came to landing an assistantship on the set ofBreakfast at Fred?s .
If you can?t beat ?em, join ?em!
it?s getting hot in here
Furtively cupping the butt in his palm, Dan took a long last drag on his cigarette and tossed it to
the ground, stubbing it out quickly and exhaling smoke into the breeze. He was stationed on a
bench at the corner of Sixth Avenue and Houston and could see Bree crossing the street. He didn?t
want her to catch him smoking?again.
?Dan!? Bree called out, dodging the battalion of cabs creeping up Sixth Avenue, waving
excitedly. She was wearing short, stretchy black pants that flared a little at her calves and a
turquoise sports bra and was carrying a gray Nalgene water bottle. She trotted through the traffic
and up to the bench.
?Hi! It?s so good to see you.?
?You too,? Dan replied, oh-so-casually closing his book and grinning at her.
?Oh! You?re readingThe Way of the Artist !? she exclaimed. ?Ilove that book.?
?Really Dan had a feeling she might. ?That?s a funny coincidence.?
Sure it is.
?Totally,? giggled Bree. ?FirstSiddhartha ,nowThe Way of the Artist ? You must be the Strand?s
spiritual expert.?
?Oh, definitely,? Dan lied. ?Everyone they hire has a different specialty.?
?Cool.? Bree grabbed his hand and yanked him up off the bench. ?Now come on! We?re going to
be late.?
?Okay,? Dan agreed cheerfully. ?I hate missing the previews.?
?Previews Bree asked. ?We?re not going to the movies. Remember? We?re going to Bikram.?
?Uh, yeah,? Dan replied nervously.Bikram, Bikram, Bikram. Not a movie. Maybe a
restaurant? ?Right. Um, good, I?m, uh, starving.?
Bree laughed. ?Yeah, I?m pretty hungry for some exercise myself. Let?s hurry so we don?t miss
this class?the evening sessions are even more intense than the ones I usually take. And maybe
afterwards I?ll buy you a Jamba Juice.?
Class? Jamba Juice? She might as well have been speaking Swahili. Dan had no idea where they
were going but he followed Bree down the street, making idle chitchat about books he hadn?t
actually read and getting more and more worried. It didn?t seem likely that they were going to a
restaurant. Then Dan looked up and saw it, looming in the distance: a hand-painted sign with a
funny, Indian-style font that was supposed to look like Sanskrit that proudly proclaimed BIKRAM.
It wasn?t a movie. It wasn?t a restaurant. Bikram was a kind ofyoga . Bree was taking him to a
yoga class.
Namaste!
Bree trotted up the stairs eagerly, like a kid on Christmas morning. She turned and glanced over
her shoulder at Dan, who was lagging behind, trying to think of an excuse not to participate. He
decided to feign an injury and was trying to choose a part of his body he could claim to have hurt.
He had a cracked rib maybe, from lifting too many dictionaries. He?d been hit by a car on his way
to work this morning and was pretty sure he was concussed. He had a rare neural disorder that
caused him to black out in small crowded rooms full of sweaty people lying on colorful rubber
mats.
?PS, Dan,? Bree called down to him. ?I?m glad you didn?t bother with a change of clothes. For
the evening sessions,Yogi keeps the heat even higher than usual, so we usually just go naked.?
Now things were getting complicated. First, there was no way he was going to do yoga, and
second, he?d be damned if he was going to do yoganaked . On the other hand, Bree would be there
too; he?d get to see her completely naked the very first time they hung out.
?Um, great!? he enthused, already out of breath from climbing the stairs. Dan had never
exercised in his life, but the sight of Bree?s round, yoga-firm butt a few steps above him was all
the motivation he needed. Forget that he?d never done yoga, never mind that he was sure to be
humiliated, and fuck the seemingly endless flight of stairs: he was going to get into all sorts of
pretzel-like positions with Bree,naked . What was there not to love?
That?s the spirit!
?Come on!? Bree urged giddily.
Dan reached the top of the stairs and followed her into the Tranquility Yoga Studio, a wide-open
space with gleaming wide-plank pine floors. The room was almost all windows and was flooded
with the late afternoon sun?and the rays only intensified the heat. The temperature in the room
must have been near a hundred and twenty degrees, and with the sunlight and all the naked bodies,
it was also humid and very . . .fragrant .
On a platform in the front of the room was an emaciated-looking Indian man with gleaming,
well-oiled skin, dressed only in a loosely cinched white cotton robe, seated with his spindly legs
crossed in front of him. Below his thinly tweezed eyebrows his eyes were closed, and he was
smiling beatifically. In front of him was a fortyish Katie Couric?looking woman doing her
warm-up stretches, her paunchy tummy hanging loosely over her bare, veiny thighs.
A couple of guys warmed up by the windows?one with long, sinewy muscles who arched his
back in a way that just didn?t look natural, and a silver-haired grandfather type touching his toes
effortlessly. He really put Dan to shame . . . in every department.
?Better get undressed.? Bree winked at Dan. ?Master doesn?t like to start class even a minute late.
Anyone who?s not undressed and ready to go is asked to leave.?
Dan had been on the verge of explaining to Bree that he was epileptic and had forgotten to take
his medication, but then she started to yank her turquoise sports bra over her head. Wow. What
could he do?
Strip!
He pulled his dirty T-shirt over his head and let it fall to the ground. Then he unbuckled his belt,
kicked off his shoes, and pulled down his jeans. He was the only guy in the room wearing boxer
shorts, but he stubbornly kept them on.
Like his vampire tan and skinny arms didn?t make him stand out enough.
He balled his socks up and stuffed them into his shoes, then took a deep breath and followed
Bree out onto the floor, where she started to stretch. Her flawless skin was tanall over , which he
knew for sure, since he could seeeverything . Her long blond hair fell over one of her
handful-sized breasts and Dan had to remind himself he couldn?t just go and grab them right now.
She bent over and touched her palms to the floor. He tried to mimic her, but he could barely touch
his knees. It was agonizing.
?Don?t bend,? Bree whispered. ?Stretch, stretch.?
It was impossible to see Bree?s perfect naked body stretching and contorting without the fly of
his boxers expanding to embarrassing proportions. Dan stared as she took her foot in her hand and
extended it straight over her head. He closed his eyes and tried to think of unsexy things, like the
way food always got stuck in his aunt Sophia?s dentures or how the side-walk in front of his
building always smelled like dog piss. The sweat was already pouring down his face and they
hadn?t even done anything yet. He used his forearm to wipe the sweat from his brow.
?Dan, no!? whispered Bree. ?Don?t let master see you do that. The whole point is to sweat it out.
You can?t wipe it off. It goes against his teachings.?
Why couldn?t Bikram have been a nice foreign film? They could be eating popcorn in a dark,
air-conditioned theater making out instead of sweating in this stifling room and following the
orders of some sadist. Suddenly the teacher rose from his seated position on the dais at the front of
the room and let his robe drop to the floor.
?Namaste!? he called, in a joyful, booming voice, bowing slightly.
?Namaste!? the rest of the class replied, bowing back.
Well, most of the class.
?Let?s begin with partner poses.? He motioned for every-one to pair up. ?Prepare for shoulder
stand. Begin with downward-facing dog and tripod pose, if you wish.?
?Ready Bree whispered. She had a thumbnail-sized birthmark the shape of Texas near her belly
button.
Bree bent over and placed her palms on the floor in front of her and then waggled her butt as if in
preparation for take-off. Dan looked around, alarmed, but everyone else was doing the same thing.
Their partners were even gently holding their hips. Dan tentatively touched Bree on the waist and
she brought her right knee to her right elbow and then did the same with her left.
?Hold me steady,? she told him. Dan crouched next to Bree, his hands circling her taut middle as
she brought her long, toned legs straight up and smiled at him from upside-down. ?I think I have it
now.?
?Oh, okay,? Dan said, backing away. But as he went to stand up, he realized that his boxers were
totally gaping in front and his ?friend? was totally exposed . . . and totally excited. Oh, God. He
stayed in a half-crouch, desperately trying to picture Aunt Sophia?s cruddy teeth again.
?Young man.? The scary naked yoga master pointed at Dan.
Me?Dan pointed at himself, still half-crouching. Everyone in the class turned to look at him.
?Yes, you. Come, my son,? the teacher said, beckoning to Dan with his long, skinny fingers.
?Go up there,? Bree whispered from upside-down. ?This is such an honor, I can?t believe it?on
your first time, too.?
Dan walked across the wooden floor trying to look casual, desperately cupping his crotch with
his hands. He reached the foot of the platform and the teacher smiled down at him placidly.
?Come, my son,? the teacher said. ?You?ll work with me today. It?s your first time, right
Dan nodded nervously. His whole body trembled as he stepped onto the platform. The yogi
reached down and placed his worn palms on the floor, giving Dan a terrible close up of his
elephant-skin-wrinkled ass. Everyone in class followed suit, and for a brief second Dan got a
surreal glimpse of Bree?s bare breasts upside down from between her wide-spread legs. His
reverie was interrupted as the teacher grabbed him from behind, pressing his bare stomach into
Dan?s skinny bare back, and gently guided his head down, so that all Dan could see were his own
legs and the skinny legs of the naked guy straddling him. Dan had never been intimate with an
older person before, let alone an old Indian yoga geezer.
But when a guy wants a girl, he has no shame.
n goes native
?I know a great place where we can go after this,? Tawny announced. She licked her thumb and
stuck it into the greasy basket of popcorn shrimp to pick up some fried crumbs.
Nate took a last swig from his limey Corona and nodded. ?Fine by me.?
Crammed into a tiny table by the Oyster Shack?s greasy windows, they ate with their fingers,
sipped beer, and talked? well, Tawny did most of the talking. About how she was learning to surf.
About how her dad used to be a fire chief but had gotten hurt falling off a ladder and retired.
About how she?d been to Disney World four times. About how her hair was naturally curly, but
people always thought she had a perm. About how excited she was to finally graduate next year.
Nate barely listened to what she said: she was sexy as hell, and he enjoyed simply looking at her.
There weren?t many girls like Tawny on the Upper East Side: full, blond, wavy hair spilling over
caramel, freckled shoulders, pink lips that tasted like cherry ChapStick, long-lashed bright blue
eyes, and slender, tanned fingers covered with silver rings.
Blair was always quizzing him on his favorite song, his first memory, what he wanted to do when
he grew up. She said she just wanted to get to know him, but it always felt like a test he was
failing. Tawny seemed happy just to let Nate be who he was.
A hot, arrogant pothead?
When dinner was over, Tawny perched on the handlebars of his bike and shouted directions to
Nate. She threw her head back and her long wavy hair tickled his nose.
?Slow down! No, speed up!? she shrieked.
?Where are you taking me Nate shouted as they bumped over tree roots and rocks.
Tawny glanced over her shoulder at him. ?You?ll see.... Hey, stop! Let me off.?
Nate skidded to a stop and Tawny hopped onto the ground. Her lavender-colored hot pants had
ridden up, giving him a great view of her tan, surf-toned ass cheeks. Shit, was she foxy! ?That was
fun,? she laughed, crashing through some low bushes toward the beach. ?Ditch the bike. It?ll be
safe there.?
Nate leaned his bike against a nearby tree. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the boughs
overhead, but it was cool and very still in the woods.
Following Tawny, Nate thought about how weird it was that he?d only been out of school for a
couple of weeks and yet his entire life had completely changed. He was working construction and
dating a hot Hamptons chick. Well, why not? If Blair could change everything?she was getting
married, for Christ?s sake?why couldn?t he? It was easier to be with Tawny than it was to be with
any other girl he?d ever known; she wasn?t demanding and self-absorbed like Blair, she wasn?t
na?ve and needy like Jenny, she wasn?t unpredictable and inattentive like Serena. She just ... was.
Classic stoner logic.
?Come on,? Tawny urged, backtracking to grab his hand and pull him through the bushes.
She led him into a sun-dappled clearing where two massive trees had fallen on top of one another,
creating natural benches that were obviously popular with the locals, since the forest floor was
littered with old beer bottles and cigarette butts. Three guys hunkered on one of the felled logs,
passing a joint between them. Behind them, through the trees, the blue-black water of the sound
glinted and swelled.
?Hey guys!?Tawny cried.
Three heads swiveled in their direction. With their baggy jeans and plucked eyebrows, gelled hair,
and dorky striped button-downs, these were the kind of guys Nate and his friends would have
scoffed at if they?d ever come across them in the city. They were the kind of guys who got into
fights with bouncers and wore gallons of cheesy drug-store cologne. And they were also,
apparently,Tawny?s friends.
?Nate,these are Greg,Tony,and Vince.?
?What?s up Nate asked, nodding uneasily in their direction.
Tawny clambered over the trunk and took a seat next to Greg, a deeply tanned guy cupping a
joint in his palm and jutting his chest out into the air territorially in a way that reminded Nate of a
