Fuck It (Yama Yama)

“Kasha!” Monica scolds.

“I’m serious!” She looks at me. “How am I supposed to live with that information? They watch our buttholes in doggy! It winks, Lydia! How am I not supposed to think about my ass flirting while I’m getting pounded?”

Sicily chokes on her champagne, dribbling it down the front of her shirt.

“I’ll never be able to do doggy again,” Kasha swears.

“Psh,” Henley scoffs. “Davis can make it blow kisses and talk like a puppet for all I care. I’m not giving up that position.”

Sicily grins at Kasha. “It probably looks like this.” She purses her lips at her, opening and closing them like a fish.

Henley instantly adds her contribution, giving Sicily’s demonstration a comically high voice. “Ooh, yes, mwah mwah.”

Pretending it was blowing kisses was a nice touch.

Monica covers her face. “I can’t take the three of you anywhere.”

“Four now,” Kasha points out, fist bumping Sicily. Sicily’s grin stretches from ear to ear. She fits in more with us every day.

When we arrive at the spa, Henley blurts out, “What’s the name of this place?” She cranes her head to see the sign we’ve just passed.

“Nude Erections,” Monica says absently, looking at something that Brenda’s trying to show her on her phone.

“What?” I exclaim, sure I must’ve heard her wrong.

Monica looks up and points to the words spelled out on the awning of the lush building. New Directions Health Spa.

Oh. New Directions.

Henley has a hand pressed to her mouth that’s failing to hold back her laugh. “That’s what I thought it said.”

Monica blinks in confusion, but there’s no time to explain as the driver pulls up to the doors. As soon as we step inside, Monica announces, “It’s all inclusive, so enjoy yourselves. I signed us all up for the inspirational evening yoga class at eight. We’ll see you there.” She and Brenda waste no time ditching us to go off on their own.

Despite the constant thought of Simon trying to dig its way in, I manage to relax and enjoy myself. The joy of denial. We all get manicures, and I’m in the middle of an amazing pedicure when Henley ruins my just don’t think about him plan.

“Have you heard back from Simon?”

Kasha and Sicily sit on my other side and both of them turn their attention to me.

“No. He shut off his phone.”

“I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, it’s fine. We were just having sex. It’s no big deal.”

Kasha stares at me. “Is this the part where we’re supposed to act like he didn’t announce to everyone at breakfast that you two are together?” Kasha is a great friend but she never hesitates to call anyone out on their bullshit.

“I let things get out of hand. It was a momentary lapse in judgement.”

“You broke up?” Henley asks.

“We weren’t together to break up. We had some fun and–”

“You both caught feelings and you’re scared you’ll get hurt again so you’re bailing,” Kasha finishes, not unkindly.

After a long moment of silence, I sigh. “I don’t want to talk about it. Someone change the subject.”

Henley thrusts her phone toward me, giggling. “How’s this? I texted Davis to see if the whole doggy style thing is true.”

The phone gets passed between us so we can all see the conversation.

Henley: Do you look at my butthole during doggy style?

* * *

Davis: What the hell kind of spa are you at?

* * *

Henley: Just tell me.

* * *

Davis: Yes.

* * *

Henley: Well stop.

* * *

Davis: What do you want me to do? Put a piece of tape over it?

“It’s really not fair,” Henley says, taking her phone back from Kasha. “We should insist they show us theirs.”

“Absolutely,” Kasha agrees. “Let’s do it.” She looks over at me and raises her eyebrows. “See, if you make up with Simon—”.

“I’m happy to be left out of the butthole show,” I snort.

That much is true. Now if I can convince myself I’m happy to be left out of Simon’s heart, I’ll be all set.

CHAPTER 17

SICILY

“Are you ready for this?” Henley asks, as we all head to the yoga class. Excuse me—Inspirational Yoga Gathering.

“What is inspirational yoga?” Lydia asks. Glad someone did.

“Best I could tell from the brochure, we stretch while a guy spouts platitudes and tells us to breathe through our feet,” Kasha says. “It’s only for thirty minutes.” No one is going to complain about Monica insisting we all accompany her to the gathering. She was kind enough to arrange and pay for all this. It’s the least we can do.

The gathering is being held outdoors on a grassy area. About thirty people are in attendance, mostly women, but there are a couple of men. They’re arranged into three rows, standing alongside yoga mats. Monica and Brenda wave at us from the back row where they’ve saved the four mats alongside theirs.

We only have a second to chat with them before a man walks out in front of the group and claps his hands twice. He’s tall and thin with long limbs. His hair is shaved on the sides and pulled into one braid along the top.