I crane my neck to look at the clock at the back of the room. Five minutes have passed, and the rest of the class has already rolled up their yoga mats and filed out of the studio.

“It was… wow.” That’s all I can manage.

“You think you’ll come back again?” she asks.

Sunlight pours into the studio through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and I get a startlingly clear vision of myself returning to this spot again and again. I could do this, couldn’t I? I feel peaceful here, similarly to the way I relax when I cook. The steady movement of the class meant my mind never wandered off to Ryan, Hallie, or even the terrible scandal in the news. Instead, I had no choice but to focus on the flow between poses, my breath, and the sound of Sara’s voice. It’s not a stretch to see how I could develop a craving for this, unwinding here at the studio after a long day at Summit. And if just one session already feels transformative for me, I can only imagine how it could help Hallie. Maybe this is exactly what she needs to rein in the anxiety she’s felt lately.

“Yeah, I’ll be back. And next time, there’s someone else I’d like to bring, too.”

Chapter 15

• CHAPTER 15 •

Hallie wrinkles her nose when I tell her about my idea at the end of practice on Monday.

“Yoga? I mean, I already do so much,” she says, looking skeptical.

She’s cross-legged on the floor of the changing room, stretching the white thigh-high socks she got at her friend’s Sweet Sixteen, embroidered with the girl’s initials, up her legs. The thick socks strain over her muscular calves, though, and barely graze her knees. She gives a final tug and gives up. I bet the party wasn’t as fun as she expected it to be; she probably had to say no to the cake and head home early to stick to her sleep schedule.

“But what if you could have private yoga lessons here at the gym?” I counter. “Barely any extra work on your part, and I think it’ll help reduce stress over the next few months.”

“I’m not stressed,” she snaps.

She looks wild, with a cloud of frizz escaping her ponytail at the temples. But then her expression softens. She must understand, on some level, how that’s just not true.

“I’ll try it once,” she agrees. “If Ryan thinks it’s a good idea, too.”

“I’ll talk to him,” I promise.

Hallie shoves her feet into sneakers, stands up, and slings her gym bag over her shoulder.