Sorry for the delay in update. Had a busy week and just now got a chance to finish up this chapter and upload it. It's a bit of a shorter one but the next one will be much longer. Thanks so much for being patient with the updates! I hope to add Chapter 5 this weekend as well as the next chapter for Accidentally Best Friends. Thanks so much for reading!
When Melanie said hot yoga she wasn't kidding about the heat. Apparently this retreat is all about intensity because this is the hottest hot yoga class I have ever been to. The room is sweltering and we are all currently going through a vinyasa flow. As I lift my upper body into cobra pose, I glance up at the clock. Thankfully, only 10 minutes are left. It has to be winding down soon, or at the very least cooling down.
What's surprised me most about this yoga class, isn't the heat though. It's that Lily and Olivia have managed to stay quite the whole time. I thought for sure, the instructor would have to ring the gong to silence them. But they actually seem to take their yoga quite seriously.
Luckily, my wound won't prevent me from partaking in any activities. Or maybe that's unlucky, I haven't decided yet. I figure over breakfast I'll find out what everyone else is doing. I am quite interested in archery as I could use some target practice. I have plenty of tension to release that I think might enhance my aim. I can visualize it now, Blair Waldorf, unexpectedly the Katniss Everdeen of Rooted Retreat. As I go into warrior pose, I am feeling quite reinvigorated now. Of course now that I've gotten my inspiration back, the instructor finally announces we are headed into the cooldown. As the cool breeze wafts into the stuffy room, I exhale my tension.
Afterward, we convene with everyone else in the dining hall. As I'm waiting in line for my fresh green smoothie from the juice bar, I hear Dan's voice behind me.
"No morning hike for you?" He gestured at the yoga mat that I'm still clutching.
"No, thank you. One hike tonight is plenty for me. Did you go?"
Dan nods. Then he eyes my bare arm, exposed by my sleeveless tank. "Probably for the best, wouldn't want you to cut that back open. How are you feeling today?"
"Fine," I say curtly. I glance down at it. Then I soften, seeing the concern in his eyes and no trace of sarcasm as I'd originally assumed. "Thanks for asking."
"So what are you up to today?" Dan asks, conversationally.
"Seeing the shaman." I nod, solemnly.
"You're seeing a shaman?" Dan's eyebrows raise at my words and he couldn't sound more incredulous.
"Of course, aren't you?" I try to stop the smile from spreading across my face. Too late.
"You're lying," Dan says spotting the twitch at the corner of my lips.
"Maybe I should though." I shrug. "They could heal my cut. But then, I wouldn't have an excuse to get out of the solo hikes."
Dan's brow creases, "You don't want to do it?"
I cock my head to one side, "Can you really see me trekking out to the top of a mountain, setting up a tent, sleeping on the ground amongst the wild? You couldn't even believe I could make it in a cabin."
"You won't be sleeping on the top of the mountain. You'll sleep on even ground at an easy elevation."
"Okay, Captain REI. Or should I call you Doctor REI? It doesn't matter. Not doing it." I say resolutely.
Dan seems to almost dispute this but then think better of it. "But you'll go on the night hike?" He prompts me.
"Of course, it's mandatory isn't it?" My eyes flicker with hope. "Or can I get out of it?"
"It's mandatory," Dan confirms my fears.
"Then, I'll see you tonight I guess." I hold up my smoothie in farewell and walk away.
That day I do the painting class with Devries. I'm much delighted to find that wine is provided during the class to help us "let go of our inhibitions and find our inner artist." I find though that even wine can't help me to unleash my inner Monet. In the end, the painting I create is a blur of pastel blobs that's supposed to resemble a field of flowers but instead looks like a crime scene. So perhaps art class won't be my favorite activity on this retreat…
At dinner that evening, I join my cabin mates at a table. We all walked over to the dining hall together and when they all started sitting together, I was sort of roped in. Next to Dan, of course. But I decide it's not so bad. I could use a break from Lily and Olivia's incessant chatter, anyways. I glance over at Dan as I take my seat next to him and think about our conversation earlier. As I'm broaching what I'll say to him, some frat-y looking guy comes up to him.
"Humphrey!" Frat guy claps Dan on the back as they pass him. "Sick rhymes bro."
I furrow my brows in puzzlement as the guy who I've never seen before walks away. To my astonishment, another stranger comes by and enthuses some inside joke before saying, "See ya, Humphrey."
I narrow my eyes at him. "You got popular quickly. What did that guy mean by 'sick rhymes'?" I can't help but wrinkle my nose.
"Oh," Dan shrugs. "Just this creative writing class today. I wrote a poem and some of the guys wrote raps, since that's a form of expression according to the instructor, and helped them out a bit."
"You rapped?" I say incredulously, pausing mid-fork lift. I keep it hovering there, gripped tightly as I await his response.
Dan laughs, "Not exactly. I just wrote some lines for them. Why the interest?"
I shake my head. "It's just weird to imagine you rapping. It doesn't exactly suit you and your persona."
"What persona would that be?"
"Hipster, indie, wounded…"
"Wounded?" Dan says with a wry smile.
"Yeah, you know, like you always seem to be…" I pause, trying to think of the right word or expression. I try again, "It just always seems like you're a bit tortured."
Dan looks away and when he turns back, it seems like he's about to say something but then thinks better of it.
At his continued silence, I shrug, "I mean, that's basically a requirement though to be a 'serious writer', right?"
"I haven't seen that in any job descriptions yet but perhaps you're onto something. I'll try adding that to my list of skills in my resume."
A thought strikes me, "Why do they all keep calling you Humphrey? Is that like Humphrey Bogart or something? Are you a Bogie fan?" I can't decide if this will make me dislike him more or less. On one hand, Casablanca is a classic and that would win some points. On the otherhand, Humphrey Bogart was notorious for being rude and disrepectful for my personal idol, Audrey Hepburn.
He breaks my thoughts with a disbelieving expression, "Seriously?" When I don't reply and look at him in bafflement he says, "That's my last name. Dan Humphrey."
It clicks and the memory of him being called, Dan H., on the first day registers. I feel a little dim now. But how was I supposed to know? It's not like it ever came up.
"Oh," I can't manage to say more. Instead, I take a sip of my fresh pressed lemonade, playing for time.
Dan shakes his head, picks up his fork, and begins eating his dinner. I take the hint and start to eat my dinner too. After that conversation between us ceases. I talk to Sophie who I have yet to get to know while Dan and Kipton talk about their class. I wonder if Kipton wrote a rap too… I struggle to stay focused on Sophie talking about her job as a marketing intern, feeling irked by my conversation with Dan for the remainder of the night.
