My yoga classes have been extremely inconsistent. Their attendance anyway. They're set up so that you can drop in during any of the sessions that week for your level. I have been faithful to the 10:30 am Saturday slots all four weeks. But no one else in the class has, except Sam. Several old women have come and gone, and returned. A 30ish couple came back today for the first time since week 1. An old guy who really knows his yoga is in there now. It's confusing.
But Sam has been to each session I've been to. Usually with her friend Hannah. Today we partnered up to lengthen the sidebodies while in the downward facing dog position by pushing up the arms to the armpits. Or something. Afterwards Sam commented on how Hannah ditched her this week since she's going on a week-long trip to New York, and how she wanted to go back to bed when she got home but had to get more minutes for her phone first. Just chit-chat. I agreed, explaining that I tried to do the Tuesday night classes, but, unfortunately, Saturday mornings worked better. She then asked how old I was. I told her 22 and asked her the same, and she said, "Almost 15."
I'd always known she was younger, and guessed around 16. Her friend Hannah looks young and awkward with a mouth full of braces. Sam looks a little older, but her partially green hair and the rides she gets with her mom give her age away. I found it amusing that: 1) she asked my age and 2) her reply wasn't "14" but instead "almost 15", just as I would have done at that age. I'm sure she knew I was older, but probably not by almost 8 years. I'm no prize, especially with this botched haircut, but it makes me wonder. And no, I wouldn't dare.
After class I got on my bike, seeing Sam get in a truck with her mom and wanting to get out of there quickly I rode up an alley. To my dismay they were behind me and an overgrown bush forced me off the sidewalk and to the road and made me wobble a bit, in front of Sam and her mom. As they drove by we waved at each other and I cursed.