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This should be fun.
* * *
When Tuesday evening rolled around, Dylan showed up right on time at my apartment. I was ready to go when he arrived, dressed in my cobalt blue yoga pants and a neon yellow racer back tank top, with a yoga mat in tow. A running jacket with thumb holes was warranted with the chill in the air.
Dylan was wearing a black hoodie covering a white ribbed tank top and a dark gray pair of sweats, as instructed. Did this guy ever look bad?
“You going to tell me where we’re going yet?” he asked as he observed my outfit. “I mean, I really didn’t think girls liked being hit on at the gym.”
“You’re probably right, but lucky for you, we’re not going to the gym. Well, not exactly,” I said.
“Not even a hint?” he prodded.
“Okay, okay. But keep an open mind!” I didn’t want him to back out before we even got there.
“Haven’t I so far?” He had a point there.
“Touché. Follow me,” I said with a smile. I wasn’t going to give it away that easy just yet.
We walked together the few blocks to the studio making small talk along the way. Once we got to where we were going, I stopped outside the front of the studio and turned to face him.
“Well… this is it,” I pointed up to the lighted sign above the front entrance.
Dylan looked up, read where we were, looked back at me and smiled the biggest smile I think I’ve ever seen. Then he actually started laughing. “Yoga?”
If he hadn’t been laughing so light-heartedly in such a way that made me laugh right along with him, I might have had second thoughts about my venue choice tonight.
“Alright, I can try yoga,” he acceded with a genuine smile.
I couldn’t help but notice the happy feeling I got when I heard him laugh. It wasn’t just a fake or forced laugh. It was the real deal, like he was really amused. Score one for me.
I told him that I was going to let him pick who he wanted to talk to himself this time. Consider it the next step in the process, I told him.
As soon as we went in, we noticed that the class was already pretty full with only a few spaces still available on the floor. We grabbed Dylan a yoga mat, then he took a space in the middle of the room and I took one in the back.
During the class, I watched Dylan as he maneuvered himself into the yoga poses, surprisingly well for a guy as muscular and well-built as him. Was there anything this guy wasn’t good at?
I saw him make small talk with a couple of the girls around him here and there. When the class was over, I hung back and gave him some space to carry on a conversation with one of the girls whom he had offered to walk out.
I walked out a minute or two later into the crisp evening air. It looked like clouds were moving in, because it seemed a lot darker than even usual for this time of a November evening. It was only appropriate to go along with my now darkening mood.
If I was honest with myself, I wasn’t sure what bothered me more; that he just left without me, or the fact that I was bothered by it at all. It started to become increasingly harder to deny that maybe I was having more feelings for Dylan than just a friend or a “psychology project.”
Deep down I knew this wasn’t good for anyone involved. I had to find a way to push these feelings out. I thought about what I could do to stop them, and as I walked out and saw Dylan standing there in the light cast from the sign on front of the building, talking to the girl he had walked out with, an idea occurred to me. It would take Clara’s help, and it wasn’t ideal, but it was something.
When Dylan saw me come out the door, he told his new friend how nice it was to meet her and he’d see her around. Then he joined me as I was already several feet down the sidewalk on the way back home.
“That wasn’t bad,” he smiled.
“Any luck?” I asked as we continued to walk toward my apartment.
“I guess we’ll see,” he shrugged. “Hey, have you eaten yet?”
“No, not yet,” I admitted, and I had definitely worked up an appetite during the yoga class.
“Come on. I’ll treat you to a burger,” he said as he looked at me and smiled, angling his body in the direction of a local diner across the street and reaching for my hand.
I thought about it for a second, but finally decided it wasn’t a good idea. The thought of spending more time alone with Dylan sent a thrill through my stomach, and because of that, I knew I had to say no. I couldn’t let myself entertain these unrealistic and conflicting feelings, and I knew the more time I spent with Dylan outside of what our purpose was, the more these feelings were going to get in the way of what I had to do.
