Page 161 of 10 Rings I Hate About You
Kevin, it seemed, possessed a functional center of gravity in at least one area of his life.
“Saturday, as in tomorrow night?”
Glamma watched the exchange, hands folded in front of her, hands relaxed, attention unwavering. She didn’t interrupt. Didn’t rush things. She just … waited. Like she already knew how this would end.
“Okay, tomorrow,” Grace answered.
Josh grunted.
Cheryl, from the front of the room, made a valiant attempt to get everyone back on track.
And I realized the entire class was watching this all go down. And considering that most of them were related to me, I had a fairly good idea what this week’s family dinner conversation would include.
Ms. Kline lifted her chin subtly at Mr. Geraldi who gave a quick nod in response. His pen moved with deliberate purpose across the sheet of paper. His expression was professional, neutral even. The same look he’d had all night.
My stomach did the thing it had been doing intermittently since the committee walked in. It tightened to the point of pain. Pain so deep I was sort of surprised there was no knife involved.
Then Delaney caught my eye from across the room.
She shook her head once—Not a big deal. We’ve got this—and went back to circulating.
I didn’t entirely believe her, but I kept going.
Finally, after another ten minutes, it was nearing the end of class. Every muscle in my body was tight as I watched the animals and participants settle into Savasana.
The room was finally still. Seventeen individuals on their backs, arms at their sides, the specific collective inhale of a group of people who deserved it.
I ran my threat assessment.
Henderson: Stationary. Acceptable.
Noble: Asleep. Unprecedented but welcome.
Rutherford: Quiet. Fine.
Tank, Hulk, and Butch: Chasing each other around the mats. Also acceptable.
The situation was, remarkably, under control with only about fifteen minutes of class left.
Noble shifted in his sleep. His leg kicked out and knocked into one of the chairs. The chair slammed back against the wall.
The sound lasted one second. Maybe two. And then Rutherford tipped his head back and howled.
Not a bark or a yelp. A full-on beagle howl that shattered eardrums and made you wonder if he was being tortured. He was not. And he was unscathed sitting near Grace.
It echoed in the room.
Theo managed Rutherford. I calmed Noble, who’d started to freak out. Grace had a handle on Hendersen, who had startled.
For the next five minutes, we worked on helping the participants get settled again, and we finally resumed Savasana.
Even the committee members were still. Ms. Kline had her eyes closed. Mr. Geraldi was at least not writing.
For the next five minutes, the room was calm. I should have circulated, but instead I stood there and enjoyed it. After another five minutes, Cheryl began bringing everyone back.
As my parents stood, they chatted with Doug and Sienna. I also noticed that Grace was smiling at Kevin as they chatted.
Glamma moved to my side, staring at everyone.
