Page 75 of Love Overdose: St. Louis

She straightened. “I saw a bright light.”

“That was the ceiling.”

“It was calling me home.”

The entire class broke into laughter. I tried to maintain my instructor’s expression and failed.

“Breathe through it.”

“My lungs have left the building.”

“They’re still in there.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re talking.”

She stopped long enough to consider that. “Sho you right.”

The music shifted. We moved into a slower recovery sequence, rolling our hips and stepping from side to side.

Journey revived instantly.

“Oh, I can do this.”

“I thought your lungs left.”

“They came back when the suffering stopped.”

Naomi shook her head and continued moving. I watched my friends in the mirror and felt warmth cocoon me. Our lunch dates mattered but seeing them inside the world I had built made me happy. Naomi concentrated on each move, determined to master it. Journey brought half the class into her personal battle with exercise and somehow made everyone work harder because they were too busy laughing to watch the clock.

The second half of class moved faster. I forgot to look toward the lobby. The music, the bodies moving together, and the familiar burn in my muscles took over. I called instructions, encouraged modifications, and moved from the platform to dance between the rows.

Journey attempted every step, even when her version bore no relationship to mine. When we reached the final fifteen minutes, sweat had darkened the front of her T-shirt.

“I need medical attention,” she announced.

“You’re still talking,” Naomi said.

“That doesn’t mean I’m well.”

“You’re doing good,” I told her.

“I don’t trust you anymore.”

The studio door opened behind the class and my eyes lifted to the mirror.

Elijah stepped inside.

He wore black athletic pants, a fitted gray shirt, and black sneakers. His low fade was fresh, and the diamond studs in his ears sparkled off the overhead lights. He paused near the back wall, his attention finding me immediately. My heart stumbled.

A slow smile moved across his face. I nearly missed my own count. Journey followed my gaze in the mirror and turned around.

“Oh, thank God. A doctor.”

“Face forward,” I called.

Elijah laughed. Naomi looked over her shoulder and waved. He returned the gesture before moving farther inside.