Page 114 of Be Your Anything
“It was fucking amazing is what it was,” Paige says, awkwardly dancing across the room and over to where I clutch the bottle in my hand. “Though ‘You can go fuck yourself’sounds more like six words.”
I laugh, feeling a little shell-shocked at myself.
It felt amazing. It did. Telling Lucas to go away. Asserting myself when for so long I’ve been the one to just sway in whatever direction his breeze was willing to take me.
Paige turns on some music, gets me to start dancing around, and calls me a bad bitch.
But the tequila rests heavy in my gut, and I can’t help but wonder what will happen next.
When Paige and I crawl into my bed later that evening, a little bit drunk and a whole lot exhausted, I can’t turn my mind off. It keeps replaying his words over and over.
I don’t find rest until the sun begins to brighten the sky.
CHAPTER24
LENNON
I breathe in deeply, trying to push away my hangover as I settle into child’s pose.
We’ve been at this for over thirty minutes and I feel no more relaxed than I did when I woke up this morning, makeup smeared on my face and the nasty taste of tequila filling my dry mouth.
“Make sure you rest your forehead on the mat. Give yourself a moment to realign. Feel your breath, feel the oxygen entering your body.”
Tegan changes poses in front of us.
“Alright, inhale and exhale. Then come through, extend your legs, rise into upward facing dog, and then release into downward.”
Paige and I follow her directions, though I notice she seems to feel as messed up as I do if the bags under her eyes are any indicator.
“Alright, step through and then relax yourself back into your shavasana.”
Finally, we’re lying flat on our backs, and I feel all my muscles relax even though my head is still throbbing.
“You know, I feel like my shavasana got lost after margarita number three last night,” Paige says.
I giggle. “Ow. Don’t make me laugh. My head hurts.”
But then we keep giggling, unable to stop even when Tegan gives us a look.
“Sorry, Tegan,” Paige finally says, lifting up onto her knees as our instructor shuts off the meditative music that was playing listlessly in the background. “Last night was rough.”
She merely puts her hands together into a prayer pose. “Ladies, you know I am always happy to provide you with guidance, whether you’re fully focused or struggling with distraction.”
“Thanks, Tegan,” I make sure to add as Paige pulls me to my feet.
Tegan bows her head and then begins to roll up the yoga mats.
“Let’s grab a juice or something,” Paige says, leading me off of the back patio and into the kitchen. “I’m in the mood for a good juice cleanse. Have you heard about anything recently?”
I pick up the fresh carafe of orange juice that is waiting for us on the kitchen counter, pouring some in a glass for myself and downing half of it quickly.
“I don’t do cleanses,” I reply, opening a cabinet in the corner that contains a store of medications and supplements. I stare at the rows of bottles for a while, exhaling in relief when I see the little red and white container. “My mom had a bad experience once and she made me promise if I ever had an eating disorder, I’d never go on a juice cleanse.” Then I chuck the pills in my mouth and swallow them with more of the delicious OJ.
Paige groans. “I wishmymom had taught me stuff like that instead of always commenting on how I looked so swollen or saying my legs were too short for my body.” She rolls her eyes and then takes another sip of her juice.
“Well, I think your body isperfect,” I say. “Besides, everyone knows the best things come in small packages.”
“Unless it’s an actual small package, if you know what I mean,” she says, dramatically elbowing me in the side.
