Chapter Nine Falling for Her #2
The instructor signaled for couples to begin. We were losing time.
“Fine,” I said. “You are the base.”
Dani dropped to hands and knees. I settled carefully across her back, knees searching for balance while the audience cheered.
“This is humiliating,” I said.
“You’re doing great.”
“Do not move.”
“I’m breathing.”
“Less.”
“Amy.”
I extended one leg. Then one arm. For one miraculous second, we achieved the pose.
The instructor called, “Hold!”
I focused on a point in the mirror. Dani looked up. Our eyes met in the reflection. She grinned. I should have remained focused.
Instead, I said, “Your position is surprisingly useful.”
Dani’s eyebrows lifted.
“Did you just compliment me?”
“It was biomechanical.”
“Say it again.”
“No.”
“Tell me I’m useful.”
“You are making this unstable.”
“Tell me.”
I leaned closer to her ear.
“Earn it.”
I heard myself say it before I could examine why.
Dani’s arms buckled. We collapsed onto the mat.
I landed on top of her. The audience erupted.
Dani stared up at me. I was braced over her, one knee between her legs, both hands beside her shoulders.
This was not a yoga pose. It was not Level One contact.
It had no category because I had not anticipated falling on top of her in public. Dani’s breath moved against my face.
“Dinner first,” she said.
I knew she expected embarrassment. Retreat. A formal objection. Instead, I lowered my mouth near her ear.
“You’d have to earn dinner too.”
Dani went completely still. The effect was immediate and deeply satisfying. Her confidence disappeared. Color moved across her cheeks. For the first time since meeting her, Daniela Reyes had no response. The discovery made me reckless. I lifted my head.
“Are you all right?”
Dani confirmed, then apparently forgot how supporting arms worked. She shifted. We rolled sideways off the mat. The audience laughed harder. I landed on my back. Dani lay beside me, covering her eyes with one forearm.
“You dropped me,” I said.
“You broke my brain.”
“That is not an injury recognized by Rose.”
From the audience, Rose called, “I’m willing to diagnose it.”
The instructor approached, trying not to laugh.
“Are you both okay?”
“Yes,” I said.
“No,” Dani said at the same time.
She lowered her arm.
“I’m fine.”
We sat. Lola held up her sign.
“YOU DROPPED HER!”
“I know,” Dani called.
“THE SIGN SAID DON’T!”
“I can read!”
Blake appeared at the edge of the mat.
“That was incredible.”
“We fell,” I said.
“Your engagement score just tripled.”
“That does not compensate for losing stability points.”
“You are currently first overall.”
I stared.
“First?”
“People loved it.”
“This system rewards failure.”
Dani sat beside me, still pink.
“Failure is part of growth.”
She avoided my eyes. I smiled. This was new.
We did not win the yoga event. A couple named Marisol and Jen completed every pose with the calm synchronization of people who had apparently trained in a mountain monastery.
We placed third in technical scoring. Marisol and Jen found us afterward.
Marisol offered me a packet of electrolyte powder; Jen returned the resistance band I had abandoned beneath a mat.
“You two are chaos,” Marisol said warmly.
“You say that as the person who held crow pose while answering Blake’s questions,” I replied.
Jen smiled. “We practice when no one is filming. That helps.”
I accepted the powder. “Your technical score was deserved.”
“So was your audience score,” Marisol said. “People saw you recover together.”
It was the first time another competitor had treated us as something other than a spectacle.
Audience engagement moved us to second overall for the week.
Amy-from-one-month-ago would have considered this scoring method corrupt.
Current Amy still considered it corrupt.
She also accepted the silver-colored ribbon Blake handed us.
“For documentation,” I told Dani.
“Of course.”
We stood near the back wall while the studio emptied. Gloria and Lola approached. Gloria resembled Dani around the eyes, though her expression carried more authority and less mischief. Lola reached us first. She wore glittery trainers and carried the dinosaur sign under one arm.
“You’re Amy.”
“Yes.”
“I’m Lola.”
“I know.”
She looked pleased. “Aunt Dani talks about me.”
Dani coughed.
“Occasionally,” I said.
“Do you like dinosaurs?”
“Yes.”
I answered automatically, and truthfully. Lola took my hand.
“Which one?”
“Ankylosaurus.”
Her eyes widened.
“Good answer.”
Gloria smiled and extended her hand.
“Gloria Reyes.”
“Amy Price. It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too. I’ve heard a lot.”
I turned to Dani.
“How much?”
“Mostly slander,” Dani said.
“Mostly spreadsheets,” Gloria corrected.
Lola was still holding my hand.
“You should come to dinner.”
Dani closed her eyes.
“We don’t have to decide now,” Gloria said.
“Sunday,” Lola added. “We’re having enchiladas.”
“I like enchiladas.”
“Then you have to come.”
“That is not how invitations work,” Dani said.
“It worked.”
Gloria rested a hand on Lola’s shoulder.
“No pressure. But you’re welcome.”
The invitation felt more dangerous than partner yoga. Family dinner belonged to real relationships. People asked questions. Children remembered answers. Dani waited without pushing.
“No pressure,” she repeated.
Her tone was careful. I could say no. The arrangement did not require family appearances. But Lola was looking at me as if my attendance had already become part of the week. And Dani looked nervous in the way she did when something mattered more than she wanted to admit.
“Sunday works,” I said.
Dani’s head turned.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Lola cheered. Gloria smiled. Dani stared at me with gratitude, alarm, and something warmer fighting for space. Lola released my hand and gave me the dinosaur sign.
“You can keep it.”
“I believe it is addressed to Dani.”
“She failed.”
Dani made an offended sound. I accepted the sign.
“Thank you.”
After Gloria and Lola left, Dani remained unusually quiet.
“You could have declined.”
“Yes. You don’t have to perform with them. We can tell Gloria the challenge is complicated.”
“Can we?”
If Gloria knew, the disclosure circle widened. If she did not, we would lie through dinner.
“We should discuss it before Sunday.”
“Scheduled deception review?”
“Yes.”
She smiled faintly. Then her gaze moved to the dinosaur sign in my hands.
“You really like ankylosaurus?”
“They are structurally efficient.”
Dani laughed. The sound filled the emptying studio.
I had not kissed her again. We had not violated the amendment.
Nothing had changed. And yet, as she walked beside me toward the lobby, I understood something had shifted.
I had made her lose her balance. She had invited me into her family.
Neither event was part of the agreement.
Both felt more real than anything we had rehearsed.