Chapter 7

"Let's go. Now, Ryan!"

The words reminded him of his mother's in front of juvie. But that was as far as the comparison of the two women went. Kirsten's impatience seemed to be hiding a thick layer of amusement.

"Kirsten, the counselor said it might be a good idea to exercise. He didn't mean yogalates at a country club. I'm thinking a nice run would be a better way to go."

"No. This is exactly what he meant and it wasn't a suggestion. Non-strenuous, slow yoga-like exercises can relax your muscles and make you feel much calmer. We're lucky they have a rolling admission here." Ryan trailed behind Kirsten who stood just outside the club doors.

"There are lots of people in there, the kind of people where something always goes wrong for me. I should wait for something to open up at the Y."

The local YMCA had an anger management course, and the first two Thursday meetings had turned out to be surprisingly bearable. The counselor in charge had been a humorless man with some practical advice about anger control. The group consisted of four teenaged boys including Ryan and one girl. Although the counselor had made the group talk about their past and how it related to their anger problems, he hadn't belabored it. Ryan wasn't going to mention the exercise component, but Kirsten had met with the instructor after the first class. Unfortunately the Y's yoga classes were filled up so here he was in front of Kirsten's club.

"What could happen in a yogalates class? A pulled muscle?"

"Please, Kirsten. Let me wait. This doesn't feel right." He hated whining but he hated the idea of yoga in front of Kirsten and a bunch of Newpsies even more.

"Ryan, I know how you might feel out of place here, but it's practical - we can carpool."

Ryan's head fell. He felt guilty about having someone drive him to sessions or borrowing their car. It was too far to bike and bus service from the Cohen house was spotty.

Kirsten said, "You said you'd give counseling a sincere try, that includes this part of it." Kirsten looked at Ryan's expression, which was as a close to a pout as he ever had, and took pity on him. "Try it for two classes and if you still hate it, we'll wait for the Y classes to start up. Fair?"

Ryan nodded glumly. He could only be grateful Seth wouldn't witness his humiliation. After learning about Ryan's exercise requirement, Sandy had dropped his joyful repetition of the word 'yogalates' but Seth had taken it up with louder glee. As for anger management jokes, Ryan could tell Seth hadn't been satisfied with coming up from behind and startling him by shouting, "anger control check!" The third time Seth tried that and his parents weren't around, Ryan punched Seth in the chest. With a grin Ryan had pulled the punch but left enough for Seth to feel there could be more. "Lucky for you, system checked," Ryan had said. Seth had frowned and squinted at Ryan, rubbing his chest in exaggerated pain. Ryan could tell Seth was really concocting new methods of torture for Ryan.

Kirsten held some things out to Ryan and said, "Here. I got you a mat, a stretch band, and some yoga pants. Hurry up and get changed, the class starts in 10 minutes."

Ryan eyes opened wide, and he stepped back from her offer with horror. "Tights? No way. Running shorts - it's a good look."

"No, not tights. I knew you might make that mistake but see they're black." She opened the bag to show him. "Very masculine, more like sweat pants but closer fitting. Ed – he's our instructor - has to be able to correct your form and that's what he wears."

Ryan looked doubtfully at the 'closer fitting pants' but reluctantly took the bag and other items. "I feel a debilitating 'Ed-ache' coming on."

Kirsten tried to reassure him with an easy laugh but added, "We can always exchange them for a pink tutu."

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Ryan, dressed in black tight tights that revealed way too much, stood outside the room with only minutes to spare. He had briefly debated bailing on the class but promises were promises. He was being ridiculous; it would be awkward but over in an hour.

He took a deep breath and entered the room. It was spacious, surrounded by mirrors and ballet barres. Twenty or so 'beautiful people', some with and some without surgical assistance to become a member of the 'beautiful people' were arranging themselves for the class. Ryan looked resentfully at the only other two men in the class. They wore shorts. Next time, if there had to be a next time, he would be wearing shorts.

Kirsten looked up from her Newpsie friends, grinned and waved at him. As she moved to come over to him, he shook his head and sent her a pained expression. Kirsten returned the same frown she gave Seth when he refused her smothering attentions, but nodded her understanding. Seth had taught him some things about dealing with hovering parental units, a completely new experience for Ryan.

Ryan wanted to get through yogalates anonymously. He kept his head down as he scouted for a spot in the back of the class. As he staked his claim with his new mat, a couple of women to either side of him gave him lingering and appraising looks. He tugged on his shirt to stretch it as low as it would go. The mousy brunette on his left surprised him by taking a deep breath as if preparing to say something to him, but he casually turned his full attention to the instructor.

The instructor, Ed, was standing quietly with a beautific smile in the front of the room. He wore tights that matched Ryan's. Ed brought together the palms of his hands in front of his heart, and lightly bowed his head. "Namaste: the God in me greets the God in you. I see a few new faces, but not to worry. We all go at our own pace here. Listen to our bodies and we can't go wrong."

He spoke as the class settled down. "Yoga is an eastern Indian tradition that focuses on strength, flexibility, and spirituality. Pilates focuses on building strength in the deep muscles of the abdominal region, the body's core. Today let's strive for this in meditative mindfulness."

"We start with breathing; exhaling the stresses of our daily life, and inhaling the loving energy around you." His voice was modulated and soothing. "Sitting up tall, place one hand on your stomach over your navel and the other on the side on your rib cage. First inhale into the stomach and feel the hand protruding outward and exhale drawing the abdominals in towards the spine. This is Lateral Thoracic Breathing."

Feeling ridiculous, Ryan mimicked those around him. Ryan realized how drastically his life had changed since coming to Newport – Trey and the guys would never let him live this down. He knew he needed to be different in Newport, but in the back of his mind he had this stupid idea that he couldn't let himself get too soft in case he ever had to go back to Chino. That reasoning reminded him of the assignment given in last night's anger management class: list why he unconsciously might not want to change his ways of dealing with anger. But Ryan wasn't sure if he would share this idea, not sure how it would go over with the counselor.

Ed interrupted his thoughts by continuing class. "Now hold the abdominals in, keeping them strong, and inhale into the ribcage, exhale and release without releasing the abdominals."

Ryan laughed to himself and wondered what Kirsten had been talking about. She had come home exhausted and fussing about how hard the yogalates class had been. People paid money to have someone teach them to breath? Besides a nice run, his idea of a workout was a makeshift weight room Trey had set up under a tarp in the yard. Arturo and the guys would come over and they'd talk shit as they worked out, spotting each other and egging each other on to lift more. He remembered being teased by the guys when he started to show results, hints of ripped abs. Ryan had an idea the comradarie would not be the same here.

After Downward-Facing Dog, Bow Pose, and using the resistance bands, Ryan was exhausted and sweating buckets. He changed his mind about yogalates. Sun Salutation had his arm muscles shaking. His sleeveless shirt and new tights were drenched, and his hair was matted to his forehead. He lost track of time as he concentrated on how this bones were aligned and what muscles groups he was using. His bare arms were coated with a fine layer of sweat, but his breathing was even and unstrained. If this was the zone of mindfulness, he enjoyed it.

Ryan was in the Warrior pose where his legs were extended and his arms reached out in opposite directions. "Excellent form!" the instructor marveled as he adjusted Ryan's hips to be slightly more open. Ryan looked up at himself in the mirror and felt the blood rushing to his face as he felt the room of women staring at him. Maybe he was being paranoid, but he thought he heard a few whispered titters. He fell out of the zone.

Fortunately they were back to mat exercises and warming down and he could be inconspicuous again. He realized how strong these Newpsie women were now, and was suspicious of all those times they asked him to haul boxes and lift things for them at charity events.

"Jai bhagwan, I honor the light within you. Thanks everyone." Ed bowed again. The class reciprocated and everyone began to pack up.

Ryan headed for the door but was intercepted. "Love your form, too. New to the club?" The platinum blonde woman's nails dug into Ryan's arm. "Drinks?"

Ryan smiled, amused by the attention. He cocked his head to the side considering what she had said. "Thanks. Yes. No." He was used to harmlessly flirting women, and was in a good mood after surviving class.

Kirsten and Julie walked up to them.

"Ryan." Julie Cooper arched her eyes at him in distaste.

Ryan nodded.

"Julie," the platinum blonde said.

"Kip Roberts," Julie said, "your husband is really good." Julie tapped her chin.

"You're Summer's mom?" Ryan yelped.

"No. Summer's dad's wife. Who are you?"

"He's my sixteen year old son who has high school Monday!" Kirsten was red in the face.

Julie turned her head to Summer's step-mom as if fascinated by a new idea. Julie said cattily, "Fascinating drama, but I've got to run. Coo-coo-ca-choo." Julie waved as she left to pack her things.

Mrs. Roberts walked away, feigning indifference.

"I told you it was not a good idea for me to come here," Ryan whispered crossly.

"I know you're a bit of a fish out of water here, but I didn't think you'd be jailbait."

"I didn't know you were going to pimp me out with tighty tights. Kirsten, the other guys had normal shorts on!"

"I thought you would be more comfortable. Admit it, you loved yogalates. I saw you and you're a natural. Excellent form," she mimicked the instructor. "Three months working my ass off here, and he's never complimented me. And I have the prettiest Pony Pose!"

Ryan laughed. "When you got it, you got it. What can I say?"

"Say that after showers you'll meet me in the juice bar in 15 minutes?"

"Famous."

They turned for the door and were met by Mrs. Moore, there for the next class. She nervously looked at Ryan and Kirsten but approached them.

"Hi, Dolly. How are you?" Kirsten reached out and held Mrs. Moore's hands in hers. "And how is Chester?"

"I don't know what to think anymore. When I talk to my husband, he is so angry." Mrs. Moore turned toward Ryan. "Chester says you broke his ribs. Chester has enough problems with his dad, why are you picking on him?"

Kirsten wrapped an arm around the woman and maneuvered them a step or two away from Ryan. "That's not what happened, Dolly. But it will be all right."

"We weren't perfect but we were a family. Either my husband ... or that boy is a bully. He must be a bully." Mrs. Moore's voice was shrill and she angrily shrugged Kirsten off.

A few people around them began to notice the raised and emotional voices.

Quietly Kirsten said, "Dolly, your husband is abusive. I'll do everything I can to help you and Chester."

At the word 'abusive' Dolly Moore stood stock still and blinked at Kirsten a few times. Her head shook with growing agitation. "You're wrong!" she shouted and slapped Kirsten across the face. She backed away and pointed to Ryan. "If that boy didn't do it then Ronald did, and that would mean I let him, which is like I hurt Chester. I would never hurt Chester."

The room had frozen in silence after the slap; everyone stared at the two women and Ryan.

Ryan quickly stepped up protectively to Kirsten's side, tense and ready for anything.

"How can you say such things?" Tears streamed down Mrs. Moore's face and she stepped toward Kirsten belligerently.

Ryan put himself between Mrs. Moore and Kirsten. Kirsten grabbed him by the upper arm. She looked stunned and the side of her face was red, but she managed to say to Ryan calmly, "I'm fine." She looked him steadily in the eye. "Go. Meet me by the car."

Ryan hesitated for a long, long moment, uncertain. He looked at Mrs. Moore who had stopped at his movement but still looked angry. Whatever the punishment was for disobeying Kirsten, he could never forgive himself if she got hurt. Ryan turned back to Kirsten and shook his head no.

"Please," she said firmly, shaking his arm. "Stop and think before something happens that we all regret. I can handle her."

Ryan paused again before he nodded to Kirsten slowly and walked even slower toward the door. It was jammed with people who had stopped, anxious to witness more gossip fodder. Ryan kept his head turned to keep an eye on Kirsten the entire time. Other women including Julie Cooper had joined the pair, separating and soothing them. The clucking women around Kirsten made Ryan feel better.

As Ryan passed by the mousey woman he shunned earlier, she turned to her friend and asked, "What happened - why did she bitch slap her? I miss everything."

Her friend replied, "Dolly said that delinquent the Cohens took in is at it again; he beat up her son!"

"That's the kid? He's the one who burned down their house and beat up the Trask boy?" She drew back from Ryan.

Someone behind Ryan said, "No. Dolly said Ronald hit Chester."

And another voice said, "You know, I do remember now Chester's dad was rough with him on the golf course. I almost said something..."

Ryan sighed; it would be a matter of minutes before Mr. Moore knew the silence agreement had been broken. He wondered which other Cohen he could drag into his mess of a life.