Page 5 of Someone Like Me
I quickly tuck out of the posture and rush to Drake. “My back!” he wheezes, his eyes screwed shut.
I stand with my feet by his hands, bend over him, and brace him behind his shoulder blades. “Tuck your tail.”
He tilts his pelvis and hisses.
“Put your weight into your heels and lower your hips.”
“Christ!”
I anchor my own weight so I don’t collapse on top of him. I know if I did, my face would land in his crotch, and my crotch would probably end up on his mouth. Great. For the half-second it takes to lower him to the ground, I offer my soul to the devil to avoid this nightmare.
By some miracle or dark magic, I keep my balance and then shift to his side. “Your lower back’s in spasm. Draw your knees to your chest.”
Drake groans, and I sweep my eyes over the rest of my students. Some have come out of the posture and are watching us with concern. Some are still in wheel, plainly ignoring the sounds of a man in pain.
Honestly, I don’t know which is worse. By the look on Drake’s beet red face, he’s mortified.
“If you’re still in wheel, lower down carefully, rest your back onto the earth, and draw your knees up to your chest,” I instruct.
Drake’s breath is still jagged, letting me know that the muscles in his back are still protesting. I lower to my knees and lean down closer to him.
“Breathe,” I remind him, my voice a whisper. “Then open your legs and clasp the arches of your feet in happy baby.”
He opens his eyes and shoots me a glare. “I’m not doing that.” He looks angry, but I know he’s probably more embarrassed than anything else.
I raise my voice and address the class. “Let your knees fall open to your underarms and reach for your feet,” I tell them. “Grab inside or outside. It doesn’t matter, but try to let your knees sink down so you open up your lower back.”
As the rest of the class follows my instructions, Drake narrows his eyes at me. I can see he’s chafing under his humiliation, but there’s a spark of something else in his look.
“You owe me a date now.”
My heart sinks. As much as I don’t want to go out with him, I can’t turn him down now. Not after he’s whimpered in pain in front of a class full of women.
I grasp at the only straw I have. “Not tonight. You need an epsom salt bath and heating pad.”
He raises a wolfish brow. “Tomorrow night.”
I chew the corner of my lip. “I teach the next three nights,” I tell him, and I’m so glad it’s the truth.
A smile breaks over his face. “Perfect. Friday night then.”
Defeat washes over me. I swallow and nod. “Friday night.”
CHAPTER THREE
DREW
Annie hugs me like she hasn’t seen me in eight years. It’s only been about eight weeks, but I grab onto her like they’ll take her away from me if I don’t.
My little sister’s all grown up now. She was eleven when I went away. She’ll be twenty in December. That’s one of the hardest things to get over about being on the inside. In prison, nothing changes. You can almost convince yourself time is standing still. And even though Annie and Grandma Quincy have visited me every other month since I’ve been in, it’s still hard to believe Annie’s in college now and not middle school.
“Oh my God,” she mumbles into my chest. “I thought this day would never come.”
I squeeze her tighter because talking’s not a option right now. She’s happy to see me. I’m happy to see her. And this is probably as good as it’s going to get.
As if sensing my struggle, Annie pulls her face away from my chest and looks up at me. “How you doing? You okay?”
I swallow and shrug. The guard who escorted me out of Reception is still standing behind me. The only thing separating us from the outside world is the gatehouse. I cast my eyes around what I can see of the yard. Wide open field and sky for miles.
