Read Online A Chance for Sunny Skies by Eryn Scott - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Eryn Scott
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moving, stretching, and breathing. At least, the rest of the class was. Me? I flopped, grunted, shook, and sweated. But I was making it through. Sort of.
Every time we got into a position, Lizzy would pop over and try to help me. Try being the operative word.
"Um, stick your butt out and then tuck your pelvis forward," she'd say.
My brain felt fried. What? Weren't those two things complete opposites? I attempted to follow her cues, but my body and I weren't communicating very well because I'd try to fix my pelvis and my leg would go all wonky. Straightening my arms put my back out of position.
"Open your chest, Sunny."
I almost yelled out, "How?"
Lizzy tried, she really did. She used her hands to push and pull me into position, saying, "Don't worry, it'll come with time. Your body isn't used to moving like this yet."
So I kept trying, kept listening, kept attempting to make the small adjustments without falling on my face.
That's when it happened. I felt my stomach groan in complaint and my evil fibrous breakfast cereal betray me as it started moving. Oh no. I tried clenching my cheeks together. I couldn't fart in a yoga class. It was too small of a space. Plus it was all hot in there and everyone was breathing hard. They'd be forced to inhale the smell. It was the perfect storm of awful fart-scenarios.
As if the universe knew, as if maybe it had been trying to drown me and it was still out to get me, at that moment Lizzy commenced the twisting portion of the class. Holy holding-it-in, Batman. I wasn't going to make it. My eyes flew to the curtain. Were people allowed to leave during a class to go to the bathroom? I hadn't seen anyone do anything other than follow Lizzy's directions to a T the whole time I'd been in there.
Then there was the possibility standing up might make it worse. This wasn't sitting in a chair by a long shot. This involved heaving my body off the floor. That alone could be the clincher, or in this case, the un-clencher. After a few twists and a lot of going over "what if" scenarios in my head, I finally decided on just waiting it out. Staying put had to be better. Plus, if I got up now everyone would know the new girl had to use the bathroom so bad she couldn't wait. They'd all know what I left for. Heck, they might even be able to hear what happened in the bathroom. That settled it.
So I went through the rest of the class, the twisting portion, flopping, grunting, shaking, sweating, and now clenching, too. At least I was working my muscles, right? After what felt like three hours, we started the cool down, stretching part.
"Hold onto the bottoms of your feet as you move into Happy Baby," Lizzy said.
The name put a smile on my face. Happy Ba-- Oh no. I watched as Rainy laid on her back and pulled her feet forward. Even though I couldn't argue with the yoga gods that it did look a lot like an actual happy baby, at the moment it seemed like an even better name would be The Farter. How was I supposed to hold anything in like that?
I hesitated. My legs just flopped down on the mat as if my body protested the idea, too. Even my limbs knew this was a bad idea. I closed my eyes.
"Did you need help, Sunny?" Lizzy's bare feet padded up next to me. I kept my eyes shut and shook my head. Then I brought my legs up along side my body (well, as far as they would go, which wasn't far). Lizzy's footsteps moved to the other side of the room and I breathed a sigh of re--
A fart echoed through the room.
My legs shot forward like an arrow. Heat wound its way up my neck and face. I didn't want to open my eyes, so I just sat there waiting for the laughter to start, for the smell to waft through the room, for them to kick me out. Instead, all I heard was, "Excuse me" from some lady in the corner.
My pulse slowed instantly. It hadn't been me. I smiled and pulled my legs up again. I wasn't the farter! I almost laughed out loud, but then I realized that would have been rude because no one else laughed or made
Every time we got into a position, Lizzy would pop over and try to help me. Try being the operative word.
"Um, stick your butt out and then tuck your pelvis forward," she'd say.
My brain felt fried. What? Weren't those two things complete opposites? I attempted to follow her cues, but my body and I weren't communicating very well because I'd try to fix my pelvis and my leg would go all wonky. Straightening my arms put my back out of position.
"Open your chest, Sunny."
I almost yelled out, "How?"
Lizzy tried, she really did. She used her hands to push and pull me into position, saying, "Don't worry, it'll come with time. Your body isn't used to moving like this yet."
So I kept trying, kept listening, kept attempting to make the small adjustments without falling on my face.
That's when it happened. I felt my stomach groan in complaint and my evil fibrous breakfast cereal betray me as it started moving. Oh no. I tried clenching my cheeks together. I couldn't fart in a yoga class. It was too small of a space. Plus it was all hot in there and everyone was breathing hard. They'd be forced to inhale the smell. It was the perfect storm of awful fart-scenarios.
As if the universe knew, as if maybe it had been trying to drown me and it was still out to get me, at that moment Lizzy commenced the twisting portion of the class. Holy holding-it-in, Batman. I wasn't going to make it. My eyes flew to the curtain. Were people allowed to leave during a class to go to the bathroom? I hadn't seen anyone do anything other than follow Lizzy's directions to a T the whole time I'd been in there.
Then there was the possibility standing up might make it worse. This wasn't sitting in a chair by a long shot. This involved heaving my body off the floor. That alone could be the clincher, or in this case, the un-clencher. After a few twists and a lot of going over "what if" scenarios in my head, I finally decided on just waiting it out. Staying put had to be better. Plus, if I got up now everyone would know the new girl had to use the bathroom so bad she couldn't wait. They'd all know what I left for. Heck, they might even be able to hear what happened in the bathroom. That settled it.
So I went through the rest of the class, the twisting portion, flopping, grunting, shaking, sweating, and now clenching, too. At least I was working my muscles, right? After what felt like three hours, we started the cool down, stretching part.
"Hold onto the bottoms of your feet as you move into Happy Baby," Lizzy said.
The name put a smile on my face. Happy Ba-- Oh no. I watched as Rainy laid on her back and pulled her feet forward. Even though I couldn't argue with the yoga gods that it did look a lot like an actual happy baby, at the moment it seemed like an even better name would be The Farter. How was I supposed to hold anything in like that?
I hesitated. My legs just flopped down on the mat as if my body protested the idea, too. Even my limbs knew this was a bad idea. I closed my eyes.
"Did you need help, Sunny?" Lizzy's bare feet padded up next to me. I kept my eyes shut and shook my head. Then I brought my legs up along side my body (well, as far as they would go, which wasn't far). Lizzy's footsteps moved to the other side of the room and I breathed a sigh of re--
A fart echoed through the room.
My legs shot forward like an arrow. Heat wound its way up my neck and face. I didn't want to open my eyes, so I just sat there waiting for the laughter to start, for the smell to waft through the room, for them to kick me out. Instead, all I heard was, "Excuse me" from some lady in the corner.
My pulse slowed instantly. It hadn't been me. I smiled and pulled my legs up again. I wasn't the farter! I almost laughed out loud, but then I realized that would have been rude because no one else laughed or made
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