone else because they all knew what to do. I could barely see past the sweat pouring into my eyes, but I did my best to copy the poses. We went into downward dog; I checked the clock on the wall and saw that we still had half an hour left. Then the music changed from gentle wind instruments to something with a pumping beat. I was really feeling it. I threw myself into the moves with the fervor of an exercise convert. The flow got faster and faster and culminated in something called… eagle pose? I was a vertical pretzel, my heartpounding painfully, my spandex soaked through. I remembered wondering how I was going to unpretzel myself. And then I woke up here—buck naked. Lordy. Had I contracted heat stroke and heaved my flaming-red body through the streets of Fremont for all to see? I could only hope that wasn’t the case. I checked my phone for clues. Nothing, aside from a message from Amy asking how the yoga class had gone.
I typed a reply as fast as my dehydrated fingers would allow.
Rachel Weiss 2:29 PM:
I HATE YOU ALL. WHY DIDN’T YOU WARN ME?
Sumira replied with, in my view, unnecessary snark.
Sumira Khan 2:30 PM:
Warn you about what? That hot yoga is hot?
Rachel Weiss 2:31 PM:
I’m lucky to be alive.
Eva Galvez 2:33 PM:
What happened?
As I told them my tale of highly public woe, I gulped down water from the bottle on my nightstand. The hydration made me feel alive again.
Eva Galvez 2:40 PM:
I’m glad you’re okay.
Sumira Khan 2:40 PM:
You can never go back to that yoga studio, lol.
Amy McDonald 2:41 PM:
Are you going to be all right for your date with Stephen tonight?
Rachel Weiss 2:42 PM:
Oh yes. In fact, I think tonight might be his lucky night.
By eight o’clock, I was back to my usual level of perfection, though still a bit dehydrated. My curls were bouncy, my winged eyeliner was on point, my crop top and high-waisted jeans were on. I even had the yoga glow! My skin was sort of shimmering with health, as though my little blood cells were all working hard and… whatever it is blood cells do. Perhaps the hot yoga wasn’t such a terrible idea.
I got to the Backdoor exactly on time, but Stephen wasn’t there yet. I ordered a gin and tonic and got a table facing the door. After a few minutes, I became uncomfortably aware of my aloneness, so I messaged the group chat, asking Amy how she was doing. She admitted to being holed up in the bedroom watching a Katherine Heigl movie while Ryan and his friends playedAssassin’s Creed. Then she added,
Amy McDonald 8:22 PM:
Is Stephen not there yet? 20 minutes late?
I stashed my phone back in my purse and slurped the rest of my gin and tonic. I was halfway off my stool, about to order another drink, when he arrived. And damn it if his swagger, his leather jacket, and his smirk didn’t make me forget just how long he’d made me wait.
“How was he?” Sumira asked in an excited whisper. We were at Bellefleur, shopping for lingerie for Amy. I plucked a fire engine–red teddy off the rack and considered it.
“Pretty decent.” Sumira and Eva just looked at me, so I added, “Bit small.”
Sumira burst out laughing, then covered her mouth at a look from the saleswoman. “Oh, I can’t wait to see him at work, knowing that about him.”
I replaced the teddy on the rack and examined a black lace bra. “I also threw up on his bath mat.”
Sumira wrinkled her nose and Eva gagged.
