The next morning, Debbie woke up feeling refreshed and ready to face the day. She looked over to see Alex curled up on the floor underneath the sheets he was using for a blanket. She couldn't help but smile. She had to admit that he looked kind of cute all snugged up and warm. After a few minutes, she decided to get up and get ready for the day to come.
I can't believe I agreed to a morning yoga class, she thought groggily as she brushed her teeth in the bathroom. Spitting into the sink, she checked her hair in the mirror and grabbed a hair tye, to tie it up into a ponytail. Alex knocked at the door.
"Debbie?" he called. "You in there?"
"Yeah," she called back, "give me a minute."
"No rush!" he said.
Debbie left the bathroom a few minutes later and he ducked in to take care of his own needs. She checked the clock and chuckled. The class wasn't for another forty-five minutes. They had been late arriving to Paris, but apparently they were in plenty of time for a yoga class. She got into her yoga pants and a crop top, and by the time she was ready, Alex stepped out of the bathroom, having ha a quick shower and changed into his gym gear. Debbie raised an eyebrow at him.
Alex looked down at what he was wearing. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"You showered?" she asked. "Before a hot yoga class?"
"Yeah, and?" Alex asked.
"You're going to need another shower soon," Debbie said. "Somebody told me that hot yoga can get sweaty!"
Alex waved her off, and together they made their way to the studio.
"I've never done yoga," Alex said as he and Debbie entered the studio.
It was warm, and there was humidity to the air. The walls were paneled, and when Debbie touched them, they were warm under her fingers. It was strange. Although she had been practicing yoga for a while, she had never done a hot yoga class before. There were so many different types, she just stuck with a regular vinyasa flow.
"I didn't know that," Debbie said, surprised. "Don't you stretch when you're training in martial arts?"
"Yeah," Alex said, scratching the back of his head. "We stretch, we do conditioning exercises, basic combinations. But we don't zone out for an hour and stretch. We certainly don't dress like this." He gestured to the shorts and t-shirt he was wearing. Debbie had been to several of his martial arts classes, and she understood. He was probably used to wearing something that covered him up.
Debbie looked around the studio. They were the only ones there, aside from a couple of others. All of them were wearing shorts and form-fitting tops.
"Form is really important in yoga," Debbie explained. "That's why people tend to show up half-naked."
Alex pursed his lips and nodded. While they waited for the class to start, they each grabbed a sleek rubber mat and set themselves up in the back of the class. Debbie also grabbed some cork blocks and a strap for each of them. She was flexible, but she didn't know what kind of positions this teacher would have them in. Her "Lord of the Dance" pose was sorely in need of work.
"Did you look up this teacher?" Alex asked.
"No," Debbie said. "Why?"
Alex shrugged. "If I'm doing a class with a new martial arts teacher," he said, "I always do an online search. I want to know who I'm getting, their methodology, their previous experience and training. Everything."
Debbie blinked at him. "That's thorough of you," she said. "When I go to a yoga class, I want to do yoga."
"I guess that's the difference between you and me," he said. "Between martial arts and yoga, anyway."
Debbie bristled. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.
"Nothing," Alex said, sitting in a cross-legged position. "Martial arts and yoga are just different, and I like that you're able to trust a completely new teacher."
Debbie pinched the bridge of her nose. She was in a kneeling position with a bolster between her legs to support her.
"All I know," she said, trying to remain calm, "is that this woman's name is Enid. When I asked the concierge, she said that Enid has been the resident yogi at this hotel for the last five years and has been a professional yogi for at least twenty."
Alex's eyes widened. "Twenty years? That's a long time to be teaching!"
Debbie nodded. "You think?"
"Well," Alex said. "She's got to have some good experience behind her if she's been able to go for twenty years!"
Debbie suddenly remembered something. "Oh! The concierge also said that she's American."
"An American yogi in Paris?" Alex wondered aloud. "Interesting. I wonder what journey brought her here and kept her here for five years.
Debbie shrugged and said nothing more. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths to prepare herself for the class. When she opened her eyes, she saw a tall woman wearing pink leggings and a black crop top walk into the studio. She had blonde hair which was dyed black at the ends, and she was wearing makeup.
That surprised Debbie. Why was she wearing a full face of makeup to a yoga class? Wasn't this woman worried that it would come off with sweat?
As Debbie was pondering these questions, the woman paused and surveyed the class. She went up to individuals and chatted softly with them, presumably catching up. Debbie began to wonder who this woman was. When the woman's dark blue eyes rested on Debbie and Alex, she smiled warmly, and came towards them.
The woman squatted down and looked between the two of them.
"Welcome to the practice," she said in a light, airy voice. "My name is Enid. It's wonderful to meet you."
Debbie blinked in surprise.
"Hello, Enid," Alex said, sounding surprised. "You're certainly not what I expected."
Enid chuckled. "Let me guess," she said, bringing her hands to prayer in the middle of her chest, "you assumed, based on my name, that I would be at least twice my current age, with gray hair, and some wrinkles?"
Alex and Debbie paused, then they nodded in unison. Debbie blushed. She had been expecting someone in her late fifties at the youngest. Enid the yogi looked to be more around their age, perhaps in her early thirties.
That drew out another laugh from Enid. "Don't sweat it," she said, smiling. "I get it a lot. To be honest, it's actually quite fun to subvert those expectations. I like my name, but I'll reflect the expectations soon enough."
"Well," Debbie said, "it's a pleasure to be here. The concierge said you're amazing."
Enid looked at Debbie and gave her an appraising look.
"You're a yogi," she said, cheerfully. "You've been practicing for a while."
Debbie nodded. "Yeah," she said, then pointed to Alex. "This is his first time. He's a little nervous."
Alex gaped. "I am not nervous!" he said, aghast.
Enid turned her appraising eyes to him. She took a long time looking at him. Far too long, Debbie thought. Far longer than was, certainly, professional.
When Enid was done looking Alex over, she said, "It's not often I get muscular men in my class."
That took Alex by surprise. He looked at Debbie, as if for help. She opened her mouth, but she couldn't think of anything to say. Instead, she shrugged helplessly, and Alex turned back to Enid.
"Thank you?" he asked, clearly unsure if Enid had been complimenting him. "I'm a martial artist. I've never actually needed to do yoga before. I get plenty of exercise."
"Yes," Enid said, nodding. "I can see that. Well, I think you'll find that yoga can be beneficial, and what you learn here can be applied to your martial arts training. Among other things." She winked at him, then stood up and walked away.
Debbie and Alex stared after her, unsure of what to make of the whole thing. They exchanged a glance, and Alex burst out laughing.
"What's so funny?" Debbie asked, surprised by the shock in her voice. There was also a sharp feeling in her gut that felt familiar, but which she couldn't name.
Alex looked up at her, grinning. "I think she was flirting with me," he said, with more than a hint of pride in her voice.
The sharp feeling in Debbie's gut grew. It felt like someone had smacked her in the abdomen with a hammer, and she wanted to be sick.
I'm jealous, she realized. My ex-boyfriend is being hit on, right in front of me, by a very attractive yoga teacher, and I'm jealous!
She shook away the thoughts and returned Alex's smile. "Oh yay," she said, "good for you."
Alex gave her a smug, knowing smile, as if he could read the jealous thoughts that rampaged through her head.
"You seem a little tense," he said, puffing out his chest.
"Tense?" she asked in a sharp voice. "Who said anything about tense? I am cool as a cucumber, baby!"
Debbie cringed as the words left her mouth.
Before Alex could reply, Enid called the class to attention by clinging together a pair of bell chimes. The entire class went silent and turned to her. She was sitting cross-legged at the head of the room, her eyes half-open, and her hands on her knees.
"Good morning, everyone," she said. "Thank you for waking up and taking the time to join me for practice this morning." She picked up a small black remote control. "Today's class will be hot, as usual. If you will all start taking deep breaths, I'm about to engage the heating elements."
Enid pressed a button on the remote control. A few moments later, the room began to warm up. Sweat broke out across Debbie's skin, and she began taking deep breaths. Then, Enid pressed another button, and the room started to fill with steam. Alarmed, Debbie looked around, but Enid had already started the class. Relaxing music was playing, and she was instructing the class to follow her in a sun salutation.
Hot and steamy yoga, Debbie thought as she got to her feet in mountain pose. What the hell is going on?
As the class progressed, she thought she could see Enid passing glances in Alex's direction as he fell awkwardly into the postures. Debbie tried her hardest not to sigh or whimper. Debbie also found that she was watching Enid intently, trying to one-up her with every posture.
The feeling of jealousy only grew, threatening to overtake Debbie.
By the end of the class, all she could think was, back away Enid, Alex is mine!