A woman on the other side of Rose in a matching blue sports bra and leggings set leaned into their conversation. “They’re actually installations from the guest artists, but people are welcome to add to them. It’s an interactive artistic endeavor.”
Edie raised her eyebrows and exchanged looks with Rose.
“… and, if you think about it, we all already have our own microchips, so if the government …” Dreadlocks continued.
The woman next to Edie and Rose kept speaking in a rapid-fire hush. “I heard there are some immersive installations as well, but you have to find them in different places on the island. Like, bathrooms with musical parts, stuff like that, but they’re really hard to find, and I heard you have to follow a drone disguised as a bird to get to some of them.”
Edie wondered how she and Rose found themselves in this particular crowd this morning. She made a mental note to do a quick check on the instructors for the other classes they wanted to attend to avoid this hippie-dippie nonsense.
“You know,” Edie said, “I heard there’s an open-air chill out temple you can go to and when you’re inside, it blocks out all other noise, and it sprays a mist of caffeine and reparative skin serum.”
Rose’s lips thinned as she suppressed a smile. The woman on the other side of her nodded her head.
“… all right, sorry to get on my high horse, but I just love this stuff. Anyhow, let’s start in down dog today!” Dreadlocks finally announced.
The crowd shifted from their seats to an all-fours position.
“Thanks for the tip!” the woman on the other side of Rose said.
Rose and Edie giggled and placed their feet on their now-scorching yoga mats and sent their hips to the sky for downward facing dog, a position that reminded Edie so much of how her parents’ ancient Scottie stretched out his back and forepaws every morning. As Edie looked between her arms, she saw their phones each light up where they lay on Rose’s kimono. Rose shifted her weight and grabbed her phone as the instructor told them to breathe in deeply and pedal out their dogs.
“Should I know who Cassidy or Apricot is?” Rose asked.
“What?” Edie responded. The music playing now was way too upbeat and loud for yoga and Edie couldn’t hear a thing. Rose held the phone below her friend’s chest and Edie read the message.
“That’s the white girl and her friend who was going troppo yesterday,” Edie said. Three rows of people in front of them moved from down dog into plank and they followed suit. Rose threw the phone back on the kimono.
“Who?”
“Cassidy Burns and her friend. The pranksters, remember?”
“How’d they get my number? And who is Ryan LeHane?”
From plank, they lowered to their chests and rose into upward facing dog. Edie pressed her toes into the mat and rolled her shoulders back. With her face and chest to the sun, Edie patiently reminded Rose that Ryan was the white boy who fell off the waterfall.
“Have we been on a different island this whole time or something? I don’t remember that at all,” Rose said as the group transitioned into a lunge that warped the yoga mat on the uneven sand and into a warrior position that made Rose face away from Edie.
Edie stared at the back of Rose’s afro, dumbfounded. This wasn’t just Rose’s normal indifference to things that didn’t interest her. Even if she wouldn’t give a second thought to LeHane’s antics or this group’s pranks, she would have at least recalled that the whole situation bothered Edie. She wanted to say something, but didn’t know what, and Rose let the conversation drop as they went through the vinyasa.
At the end of the class, after they got their group shots with the instructor and their selfies, Edie and Rose headed back to their tent with towels around their necks and Stanley cups dangling from their fingers. Edie reread the message Cassidy sent, and James’ response.
James
Ryan LeHane’s YouTube is gone. There’s no reason he’d delete that. I think someone else must be behind it
Cassidy
I’m freaking out right now. All of Daisy’s profiles have been deleted. I can’t even find her number in my phone. I think we need to call the police or something but Apricot seriously doesn’t remember her
“Who are these people and why should I care?” Rose shouted at her screen, then tapped out a quick message.
Rose
I don’t know who you are. Please delete my number. Sorry about your friend
“I feel like going for a swim. What about you?” Rose asked, tucking her phone into the side pocket on her workout unitard.
A weight settled on Edie’s shoulders and the muscles of her neck tightened.What if they’re not lying to us?
