I give an easy nod and head in the direction she pointed, lingering a little to take in the studio’s decor on my way. I’ve never been in a yoga studio before, but it looks exactly like I’d expect it to, with pictures hanging on the walls of people standing in poses facing the sun with their palms clasped.

There are two small locker rooms, and I step into the men’s, which has enough space for a few people and a small shower stall in the far corner.

I change into my workout clothes—I don’t own any yoga pants yet, but hopefully what I brought will work—and throw the rest of my stuff in one of the little lockers. There aren’t built-in locks, but no one else is here, so I’m not worried about my stuff going missing.

“This place is really nice,” I tell Hannah when I emerge from the locker room and join her back in the main area.

She glances around the room with a critical eye and nods. “There are a few things I’d change if it was my studio,” she says but doesn’t elaborate, her face taking on a distant expression as if picturing those changes. Then she turns to face me with her arms crossed over her chest and raises her brows at me. “Are you ready to get started?”

I shrug. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. But how does this work? Do I just imitate you or something?”

“You’ve never done yoga before, have you?”

“I mean, I’ve stretched my body into some crazy positions before, but not like this,” I say, and although she glares at me, I don’t miss the hint of blush that appears on her cheeks. I’d give anything to know what memories are playing through her mind right now, but I bite my tongue. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

“Let’s just start with some demonstrations of basic poses,” she says, her tone turning professional. “I’ll show you a few of them, then have you try them out. Think you can handle that?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“We’ll start super basic with mountain pose,” she says, as though it should mean something to me. She spreads her feet apart a bit and rolls her shoulders in circles, letting her hands dangle at her sides.

“That’s it?”

“I told you we were starting super basic.”

“I can handle this,” I say and mimic what she’s doing. She stops to evaluate me, walking in a circle around me, and I feel like I’m under a microscope. Facing down opposing teams and coaches has never made me nervous, but something about Hannah’s appraising gaze makes my skin prickle with awareness.