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YOGA CONFESSIONS
Even though I'm shacking up with my smokin' hot mountain man, I still miss my sisters. Don’tget me wrong though, waking up to Jack's scruffy jaw and six pack situation beats triple estrogen morning chaos by all measures. But busting out sun salutations with my favorite girls brings me a special kind of peace.
So, when I breeze into our weekly Saturday yoga class to find both Grace and Aria already sitting cross-legged on their mats, my heart does a happy dance.
“Maddie!” Aria shrieks, torpedoing over for an enthusiastic hug that nearly upends us.
Laughing, I return her koala grip, the smell of her coconut shampoo filling me with nostalgia. “You literally FaceTimed me for outfit advice last night, goofball!” I squeeze her tight.
“I mean in person, dummy,” she scoffs, and plops herself back on her mat.
Grace gives me a calmer embrace. “We miss you, Mads. You’re all downtown cool now, but we have some uptown love for you this morning!”
“Namaste, ladies! Y'all ready to sweat out some stress and find your Zen?” our teacher Brittany calls in her melodic Texas twang from the front as a few other regulars trickle in. We respond in breathless agreement. Between Grace's demanding book edits, Aria's new school stress, and my new job and unconventional living situation, we are primed to downward dog away the chaos.
“Let's start seated. Focus on your roots grounding you,” Brittany cues us, floating gracefully into a lotus pose as the soft music fills the space with dreamy mantras. Soon, we flow fluidly through warrior stretches, crow and tree poses, our breaths matching our movements.
An hour later, after the last inversion, we are gloriously wiped out and laying in well-earned savasana. My limbs feel like hot jelly but in that “ride the flying unicorn over rainbows” type of way. Aria looks blissed out, her limbs star-fished, while Grace somehow retained her poise despite sweaty flyways wisping everywhere.
“Namaste, ladies,” Brittany intones dreamily. As one, we rouse ourselves and stumble laughingly toward the smoothie bar.
“That hip opener flow kicked my sweet butt!” Aria exclaims, scoping out the brightly-colored options on the chalkboard. “I vote we go crazy with Pineapple Peach Perfection.”
“I think I’ll live dangerously and try the Matcha Gladiator,” Grace chimes in, and I decide to try it out too.
Soon, we claim a cozy sofa, sipping on our ice-cold glasses, our worries of the past week cleansed away.
Grace attempts some seriousness as she wipes the green goo off her lip. “So, update time, lady of the hour! How is engaged life unfolding downtown?” She waggles her brows playfully.
“Yes, update time, sista. How's shacked up CEO life going?” Aria sing-songs.
Aria blinks eagerly for the inside scoop as I clear my suddenly dry throat. “Oh, you know, home life with the billionaire boss is very uh . . . educational.” I avoid Grace's shrewd gaze, memories of last week’s very thorough tutorials heating my cheeks.
“Educational?” Aria wrinkles her nose. “Ew, like does Jack make you study programming and stuff?”
I latch onto the subject change, fanning desperately. “Oh yes, lots of that. Gotta know the subject matter to design a well-rounded social media campaign . . . it’s a very rigorous curriculum.”
Grace makes a production of examining the menu while obscuring her silent chuckle and fanning with her hand. I attempt a subtle eyebrow waggle her direction, knowing she interpreted my scarlet face accurately.
While baby sis remains oblivious, now pondering pineapple protein contents out loud, Grace meets my eyes, mouthing “ohmygawd.” Her thumbs-up followed by an exaggerated silent swoon makes me bury my face into a menu too, laughing.
Aria is still babbling about “learning the meat and potatoes of the virtual reality niche” when I frantically wave my hands. “Hey, speaking of learning, how's freshman year going? Made any new BFFs yet?”
Aria pushes her dark framed glasses up, launching into excited chatter about Stuyvesant's awesome intro classes and the cool seniors on the student council she looks up to.
“Ooh, and in Bio, we're going to hatch butterflies from larvae soon!” she gushes. “My lab partner, Simon, seems super smart. He's gonna make sure our butterflies grow healthy with his meticulous notes.”
“Look at you, getting an early start on the science squad!” I give an exaggerated wink her way.
As Aria happily recalls every amazing Stuyvesant detail, I exchange looks with Grace, who shoots me a covert thumbs-up while sipping her mushy green concoction.
“Oh hey, those park dance videos with that guy went bonkers right? I probably watched them a bazillion times!” Aria says. “What’s his name?”
I giggle hearing Aria swoon over my dance collab with Jace. “You seemed to like those moves, huh? What can I say, Jace is talented and not hard on the eye.”
With a dramatic sigh, she props her chin on her hand dreamily. “His moves are just so smooth! Are all famous influencer boys that cute?”
Grace makes loud noises while I hurry to temper her enthusiasm. “I wouldn’t know. But what I do know is that he’s too old for you, girlie! So, keep that crush restricted to likes and comments.” I ruffle Aria's hair, ignoring her protests.
